Disclaimer: I own nothing but Meave….and she's nothing to be proud of.

Warnings: Gore, making fun of Irishmen, cursing, sex talks, war, not beta'd….the usual

Title: Stupid Irishman!

CHAPTER SEVEN

"You must really like her; you've been giddy ever since you met with her." Meave teased William, hoping to lighten the mood just a little. It was foggy, and cold, and the men were tired. They hardly had as many laughs as they did before.

Stephen and Hamish laughed at their friend's expense, just as some horses were led before them with their riders heads completely covered with hoods.

"Just when we thought all hope was lost," Stephen joked, wrapping one arm around his wife, "our noble saviors have arrived. Off with their…hoods!"

Meave quickly covered up a snort with a cough, wouldn't do to ruin the mood now.

Craig was the first unmasked, "Sir William, we've come to seek a meeting."

"Well, what's the point?" William faced him, contempt in his voice, "You've all sworn loyalty to Longshanks."

"An oath to a liar is no oath at all." Craig pointed out, "Every man of us is ready to swear loyalty to you."

"So let the council swear it publicly." William insisted, and Meave couldn't help but agree.

"We cannot." Of course they couldn't, Meave smelt a rat, but Craig went on. "Some scarcely believe you are alive. Others think you'll pay them Mornay's wages. So we bid you to Edinburgh. Meet us two days from now. Give us your pardon and we'll unite behind you. Scotland will be one."

"One?" Meave snorted, glaring at the two nobles.

"You mean us and you." William nodded, agreeing with the young woman.

"No, I mean this." Craig than pulled out something from under his tunic, causing William to quickly snatch it up. Meave didn't get a good look at it, but it looked dirty and blood stained…and had embroidery on it.

Realizing what it was, Meave glared at Craig, how had he gotten it?

"It's a pledge of Robert the Bruce." Craig insisted.

Two days later Meave stood with Hamish and her husband, trying to convince William that it would definitely be a bad thing to go.

"You do know it's a trap. Tell him." Hamish insisted of Stephen.

"I think if the Bruce wanted to kill you he'd have done it already at Falkirk." Stephen shrugged, not noticing his wife give a shudder of her own at the remembrance of the battle.

"Aye." William agreed.

"I know, we saw."

"We did." Meave agreed with her husband, having been there.

"I ain't leaving him aside. What about the others?" Hamish insisted, "The nest of scheming bastards couldn't agree on the color of shite. It's a trap, are you blind?"

"We've got to try." William argued back, "We can't do this alone. Joining the nobles is the only hope for our people. You know what happens if we don't take that chance?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

Meave slipped back slightly, almost feeling the fight that would happen in the air. Confused, Stephen stepped back as well, but other than that, they didn't move nor speak, just let the two best friends work it out.

"I don't want to be a martyr." Hamish grumbled.

"Nor I. I want to live. I want a home, and children, and peace."

"Do ya?"

"Aye, I do." William pressed onward, "I've asked God for these things. It's all for nothing if you don't have freedom."

Slowly, Hamish shook his head, "It's all a dream, William."

William stared at his friend in shock, "A dream? Just a…? Ha! What we've been doing all this time; we've lived that dream."

"You dream isn't about freedom." Hamish insisted once more, "It's about Murron. You're doing this to be a hero because you think she sees you."

Ouch, Meave mentally winced, that was a low blow.

"I don't think she sees me." William stared pityingly at his friend, "I know she does. And your father sees you, too."

All of a sudden, Hamish hit William, socked him clear in the mouth so that the Scot stumbled and fell. Then, having fed up with the conversation, Hamish sighed in defeat and angrily stormed away.

Looking to the sky Stephen muttered a quite "Jesus?!" before he and Meave helped William to his feet, "Get up. Give us your hand. Shall I come with you?"

"Shall we come with you?" Meave corrected, sending a glare over to the Irishman.

"No, I'll go alone." William shook hands with Stephen before giving Meave a one armed hug.

"I'll see you after." Stephen smiled his strange smile as Meave slipped under one arm, smiling and waving farewell to their friend.

"Right." William mounted and was off.

Watching him leave, Meave saw her Irishman look up at the sky out of the corner of her eye, "Sooner rather than later, I hope."

"You and me both." Meave sighed, looking up as well. She had been hanging around Stephen too long; she had started to pick up his mannerisms.

~Time Skip~

As soon as word had been sent that William had been captured, Hamish, Stephen, and Meave rushed to London, hoping to save their friend…but they came too late.

They had come just in time to witness his torture.

"Oh, no!" Meave whimpered under her hooded cloak, burying her face into Stephen's chest, her stomach twisting in fear and disgust at the people spitting and throwing things at such a great man.

She watched in horror as they hoisted William up in the air, stretching him and choking him. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she clutched at her husband, but otherwise tried to make it so they wouldn't be noticed among the cheering crowd.

The cheering crowd that Meave wanted to hurt so badly for causing her friend so much pain.

Almost to the point where Meave thought that William couldn't take it anymore, the executioner signs to let the Scot down, causing him to fall to the floor with a jarring pain Meave almost felt.

"Pleasant, yes?" The Executioner teased, "Rise to your knees, kiss the royal emblem on my cloak, and you will feel no more."

Half wishing that William would do that, and half not, Meave watched the brave man stood, but gave no response.

"Rack him" Was the next order.

This caused William to be stretched in mid-air by ropes tied to his hands and feet. Meave could almost hear the bones in his fragile human body strain, almost to the point of breaking. She was a healer! She wanted so badly to go up there and help him, but knew if she did she'd be burned at the stake.

The English weren't as lenient as the Scottish or the Irish for Witches and her kind. After all, she was married to an Irishman, but if she had married an Englishman, she would have been raped and burned…or worse.

"Enough?" The Executioner asked, mad that William resists and decided that he wouldn't be broken that way. He signaled his men to drop him again, making Meave wince at the sound of the impact.

The assistance's all moved William onto a heavy cross shaped table before the crowd, tying down his arms and legs. William's tunic was cut open with one hooked blade, than they start to disembowel him!

Gasping, and covering her mouth least she vomit, Meave gave a whimper that caused the couple near them to cast her strange looks. Right upon hearing his wife, Stephen wrapped his arms around her, whispering reassurances to her.

The couple stared at them, then back to the man being tortured, but not as joyfully as they had been before, starting to realize that William had yet to cry out.

"It can all end, right now." The Executioner reassured William as they disemboweled him, "Peace. Bliss. Just say it. Cry out for mercy."

Now realizing that William hadn't yet cried out, the crowd started shouting the word for him. All worried and realizing that this, what was happening, what their king was making this man go through, wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it at all. William had just fought for what he believed in, and their horrible king was making him go through all this just because he expressed what he believed.

"Cry out." The Executioner whispered near William's ear as the crowd chanted "mercy", "Just say it. One word. Mercy."

"Mercy, William, mercy." Hamish said next to them, as if William could hear his friend and he could push William to say it.

"Jesus, now say it." Stephen all but begged.

"Oh, William, please!" Meave cried out, shaking her head at the scene.

Suddenly the Executioner spoke, causing everyone to quite down, "The prisoner wishes to say a word."

Everyone waited on bated breath, hoping it was, yet knowing that "mercy" wouldn't be the word.

"FREEDOM!" William suddenly shouted, making more than one heart stop.

Meave wept into Stephen's shoulder as they watched William turn to look at them…no, look behind them. It was as if he was seeing something that wasn't really there. But, whatever it was, it gave him great peace if the look on his face when they beheaded him was anything to go by.

"He saw Murron." Hamish sighed, moving forward quickly to take the embroidery off the ground.

"Yes," Meave sniffed, taking the fabric and hiding it in her Irish dress, "I believe he did."

All three looked on as they started to do the unthinkable, tearing William's body into pieces.

Those pieces would be sent to all the four corners of Britain, as a warning. His head would be on London Bridge. It was hoped to put fear inside the hearts and souls of all those that opposed the English…or, at least, that's what Longshanks had planned.

After their friends beheading, Meave, Stephen, and Hamish returned to Edinburgh and joined Robert the Bruce as he rode out to pay homage to the armies of the English king and accept his endorsement of Robert's crown.

Looking out over the battle field, Meave licked her lips, sharing a look and a passed hand squeeze with her husband. She knew there would be no fighting, but still she had her broom and quiver attached to her back, a sword at her side, her bow in hand and several daggers hidden about her person.

Looking over, Meave shared a look with Robert the Bruce as he took Murron's wedding gift to William out, lightly holding it in his hands.

"Come." Meave heard Craig say to Robert, "Let's get it over with." He started out, only to be stopped by Robert.

"Stop." Robert ordered before turning to face his Scotsmen, "You have bled with Wallace, and now bleed with me."

A grin slowly appeared on Meave's face, sharing a happy glance between Hamish and Stephen.

Then, with a war cry, Hamish took William's sword out onto the field, throwing it and watching as it stabs into the earth, standing much like the cross.

Soon the chant began a chant that Meave had heard many times before. A chant of "Wallace!" over and over again.

At Roberts signal, Meave took to her broom, soaring high in the air, shooting arrows down upon the unsuspecting English; only returning down when she had ran out and wanted some English to slaughter.

~Many Years Later~

"William! You get back here!" Meave shouted, glaring out at the young boy that was running off from her again…on her broom.

"Let him go, The Almighty says he'll be just fine." Stephen suddenly appeared behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her large swollen belly.

"I worry about him. He's not like his sisters, who are older." Meave admitted, watching their son do a loop in the air, "He doesn't have a good grasp of his magic yet, he doesn't even know what his special gift is."

Kissing his wife's neck he reassured her again, "If he's anything like his namesake…He knows."

Sharing a secret smile with her husband, Meave nodded, "Aye, I guess your right…"

THE END!