Warm golden sunlight rippled across the blue Aegean Sea. A light breeze carried the scent of honeysuckle and bougainvillea as well as the slight tang of brine. The early morning showed the promise of a perfect summer's day. The perfect day to wed, to celebrate love. 'The perfect place too.' He thought.
He sighed and took a deep breath, inhaling the heady fragrance on the morning air. He remembered the scene before him when he had first viewed it. Then he had been a captive, a slave. But that was thousands of years ago. At least two thousand years BK...Before Kronos. Before the whole world went mad. Yet here it was again on the brink of madness. His one consolation in regard to that fact was that this time he was not the cause. 'Enough now,' he berated himself, 'now is not the time for morbid thoughts. Not when I am about to marry for the sixty eighth time.'
His bride to be slept in the next room. Or perhaps, like him, she was contemplating the dawn - eagerly anticipating the ceremony that would bind them in law as they were already bound in love. Themis. His beloved. A woman who was both vibrant and gentle. Swift to be aroused and yet the perfect peacemaker. How could he not love her?
They had met here in Thessalonica at the Medical mission. She, a keen young doctor not long qualified, full of the zeal of youth. Her enthusiasm and passion had at first amused him and then drawn him in. He had already been working at the mission for three years when Themis arrived. He was introduced to her as the resident cynic. The title had fit him well, he acknowledged. The resident cynic he had remained, until he finally succumbed to her spell binding personality.
He wasn't sure exactly when he had fallen in love with her, all he knew was that his love for her was all encompassing - leaving little room for any other thoughts or feelings. After over a hundred years of trying to care for no-one he suddenly found he had an overwhelming desire to care for everyone, especially his wonderful Themis.
He was more than a little startled by the strength and depth of feeling for her. Nonetheless he was glad of it. He hadn't felt so alive or strongly involved since his time with the Shelleys and Byron. He'd been practising medicine then too, but even though those had been heady days they couldn't compare with the present.
Then he had indulged in decadent, almost orgiastic, behaviour in order to feel connected to something, anything. He recognised that his actions had been prompted by a desperate desire to belong. Now he had no need of such excesses. This was true connection.
He had considered his feelings carefully before asking Themis to marry him. He knew she was likely to be a woman he would want to be open and honest with. Dare he tell her of his immortality? What if she reacted badly? Could he bear to lose her?
He felt like a giddy adolescent when he was around her. He needed her and he could only hope her need for him was as strong. Love was supposed to conquer all wasn't it? He reasoned it out so many times in his mind, deciding first one way and then the other. The fact was that he felt more and more uncomfortable with her not knowing, he felt unable to lie to her. It had taken him many months before he had resolved to confess all to her and leave it to Cupid and the fates to bear his hopes aloft or dash them to the ground.
Even having made this resolve he had found that he wanted to put off the moment as long as possible. The thought of life without her making him prevaricate. In the end it had been jealousy which had spurred him into action.
They had been graced by a month long visit from the charity's administrator. A tall man, well fed and well muscled, with bronzed skin and mid-brown hair, by the name of Andrew Macintosh. In the course of checking that all was in order he spent a great deal of time accompanying Themis on house visits to those who were unable to attend the clinic at the mission for treatment.
He had begun monopolising her time in the evenings as well, much to Methos' disgust. Though he told himself that it was irrational behaviour he began to try to engineer it so that he was with the two of them as much as possible. 'As if she needed a chaperone' he thought..and it wasn't even as though he had made his intentions or feelings clear to her yet. 'She's a grown woman you're losing it old man.' he chided himself. He had, even then, tried telling himself that he wasn't jealous. Finally however, he was unable to deny it any longer.
On a rare day off Themis had decided to walk over the hill path short cut to her parents' house at Epanomi. Various of her male colleagues had warned her not to walk the hills alone. There had been reports of bandit activity in the area recently and they were concerned for her safety. Laughing, she had rejected all offers of an escort, just as she had rejected the somewhat longer coastal route .
"Gentlemen, I am touched by your concern." She had said. "However, this is my home, I shall be perfectly safe and I shall be back by sunset. Please donÕt worry about me."
So saying she had picked up her bag and departed still smiling.
Methos had been absent from the clinic, attending a difficult childbirth. He had been gone for more than two days but he had managed to save both mother and child, though the boy was sickly and the chances of him surviving into adulthood were less than optimistic. Depressed and worn out he had returned to find the place in turmoil.
Themis had not yet returned and anxiety for her safety had grown to epic proportions. The sun had been set nearly three hours and the moon was riding high in the sky. Macintosh was busy organising teams into search parties as Methos entered the staff quarters. Hearing of Themis' disappearance he had immediately volunteered to join one of the teams. Barely glancing at him, Macintosh had dismissed Methos' offer of help.
"Absolutely not, we need local knowledge here, besides you'd only slow us down in your state."
In truth Methos was exhausted from his long vigil over the past 50 hours but the knowledge that Themis was missing drove all fatigue from him.
"Well for your information Mr Macintosh," he said, barely holding his rage in check, "I have more local knowledge than you do, as well as personal reasons for wanting to find Miss Krcanias..... Themis. You can leave me off your list if you like but it won't stop me from searching for her."
Macintosh had looked at him then, ready to respond in an equally angry manner. What he saw on Methos' face stopped him. It was obvious, even to a casual observer, that this man was in earnest. The depth of his feeling for the missing woman were as clearly written on his visage as they ever could have been on paper. Nodding Macintosh moved closer and laid a hand on Methos' shoulder.
"Ok Mike," he said , "if you join David's team." He indicated the elder of the staff doctors.
Breathing a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to make a fight of it Methos agreed.
"Oh, and Dr Le Grand..."
Methos turned and looked at Macintosh, impatient to be gone.
"Yes?" He managed.
"I hope that you and Dr Krcanias will be very happy."
So saying, Macintosh exited from the room to leave a speechless Methos staring after him. The man he considered his only rival for Themis' affections had just given him his blessing.
He leant over her and gently shook her awake.
"Themis?" He said.
"Michel? Is that you?" Her voice was a little subdued, by more than sleep.
"It's me." He confirmed. "We were all worried about you. Are you hurt?"
She tried to raise herself from her crouched position and groaned.
"I am fine but I have wrenched my ankle, I think it has swollen but it is not broken."
Methos bent to examine the injury, gently feeling around the ankle and checking it against the uninjured limb.
"You are right it is sprained. I don't think it is any worse than that. Still we shall have to carry you out and back down to the clinic. Will you let me lift you?"
A deep sigh was all he heard until she spoke.
"I would rather you carried me than any one else."
That made his heart beat faster. The fact that she might return his feelings causing him to catch his own breath a while. Sternly reminding himself that the matter in hand was to get Themis back to the warmth and safety of the clinic he merely replied, "And I would rather bear you to the ends of the earth than ever let you come to harm."
So saying he lifted her in his arms and made his way back to the gathered teams of disconsolate men on the hill outside.
He had allowed no one to help him carry her home. On arrival at the clinic it had been he who had re checked and then treated her injury. And it had been he who had secured her promise to accompany him on a picnic the following day. Neither of them had said any more on the subject of their feelings for each other, but the others had all observed the breathless way each of the 'young' people had looked at each other.
After Themis had been safely seen to her bed David had sought out Methos, a brandy glass in his hand. Handing it to the oldest immortal he had said, "It's about time."
Shaking his head a little and accepting the offered drink Methos had replied, "And is everyone here aware of what I am thinking before I am?"
"In this case I'd say yes," David replied, "Some of us have been in agony for weeks wondering when you'd realise that Themis is madly in love with you. We all knew you were in love with her the minute you laid eyes on her."
Smiling ruefully Methos drank his brandy. "I really never thought I'd be the sole entertainment for a group of lonely doctors. Don't you all have anything else to keep you occupied?"
"Sure Mike, we bet on the cockroaches, see which one will live longest. We daydream about a time when the world will be a place of supreme peace and order, but the most entertainment we've had of late has been betting on how long it would take before you asked Themis on a date."
Laughing, Methos said, "Well I am certainly glad I rate higher than the cockroaches. So who stands to win the bet and what did you use for a stake..since none of us has been paid for a while I guess you didn't use money?"
"Ahhhhhhhhhh well, Monopoly was always a favourite game of mine, Eric Derwent seems likely to win the bet and he wins £500,000 - Mayfair, four hotels and the Old Kent Road."
Methos was choking. "My god, you sure know how to bet big money around here."
"Yes sir, we know how to live life to the full." David said, chuckling. "Now I wonder what odds I can get on the date of the wedding."
"Oh no David, please..I really don't think.."
Seeing Methos pale face David relented. "Relax man, no one would dream of such a thing, but you are going to ask her aren't you? If ever a man had it bad you do."
"I don't know. I want to, but it isn't easy..." He hung his head.
"Rubbish man, All you have to do is ask..she can't say yes until you do."
"And she can't say no either."
"If you think she'll say no you need your eyes testing," David said in his broad Yorkshire accent, as he made to leave. "Trust me lad, you'll never find a sweeter girl and she loves you with all her heart or I am a Dutchman."
If Themis thought it odd of 'Dr le Grand' to choose to picnic outside the cave where she had taken shelter the day before she kept her thoughts to herself. Her ankle had been strapped up and he had hired a donkey to carry her up the hill.
The day was warm but not uncomfortably hot and a light breeze blew through the gorse.
"Comfortable?" Methos asked Themis, who leant against him as they sat with the sea below them and the rocky hills at their backs.
"Supremely." She said, twisting her face round to look up at him. her eyes alight with the pleasure of the moment. "How could it be otherwise when I am here with you?"
She reached a hand to his cheek and caressed it. As she drew her hand away it was grasped lightly, but firmly, as Methos drew it to his lips. The kiss he laid there was soft and warm, making her tingle. She looked at him, his eyes, his pale skin and dark hair gave him an exotic aura. There was something else too. An air of fragility was hinted at and yet she sensed that this man had a great many hidden strengths - she could never call him weak. But he was so shy and withdrawn at times that it was hard to know what he was thinking.
She had watched him during her time at the mission. His eyes were the key to his innermost being, his feelings, his soul even, she had decided. She had seen a great deal of pain and sorrow reflected in those eyes over the time she had known Dr Michel le Grand. Now, however, the look he gave her was so warm and tender it caused a tremor to run through her. It was love, pure and simple, that she saw in his eyes. A feeling she hoped showed as clearly in her own gaze. This beautiful, wonderful man had to know how much she loved him.
"Michel......" She began.
"Hush love." He placed his finger against her lips. Now or never was the time to make his declaration of love and to tell her of his long, long life. If he didn't do it now he never would and he knew now, more than ever, that he wanted this woman to take him for who and what he was or not at all. He returned her earlier caress, knowing it might be the last time he was permitted such intimacy. As he withdrew his hand he looked her squarely in the eyes.
"My name is not Michel le Grand, that is just a name I have used since about twenty years ago. My name is Methos." He paused alonost unsure of what he should say next.
"Methos- myth." She breathed, and the soft cadence of her voice as she said his name thrilled him.
"Yes." He agreed. "My name means myth...and for many years I have tried to forget that Methos, my real self, ever existed. I have lived as Dr Michel le Grand for twenty years now. Even to myself I try to pretend that Methos is just a myth.
"But twenty years? You cannot mean to tell me that you are over forty years old? It is not possible. Your face, your hair, your body all say you are between twenty and thirty. This cannot be right."
"If only I were twenty or thirty or even forty. If only I had met you so many years ago."
The pain in his voice clutched at her heart, turning to face him she clasped his face in both her hands and kised him boldly full on the mouth.
"Tell me my love, and take your time. I will listen and I will not interupt you again.
And so he told her, as much of his origins as he could recall. He told it baldly, matter of fact, so he thought, but the nuances of his voice, which were now so familiar to Themis, carried the echoes of both the pain and the joy he had encountered during his life. She heard and understood, pressing hes hand to offer strength and encouragement when he faltered.
He told her of his crimes and misdemeanors, and of his loves. He told her briefly of his past marriages. And at long last he told her of Kronos, Caspian, Silas, and Methos - The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse - of Death on Horseback - of what he had been for so long - of what he feared he would become again whenever fear or anger coursed through his soul. Finally he cut his wrist open to the bone, ignoring her gasp, and explained to her about the imortal healing process, quickenings, of taking his first head and the game,.
She sat silently, as she had promised. Now that he had finished he waited for her to speak, to scream denial, to push him away. The continued silence was almost more than he could bear. A soft muffled sound of weeping finally reached his ears. He sighed. He should have known. She couldn't accept him, his crimes were too many, the actions so monstrous that nothing could wash away the stain on his soul. And then the miracle had happened. She had kissed his still healing wrist and whispered. "Methos, my love, you tell me of your past, now tell me of your future."
The world spun faster and his breath caught, but he regained his composure long enough to move and kneel before her.
"My future is in your hands." He said simply. "You are the only mortal I have ever told my story to. I did so because I love you. I want to ask you, unworthy as I am, to do me the honour of being my wife. If you reject me then I shall understand and consider it an honour to have been a friend. You need not answer me now - but I will await your reply with both trepidation and impatience."
"And you would trust me with your history on such risky grounds as this?" She asked.
Unable to speak further he merely nodded.
"Oh sweet love. Michel...Methos. I have loved you from the moment we met. I will be your wife and gladly." She looked into his eyes, her own bright with unshed tears.
"You believe my story and yet you'll still have me?"
"And did you think to drive me away with it? Ah no my love, I understand you better than you think. It was a test - perhaps for both of us- and since I seem to have passed with flying colours I would like to show you something..come"
She struggled to her feet and limped toward the cave. He followed her without speaking, indeed he could think of nothing he could adequately say..he could barely believe that she had accepted him. The Horsemen, his crimes..had not weighed against him when she came to judge his worth. She loved him and he felt light at heart for the first time in centuries.
As they entered the cave she took his hand. The light inside was much brighter than it had been the previous evening, where sunlight filtered through the crevices in the rock the whole cavern was bathed a warm gold. Stopping near the niche where she had rested the night before she pointed to some graffiti on the cave wall. That it was old was easy to ascertain given the weathering it had been subjected to even inside ...the elements were not entirely shut out by the roof and walls of rock.
Looking up at the area she was pointing to he read 'I am Methos, slave to Cyrus Alcestes', underneath there were enough tally marks to number 142.
She looked at him willing him to speak, but he felt shaken to the core..he had not realised that this had been the place. The place where he had taken his first head, his first quickening. The cave had called to him, but he hadn't recognised it until now. Abruptly, he sat down.
"I saw that yesterday," Themis said, "I knew somehow that you would find me, I also knew you had written it..I felt your prescence here in the cave..do you think that sounds weird?"
He choked back a laugh. "After all I just told you, you ask me if you having intuitive thoughts and feelings sounds weird? No Themis..I did not remember this but now I know why I felt called to look for you here. I wrote that after I took Cyrus' head. I did not know what had happened to me. I hid here after the quickening, afraid of what had just occurred, but the force of it had loosened the rocks above and caused a landslide."
"You were here 142 days before you got out?"
"Or thereabouts," he affirmed, "I had almost given up hope of ever being found, that was why I had started the 'diary'..in case I was never found alive..I did not know then that I was immortal. I had nearly forgotten this place. But yesterday as I was walking the hills I felt pulled toward this cavern, I had a feeling of deja-vu about it, it was as if the cave itself called to me."
"Then I was right, the fates have brought us together, they have decreed it..we were meant for each other." And she embraced and kissed him with such passion that he felt as if his heart would surely burst.
As he gazed through the open window at the small white crests on the waves below, remembereing the events which had led to this moment, he felt a fierce rush of joy. He also felt supremely blessed. Somehow the gods had seen fit to smile on him once more.
Hearing a slight rustling sound behind him he turned and caught his breath. Themis stood in his doorway, adorned in her wedding finery - a crown of lillies on her head. He had thought her beautiful before but now she seemed to radiate beauty from within and without creating an aura around her, making her appear to him as is she were an angel from a rennaisance painting.
"My very own Diana." He breathed.
She laughed. "Oh my dearest, if you praise me so highly my head will swell to the most ugly proportions, and then where will we be?"
"Never! Your head will always stay as perfect as it is now." He moved closer to her.
"I came to bring you your crown," she said, holding it out to him, "I should go. If Mama finds out that I brought it to you, instead of letting Alexandra do it, she will be convinced that there is a hex on the wedding and she will go into a terminal sulk."
"I beg a boon before you go." He said reaching out to her.
"A boon?"
"One more kiss before we wed." He said, catching her left cheek in his hand, his fingers playing with her long dark hair.
"Oh Methos, Methos," She said closing her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by his love for her.
"Themis, my beloved." He sighed and he kissed her softly.
"Themis, my beloved, one more kiss." he murmured sleepily.
"Methos!"
The voice changed from the tender contralto of his loving bride to be to that of an outraged baritone.
Tiredly opening his eyes he took in the sight of Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, his handsome face registering shock. Methos' hand was entwined in his hair. He had no doubt been the recipient of the last kiss which he could still feel tingling against his lips.
Hurriedly he withdrew his hand and passed it across his face. God in heaven what would the man think of him? The dream had been realistic to the last detail..so much so that for a time he had actually been there again in Thessalonica, the scent and sounds and feelings as real in the dream as they had once been in life.
"I 'm sorry Mac," he managed finally, "I was dreaming."
"Must've been a hell of a dream." Duncan observed wryly. "Who was she? Someone special?"
"The last woman I loved before I met Alexa, her name was Themis, she was my 68th wife."
Duncan heard the wistful note in his Methos' voice. "You must have loved her very much." He said gently.
"I did," Methos sighed, "I loved her more than life itself."
A long pause ensued. Finally Methos ran a hand thorugh his own hair and looked at Duncan. "So why did you wake me?"
"Just keeping a promise..it's six o'clock and all's well. Catriona just woke up and she's asking for you."
Nodding, Methos got up out of bed. "I'll get dressed first, tell her I'm just coming."
Mac stood and moved towards the door.
"Oh Mac..." Methos called after him.
Duncan turned to regard the old man, eyes raised in a question. "Yes Methos?"
"Erm..sorry about the ..you know..the intimacy.."
Methos was pinker in the face than Duncan had ever seen him, he didn't think it was possible for anyone to look more embarrased.
"Don't worry about it Methos, it's not worth mentioning." Duncan said, grinning slightly. " Although I must say I had no idea you were such a tender and sweet kisser."
"MacLeod!" Methos outrage was obvious as he turned from pink to red and his voice went up an octave.
Raising his hands in mock surrender Duncan left, chuckling at his friend's reaction. Leaving him to dress he went to help Joe start fixing breaklfast.