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Post by himiko on Jan 12, 2008 12:04:47 GMT 9.5
A few hours later, and Mab found herself once more facing Merlin. There was less than a day left before the trade was supposed to go ahead, and she knew she could no longer put off telling Merlin. She certainly couldn't let him go to the trade unprepared- partly because it would make him panic even more, and in his already fragile mental state, might put himself in more danger as a result, and partly because Mab feared that if she tried to fool him into going to Vortigern, then he would certainly never trust her again. He watched her with such trust on his face now, that it was hard enough to say it as it was.
"Merlin," she began, forcing her voice to firmness, "I need to talk to you." He nodded expectantly, waiting for her to continue. "It's about Mordred," she began, hesitantly, rushing on before she lost her will to do this, "Vortigern is willing to return him, but only in return for you." Merlin blinked in surprise.
"Me? Why?"
"I don't know," Mab muttered bitterly, "Because he knows that you're my son? Whatever his reasons, that is the only bargain he will accept." Merlin watched her nervously, as though waiting for her to say something.
"But... you're not going to, are you?" he asked, piteously, staring at her. Mab flinched.
"Merlin, if I don't, he's going to kill Mordred." Merlin nodded slightly, as if in understanding, his face pale.
"You want Mordred here more than me. He was right." Mab shook her head desperately.
"No, Merlin, that's not true..." she insisted, and a dim voice inside her noted that indeed, it must be untrue, for she couldn't lie- she loved Mordred, yes, but she loved her son, too.
"But if Vortigern's going to kill Mordred, won't he kill me instead?"
"No!" hissed Mab forcefully, "He says he will keep you alive in return for my help."
"But what happens when he doesn't need your help anymore?" Gods, she hated the way he was looking at her- childish bewilderment, fear, betrayal.
"Merlin, I will not let him harm you, I swear, I will tear him apart, I will paint his palace walls with his blood before I let him hurt you. When we go to make the trade, you will have to go to him, but Loke will appear and take you back. You won't be hurt. Please, you have to trust me..." Merlin watched her for a moment.
"I remember," he muttered, "Before I woke up the first time, there was a light, and everything was disappearing- your voice was there, you said to trust you, and I did, and then it hurt." His voice turned distant at the memory, but even so, Mab saw him shudder at the memory, "But you brought me back here. I... I trust you." Still, there was a great deal more hesitation in his words now than there had been the last time he spoke them, and Mab prayed he was never given the oppurtunity to think any lower of her.
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Post by Lane of Magic on Jan 14, 2008 2:55:07 GMT 9.5
The two days seemed to pass rather slow for Vortigern, who hadn’t found it hard to organize more than a quarter of his men to guard every corner of the castle, to see if there was the slightest trace of an intruder.
“Why did you promise to keep Merlin alive?” a familiar voice spoke suddenly. Vortigern gave a disdainful look at the creature that seemed to have made a habit of appearing without warning.
“It’s to my advantage. In case you haven’t heard, she swore to help me defeat Cornwall in exchange for it.”
“A help you don’t need,” it pointed out, but Vortigern just smiled.
“Maybe I chose to need it.”
“Ah, I see… But don’t fool yourself – Mab’s going to strike when you least expect it.”
“I know,” he replied, the smile still in place. It seemed to annoy the mysterious creature to no end.
“So you don’t care anymore about the revenge we planned? You must kill Merlin. That’s why I helped you.”
“Oh…” So there had been a reason after all, Vortigern realised. “Trouble is, I never asked for your help, and frankly I don’t need you around anymore. Besides, I never said I’d kill Merlin right away…”
“You will regret this decision, but I won’t help you then,” the creature spoke, vanishing.
“Good riddance…” the former king muttered to himself. He wasn’t sure what he might obtain with this conditioned “alliance”, but one thing he was sure of: he would rather deal with someone who had no choice but to help him, than some mysterious creature who’d asked nothing in return for all its helpful suggestions.
“Your time is almost up, Madam…” he said quietly.
––-
She had turned the matter over and over again in her mind, she had tried to use every second she had – still, there seemed to be no other way except for Loke’s suggestion, and Mab coud only hope they would succeed. As if her thoughts had summoned him, her brother entered the room.
“You’ve told Merlin, haven’t you?” Mab nodded.
“I couldn’t put it off any longer. Make sure you come there when I summon you, not a moment sooner, not a moment later. Loke?” The Lord of Fire forced an encouraging smile.
“I will do exactly what I have to do, to get this business settled. Don’t worry,” he finished, trying to somehow reassure her, although he knew he would not be there.
“I’ll… I’ll go for Merlin then.”
“I won’t fail you, sister, you’ll see that…” the Lord of Fire muttered once Mab had left the room. “You will see that, eventually.”
––-
Despite Mab’s reassuring words, Merlin had been left with many doubts, feeling lost and – he couldn’t deny it – disappointed. It was certainly reflected in the way he looked at Mab, as she entered his room.
“It’s… time,” she couldn’t bring herself to watch him in the eyes as she uttered the words. The wizard sighed.
“This is it, then.”
“I know this is very dangerous – not only for you, but for Mordred as well, should Vortigern realise what I’m trying to do. But we’re going to make it, we’ve been through worse, and I brought you back every time. I wouldn’t lose you now,” she tried to sound comforting. Merlin gave her an incredulous look – she’d brought him back “every time”?
“You have…” he went to ask, but Mab didn’t notice his confusion – or perhaps she chose to ignore it, knowing there was no point in explaining more than she cared or had time to.
“Merlin,” she continued in a firm tone, “Whatever happens, I don’t want you to hesitate a moment to use magic to defend yourself – what you have learned so far might be nothing compared to everything there is to learn, or even what you knew before, but it is surely enough to deal with a few mortals. Just believe in it, in yourself… in me.”
Merlin knew she was sincere, he saw that tenderness which was so rare to spot in her gaze – he didn’t doubt that she was honestly worried about him, he was her son, after all. But knowing she would risk his life for the sake of a man who hated him so much, was still beyond his understanding. Still, the wizard nodded in agreement.
“Give me your hand,” Mab whispered, holding out her own hand. She hesitated for a moment involuntarily, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety. She’d known she would have to meet Vortigern again in two days’ time, but she’d never thought exactly what to do or say – there wasn’t anything more she could say than when they had parted. What would he say? Try humiliate her again? Would he see right through her again, sense she’s planned something?
Mab blinked a few times, trying to clear her mind, remembering herself it was her only way to get Mordred back, then took her son’s hand and both she and Merlin disappeared from the Land of Magic soon after.
––-
“I’m here,” the serpent voice did not startle Vortigern in the least.
“Madam…” He hadn’t doubted she would come, and was in no way reluctant to let his satisfaction show in the smirk which appeared on his face as soon as he heard her voice.
“I’ve brought you Merlin, as you wanted. Now send your guards for Mordred.” Vortigern raised an eyebrow at the commanding tone, but continued to smile.
“Of course,” he replied, then called to one of the guards outside, who hurried to obey the command. His eyes shifted briefly to the wizard, who looked visibly uncomfortable and indeed showed no sign of recognizing him. He waved a hand in front of him briefly.
“I’m Vortigern,” he said flatly, staring at him. Merlin only nodded, avoiding the man’s gaze. Mab advanced swiftly towards him, looking daggers at him.
“I told him who you are. And I’m going to tell you this just once – do anything to him whilst he’s here, and I swear I will kill you,” she whispered.
“Awh, Mab, truly, I thought we were through killing each other by now. And to think I was only trying to be nice to your dear son… He will spend some time here, and I believe you’d want him to feel welcomed? You most certainly will be…” he trailed off as the doors opened and two guards brought in a struggling, threateningly glaring Mordred. Vortigern smirked at him, but said nothing.
Seeing his aunt so close to Vortigern surely didn’t appease Mordred, after all the time he’d spent agonizing in his cell over the former king’s words. He just wouldn’t believe it was possible for Mab to sleep with someone else while under the influence of the spell, but he couldn’t stop the doubt from tearing at him. But she must love him, otherwise she wouldn’t have come and would not have looked at him the way she did when he entered the room. He hated appearing in front of her so helpless, his only consolation being the thought of killing Vortigern as soon as he had the chance.
“Untie him,” Mab whispered to Vortigern, but he shook his head.
“I can’t do that,” he replied, then signalled two other guards to keep an eye on Merlin, who’d remained a few steps behind them. “But you’re free to take him,” he finished, as the guards holding him pushed him towards Mab.
“Auntie?” he wanted to tell her how sorry he was for having been so reckless, how he would destroy all her enemies… but most of all he wanted to know if Vortigern had spoken the truth.
“We’ll talk in the Land of Magic,” Mab said once the boy was near her, then turned her gaze towards Merlin. “It’ll be fine…” She blinked slowly, soundlessly calling her brother’s name, and a barely noticeable smile graced her features, as her eyes rested on Vortigern again.
––-
Back in the Land of Magic, Loke was pacing the library unsettled, the Lord of Death staring at the book which had caused so much misfortune. Neither of them said a word, just waited, the only sounds in there being those of the steps the Lord of Fire made and the fluttering of wings of the fairies and pixies outside.
Loke, now! He stopped as soon as he heard the call, and turned to Idath, “She’s summoned me. Go. Now!” Before he had spoken the last word, the other man had vanished.
––-
“Anything you’ve forgotten?” Vortigern asked, seeing the Queen of the Old Ways had remained in place. Mab hesitated a moment, knowing she still had to play along till it was all over, then spoke.
“I… want to know when I can come see my…” she trailed off, as a flash of lightning blinded her for a second. Her eyes widened to see Idath there, after having made it so clear he would have no part in this. “Idath, what are you doing here?” she breathed out.
“Not very nice of you, Madam… For your information, don’t try anything – one of my many archers who are currently aiming at your pawns is sure to kill either of them, if you make a move.” Vortigern said inexorably. He had expected she might try something, but truth be told he hadn’t imagined she would actually call anyone of her kind for help, not that seeing the Lord of Winter there impressed him - or if it did, he didn’t show it. Mab realised something was terribly wrong when Idath didn’t take Merlin with him in good time, but one thing was clear – the situation was once again out of her hands.
“I swear I didn’t send him! I didn’t know he’d come here,” she turned to Vortigern, as the men guarding Merlin had already taken out their swords, pointing them at the wizard’s throat. But before they could do more, before Vortigern could give them any orders, Idath spoke.
“Go on, leave your son to his death, after everything you’ve been through to get him back!” Mab’s face fell, while the former king seemed rather intrigued with this new turn of events and decided to just wait for a while.
“Idath, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I want you to leave this instant,” Mab hissed, although she knew Idath was right and it was too late to stick to Loke’s plan – she didn’t know why her brother hadn’t come, and her mind was already reeling from the new circumstances she found herself in. Idath’s coming here had made everything worse – Mab knew that Vortigern would now be far more tempted to kill Merlin, and the dread must have shown on her face, for the Lord of Death continued, his words reflecting her thoughts exactly.
“Oh, I will leave, don’t worry, but make no mistake about this – your son is going to die, should you leave him here. And for what, for this «champion» of yours?” Idath gave Mordred a disdainful look, making the boy snarl in rage at his current helplessness.
Mab’s eyes rested on Merlin again, feeling more torn and somehow more confused than ever. She saw his gaze – he would be lost, if she let him here now. But what else could she do?
“Auntie, why are you even listening to him?” Mordred asked in a sulky tone, glaring at the Lord of Death, who didn’t pay him attention anymore.
“You have to make your choice, Mab. Will you consciously let him die?” he said coldly. Mab was still looking at her son, trying to find a way around this, hoping he would not hate again.
“I know you will make the right choice, I… trust you.” It was all Merlin could say.
“She always makes the right choice,” Vortigern added smirking, and Mordred clenched his fists, looked at his aunt almost infuriated when she said nothing. But Mab didn’t notice him, nor did she hear Vortigern – or if she did hear him speak, it didn’t register. She only heard her son’s words replay over and over again in her mind – he trusted her, just like she had asked him to when she had brought him back, when he had given up everything and anyone else and had chosen to come back.
“I…” she frowned – this had all gone so horribly wrong! There was no way out and yet Mab felt she was missing something. She didn’t know what purpose Idath could have had, to come there and mess everything up like that, but he would regret it.
“You what? You care more about some childish brat than your son? Will you let your son die because of Mordred?” he barked.
“No! I would never…” the instinctive reply came again, and Mab blinked a few times, before finishing the phrase slowly, “…I would never risk my sons life because of him.” She turned pale as the reality of the words dawned upon her, as she realised what had been wrong all along, and the realisation almost suffocated her more than the uncertainty of not knowing. She remained frozen, taking it all in.
Hearing her say it aloud that she chose Merlin over him, again, despite even the spell, was a blow Mordred could not take. Up to this point, he had tried to tell himself that it was all Vortigern’s lie, that Mab still loved him, that he was her favourite, the most important person for her. But now he could not stay there and not say a thing. “He was telling the truth, wasn’t he, Auntie?” Mordred asked through gritted teeth, feeling nothing but an overwhelming rage.
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Post by Tosca on Jan 14, 2008 7:10:30 GMT 9.5
She simply ignored him - turned her head away from him, as if he wasn't even there. It was more humiliating than the ropes tying his wrists together, or the men that had shoved him roughly forwards knowing he couldn’t touch them, or the smug smirk still played across the king’s face. And with her face turned away, Mordred couldn’t search her face for a clue, a sign – the spell had broken, but did she realize…? Did she know it was an enchantment? Was she aware that he’d tricked her? He was boiling with rage, but the hope that maybe she didn’t kept him rooted to the spot.
“The deal’s off.” Mab said silkily to Vortigern. She looked radiant, liberated by the sudden enlightenment, and she gazed at the king with a smugness to match his own. “Keep him.”
Vortigern’s eyebrows arched upwards. This wasn’t what he’d hoped for – not at all. Without Merlin, there would be no reason for Mab’s alliance, nor any to stop her from killing him on the spot for what had passed two days ago. He had no leverage if the deal was called off – worse, he had a snubbed and battle crazy young man on his hands who, apparently, was of no use to anyone anymore. To make matters worse, he’d dismissed the creature that had been helping him. Could anything else go wrong.
That question was answered soon enough. Mab had turned and gripped her son by the shoulders, muttering some heartfelt apology to him before drawing him into a gentle embrace. Merlin himself looked as confused as ever, although, dimly, it seemed to register that Mab had done something for him – had chosen him – had saved him. He put his arms loosely around her and hugged her gratefully back.
And that was the final straw for Mordred. Anger, coupled with his formidable strength, made short work of the rope binding his wrists. He gritted his teeth and pulled his hands apart, leaving welts in his skin as the bindings pulled tight, frayed and snapped. “NO!” He roared turning on the guards flanking him. In seconds, he had procured a sword – metal clashed on metal as the two men tried to defend themselves against his rage.
Mab pulled away from Merlin and looked sharply at Vortigern, who was regarding the spectacle as if it were a fine performance, and whose lips were curved into an amused smile. She looked upwards, and saw the archers poised on the battlements, just as he had said, all awaiting his order. She thought calmly that in one thought, he could be dead before their fingers even touched the fletching.
And so nobody moved so much as a muscle as the two guards crumpled to the floor, and Mordred turned slowly towards Mab, who stared back at him impassively. “Auntie Mab...” he grimaced, voice shaking with anger, or grief, or merely restraint, “I thought – in time – you’d see… for real…” When this got no response, he continued, his voice rising in volume. “It was him I was afraid of.” He pointed furiously at Idath, “If anyone was going to break it, I was sure it would be him. But you chose that… that…” His gaze fell upon Merlin, and his mouth contorted, trying to find the right words, the most fitting, the most venomous. In the end, he merely finished, sounding as though he still couldn’t quite understand it, “…you chose him over me.”
There was barely any warning – he didn’t pause for breath, nor hesitate a moment, but in one swift motion, he threw the sword like a javelin. It spun through the air, a blur of whistling steel that the eye could barely keep up with, tracing a path straight into the chest of the dazed wizard – or, at least, would surely have done so if it had not, in mid air, froze, snapped around, and changed direction completely. Mordred had time only to widen his eyes in shock before he staggered backwards at the blow, the sword buried in him to its hilt.
Mab looked down at him, her face quite devoid of emotion. Merlin was stood beside her shaking like a leaf, and she turned towards him, took him by the arm and turned him away, and said softly, “I told you I wouldn’t lose you.”
Idath hadn’t moved from the spot since he arrived. His eyes roved back and forth, staring at the king doing absolutely nothing, Merlin looking like a traumatized child, and Mab pointedly ignoring the dead boy on the ground – the man who, until a few moments ago, she had professed to love more than anything else under the sun. She had killed her ex-lover, her nephew, her champion. What did she have left? A brain damaged son who didn’t know the first thing about their dire situation, and… him? The selfish thoughts crept into his mind even as he tried to suppress them. But Mordred was gone – surely no one else could stand in the path of their love – if he could dare to call it that…
The Lord of Winter ripped himself from his own wishful thoughts. Softly, he said to Mab, “Let’s go… we are finished here.”
Slowly, the Queen of the Old Ways nodded her head. She turned towards Idath – and he raised an arm to cast over her shoulders, and he was about to draw her close when…
“Just a moment, Mab. I don’t believe you are.”
Vortigern stepped smoothly over the body of the young warrior as it twitched with the last spasms of death, and stood brazenly before her. There was always the chance he’d receive the same treatment as her nephew – in fact, considering her expression, it was a damn good chance – but Vortigern was prepared to risk it.
There were a thousand reasons why Mab should smite him on the spot, but she didn’t. She stayed her hand. Merlin was watching, she told herself. He’d already witnessed one death – another would scare the man even more than he already was. And she didn’t want to damage him any further.
Her gaze met Vortigern’s and flashed cold fury as she echoed. “Yes. Give us a moment. Take Merlin back, Idath.”
Idath nodded his head obligingly, and shepherded Merlin away from the two sovereigns. He looked a mess, a trembling wreck. “Come on, Merlin.” The Lord of Death encouraged, in a voice as kindly as he could muster. He was about to disappear with the shaken man back to the Land of Magic, but he caught a snatch of speech, and it stopped him. He glanced back at Mab and Vortigern. Neither noticed that he hadn’t yet vanished. They were stood facing each other like two stone towers, tall, proud and motionless. Idath could feel the tension scything through the air from where he stood several metres away.
“You’re right, Vortigern.” Mab hissed, voice low. “You and I are far from finished.”
“You know, I was hoping you’d say that.” The king responded, smiling indulgently as Mab’s fists curled. “Seems to me you need to reconsider between dropping your alliance with me. After all, who will you put your faith in now?”
Mab narrowed her eyes, and was somewhat thankful that he didn’t give her a chance to answer.
“Your wizard is a senseless gibbering wreck, your champion is lying skewered on the floor – nice shot, by the way – and the only contender left to the throne is a Christian who would surely wipe out what’s left of your people. The only contender apart from me, that is.”
Mab sneered. “And you are as trustworthy as they come.”
Scoffing, Vortigern’s smile widened as he responded, “It’s not me that’s failed to keep my word thus far, is it? You called off the bargain, milady, not I. But I see no reason to forget our new found… friendship.”
Oh, Gods, she should incinerate him for that.
“You see no reason?” She spluttered, sounding far less controlled than she meant to. “Would you like me to list them?”
Vortigern grimaced with mock hurt. “Oh, come now. Must we really squabble over one petty misunderstanding?”
“Misunderstanding?” Mab laughed lightly. “That’s a novel way of putting it, Vortigern. What you did -”
She had taken a step towards him in her anger and he took a step to meet her. “What we did, milady. What we both did. And if you are wise, one moment of weakness shouldn’t close your eyes to the… endless possibilities that lie ahead of us, nor stop you from doing what’s sensible. It’s bad enough you lie to yourself about it…”
“What are you talking about?” Mab snapped, glaring at the king as if she meant to burn him up with her very gaze.
Vortigern shrugged lazily. “You’ve proved quite adept at deceiving yourself of late. Well, you’re seeing clearly where your nephew is concerned. Try accepting the whole truth.” He smiled again, more warmly. “I know a part of you, maybe a small part, maybe larger than you’d like to think… I know a part of you enjoyed it.”
It was Mab’s turn to laugh. “You always were arrogant, Vortigern. Enjoy it? What do you take me for? Of course I – gack…”
She blinked. Her throat had seized up completely. She couldn’t get the words out, no matter how hard she tried. The revelation hit her like a physical blow.
The king nodded slowly. “That’s right. I know you can’t lie. I’ve seen them unwilling – the scared ones cry and act like corpses, and the spirited ones thrash like wild animals. You did neither. Part of you wanted this to happen, even if it was an unacknowledged part. Try and deny that, if you will. And while you’re at it, deny that you still need me.”
Mab stared. Then, in a flicker of light, she vanished. She would not stand to hear this any more - and certainly not humiliate herself by answering… or failing to.
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Post by himiko on Jan 15, 2008 4:16:22 GMT 9.5
Loke looked up expectantly as Mab returned to the Land of Magic, a look that turned to concern as he saw the look on Mab's face, and glanced around her, noticing that neither Merlin nor Mordred was with her, not to mention Idath.
"Where...?" he began, confusedly, before Mab interrupted him.
"Mordred is dead," she replied, allowing herself to feel a small pang of emotion- not for what he had become, but for the child that had been so loyal to her and the young man who had sworn allegiance to her. He would have been a good champion. But he hadn't been satisfied with that, and it had all gone horribly wrong- whatever his intents, to all purposes what he had done had been as bad as Vortigern's actions. She flinched again at the memory of what the former king had said. Loke was talking again, and she forced herself to concentrate.
"What happened?" He looked concerned, worried, though he had shown little enough love for Mordred before- and then it dawned on Mab.
"You knew, didn't you? You knew it wasn't real." Loke sighed and nodded.
"Yes, I knew. Not the whole time, but whilst you were with Vortigern, I..."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mab demanded, though she sounded more confused than angry, "You knew I might give up my son, you hated it when I took Mordred as a lover, so why didn't you tell me?" In response, Loke tossed the book containing the spell to her.
"Because it wouldn't have broken the spell, and you're just about stubborn enough to have left him to rot anyway- and you know what would have happened to you then." Mab nodded, before glancing around herself.
"Where are Idath and Merlin?" Loke's reply was interrupted by a flash of light, as the aforementioned finally made their entrance. Mab turned to face them, puzzled at their late arrival- hadn't they left before her?... And then she caught sight of Idath's face, saw the look of confusion and hurt, and the way his gaze didn't quite meet hers, and then she realised.
"He was there. He heard." Behind her, she heard Loke breathe a sigh of relief as he saw her son, and felt him clap an arm around her shoulders.
"You had me worried there for a minute- even the other gods would shudder to think what you'd have done to us if something had gone wrong, isn't that right, Idath?" Mab wasn't looking at him, but she could practically feel his grin nontheless. Idath on the other hand merely nodded quickly.
"Indeed," he muttered. Merlin stood beside him, still shuddering, and Mab wondered for a moment if he too had heard what Vortigern said, if he had understood, if he no longer knew how to react to her.
"Merlin?" she asked uncertainly, reaching out her hand towards her son. He peered up at her, and suddenly, quite unexpectedly lurched forward and clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder and shivering. Blinking in surprise, Mab tried to comfort her son.
"Don't worry. It's over now..." She felt her brother give her arm what was probably meant to be a reassuring squeeze, and turn to Idath.
"I think perhaps we should leave them to it." Idath nodded and turned swiftly, followed shortly by Loke, who, if he was confused by Idath's attitude, didn't show it.
Mab watched them go, before turning her gaze back to her son. It was quite clear that Idath had heard Vortigern's accusation, and her failed denial. He no longer seemed to know what to say to her, and something in that hurt. To be honest, she no longer knew precisely what she felt for Idath- so much had passed since they were last truly happy together- the birth of their son, Idath's rejection, the enchantment- to confuse her. He had professed his love for her, and she could not say for certain that she loved him back, because she no longer knew. But now he could barely look at her. Not that she could blame him- she could barely stomach the thought of it herself.
"Part of you enjoyed it..." She hated Vortigern for that, hated him with all her heart. How could she have enjoyed it? She recalled the events, unwillingly- had she not wished herself somewhere else, had she not been pushed into it only through Vortigern's blackmail, had she not pulled away until he had demanded her cooperation? How could any of her have enjoyed it? And yet, she couldn't deny it- the words stuck in her throat, marking themselves as a lie. And that bastard knew it. She wished she could kill him- if the situation were different, she would have, enjoyment or not, and taken a savage kind of pleasure from it. But she couldn't now- and this was the most painful part- because Vortigern had been right. What other options were there for the ruler of Britain? Gorlois- a man who hated the Old Ways, who would crush her people given half the chance.
Gritting her teeth, she rested her head on Merlin's shoulder now, in turn. At least he didn't have her son. That was something.
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Post by Lane of Magic on Jan 16, 2008 2:52:35 GMT 9.5
Merlin couldn’t make out much of what had happened, and it confused him to a certain degree to see just how easily Mab had turned that sword and sent it back into Mordred’s chest. He thought she loved that boy - after all, she’d been ready to go ahead with the trade up to the last second - but then again, he also knew that by doing so she had saved his life. And he could only be grateful for that.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, and Mab looked up at him.
“You’re feeling better?” He nodded, then spoke a tad uncertainly.
“What will happen now?” She gave him a questioning look, which propelled him to develop. “Well, you always talk about the Old Ways, about a champion to bring the people back to you – what will happen now?” Mab thought the question over for a moment, then forced herself to smile – to her surprise, it wasn’t very difficult, because not everything was lost, was it? There might still be someone to fight this war, although she didn’t want to think about that at the moment, but focus instead on the fact that indeed she had her son with her. He was safe. And he didn’t hate her – of course that was enough to make her smile, considering what they had just gone through.
“Now I’m going to see what I can do with the cards I have left. And you will go on with your study of magic, and become that champion I need.” She noticed her son shift uncomfortably, and decided that perhaps she should give him time, to let it all sink in. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to learn it all in two days,” Mab said in a light voice. “But I do want you to show me what progress you make.”
“I will,” he answered. She stared at him briefly – he wasn’t trembling anymore, which was good, but he still looked awfully pale and spent.
“You should go rest.”
“Yes, I think we all need that.” Mab only smiled, as Merlin left the room – she didn’t need any rest for once. And ironically, she felt more free and more trapped than ever. There were many things to consider – she was again left without a champion (not one she could count on, in any case), she knew the Old Ways had less followers by the day, and then there was Vortigern.
Obviously, he was as good as king once again. All he had to do to make it official was to defeat Cornwall, which would surely not be very difficult, considering he had an impressive army at his command – he’d said it himself. And yet, he had been willing to keep their alliance – and Mab knew she did not have much time to make the decision and didn’t really have much to lose anymore. If she did, however, renew the alliance, she might have a lot to gain, because she would be the one to ask something in return – she would make him promise to rebuild her shrines and bring the people back to the Old Ways. Yes, she did need him in that respect. But need him was all there was to it, she told herself.
“Try accepting the whole truth” Vortigern’s words drifted again through her mind, making her frown in annoyance. What truth? She hated him – wasn’t that enough truth? She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Very well, maybe – maybe – part of her, the tiniest part possible, had wanted him. He was the only man to ever match her, to ever bring her in a position where she could not say no, she had to give him that. And maybe she liked it – Mab knew she would never have agreed to sleep with him otherwise, she was too proud to give in. But now that it happened, now that her mind was clear from all enchantment and she was all alone with her thoughts… maybe part of her did enjoy his touch, and maybe she still would…
“Damn you, Vortigern!” she snarled, breaking a crystal in her hands, breathing heavily from sheer rage. There was no maybe, and she hated him all the more because of it. But what truly vexed her was knowing that this time there was no spell she could blame this on – just herself.
––-
He had said nothing in Mab’s presence, but now that they were alone, the Lord of Fire gave Idath a very intrigued look. He had noticed the man wasn’t exactly himself, and he’d be damned if he let him vanish back to his kingdom before telling him what was wrong.
“Well, I would expect a bit more excitement, if all went so well? Or it didn’t?…” There was probably nothing the Lord of Death would have wanted less to think of – seeing Mab choke on her words like that, was almost as hard a blow as it had been seeing her with Mordred… and especially with Vortigern – his initial thoughts had been accurate, after all. But he had no desire of sharing this piece of information – the Lord of Fire would surely find out sooner or later, and he did not want to be there when that happened – he had humiliated himself enough as it was, he was the one needing time now.
“It did go well. You’ve seen it yourself – the spell broke, Merlin’s alive and well…” Idath trailed off, grimacing a smile. It only served to arouse Loke’s curiosity.
“So what am I missing?” he asked, unable to wipe off the grin on his face.
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Post by himiko on Jan 16, 2008 6:28:38 GMT 9.5
"It's none of your business, Loke," Idath snapped, turning away from the Lord of Fire. Sighing, Loke made a pacifying gesture.
"I didn't mean to pry, Idath. Calm down." Idath nodded, somewhat coldly.
"Very well."
"Although, if you did feel like sharing..." Loke added hopefully, before a warning glare from Idath cut him off. Both men were interrupted from their discussion by the sudden entrance of Merlin, who was rubbing his eyes tiredly and yawning. He glanced cautiously at both Loke and Idath- Loke gave him a grin that was probably meant to be reassuring, and Idath forced himself to muster up a smile, which dropped off his face as quickly as it had arrived once Merlin had turned the corner out of sight.
"I should go," he said, simply. Loke raised an eyebrow.
"Are you not going to say goodbye to my sister, first? I'm sure she'll want to thank you." He gestured at the door that they had both just left from. Idath went to refuse, then nodded reluctantly. He supposed he should at least say something to Mab, about her being back to normal if nothing else. Congratulate her and go on his way, as always.
He pushed open the door and peered in. Mab stood before him, facing the other way, a crystal lying shattered at her feet. When she heard him come in, she turned to face him, and he lowered his gaze slightly, so she wouldn't see the hurt and the disappointment in his, and so that he would not be able to see any lust for the wrong man in hers.
"I just came to say goodbye," he said hurriedly, "I'm returning to Anoeth now." Mab said nothing, merely watched him for a moment.
"Can you not even bear to look at me anymore, Idath?" she asked, tiredly, "I'd have thought we were both past such things by now." Uncertainly, Idath looked up at her, met her eyes. Her expression wasn't quite what he had expected- she looked angry, and confused, and even hurt, as he himself felt.
"I had thought we were past them, too, Mab. I thought..." Idath caught himself and stopped before he could go any further. Mab peered curiously at him, "It doesn't matter." Mab sighed, said nothing for a moment.
"You didn't leave when I told you to. You heard me talking to Vortigern, didn't you?" she asked, quietly. Idath could think of nothing to say to that- it wasn't as though he could deny it, they both knew that it would be a lie, so he nodded, simply. When he said nothing to follow it, Mab snorted, "So, Lord of Winter, do you despise me once more? You're beginning to make a habit of it."
"Of course I don't despise you!" Idath protested, angrily, "Gods, Mab, did I not make my feelings for you clear enough while you were still under that damn spell? I told you, I loved you. I still do. And I hoped that once you'd returned to normal, once the spell was broken, that you might..."
"Don't!" Mab interrupted suddenly, her face paling, "Please, Idath, not now."
"Why not?" he asked, coldly, "Is it Vortigern? Do you love him?" Mab turned towards him in disbelief.
"No!" she snarled furiously, "I do not love Vortigern. I don't even like him. I hate the man, I loathe him. I wish him dead, and my own admission marks that as the truth, you know that. Never say that to me again, Idath." Idath blinked in surprised at the sheer force of her fury.
"You don't love him," he agreed, nodding, "But you wanted him, and you told me that you didn't." Mab's fists clenched.
"I told you," she snarled, "I loathe him. And I would never have slept with him of my own choice, I would never have sought him out. Whatever... want there may have been on my part- and I say "may"- it was small. I would never have sought him out of my own free will. Besides," she added, shortly, "You and I both know, don't we, Idath, that whatever I may have felt about it would have made little difference to Vortigern in the end. He doesn't want to honour me, or please me, or make me his consort. He wanted to humiliate me, he wanted to hurt me, and he wanted my body, and cared for little else besides that. I've killed for less- I killed today! Do you really think I wanted that reply to be lie, wanted it to stick in my throat? No." She threw her hands up in exasperation, "I don't even know why I'm trying to justify myself to you, of all people." Idath gave her a small smile, tried to make light of it.
"True, it's a rare occasion indeed that you justify yourself to anyone, my dear, let alone me." He cursed himself for the familiarity, but if it irritated Mab, she didn't show it. He hesitated a moment, "Mab, if that isn't the reason that you didn't want to me to continue earlier, then what is it?" She grimaced, and Idath could practically see her preparing to snap at him. To his surprise, however, she began to speak.
"Finish what you were going to say." Idath blinked at her confused.
"I hoped that when the spell broke, perhaps you would feel something for me, back." He shrugged uncomfortably, "Forgive a hunter his daydreams, Mab. If you don't, I can understand. I can't pretend to like it, but I can understand." Mab nodded.
"And that is precisely my point," she said, frankly, "I have no idea. I did love you, once. Don't doubt that. But too much has happened- our son, Anoeth, Mordred, now Vortigern. Everything that I thought I felt has just been turned on it's head. And I don't know anymore. I don't hate you, but other than that I don't know. And that's all the answer I can give you. You'll have to be satisfied with it," she finished, shortly, "I thought you were leaving?" Idath peered at her. So there might be a chance that she could still feel for him? He'd almost rather she had rejected him outright than left him uncertain. Still, he'd asked her. It wasn't her fault.
"Perhaps I was hasty..." he replied, uncertainly. Mab nodded.
"Perhaps you were."
"What will you do about Vortigern?" Mab turned away from him again.
"What will I do?" she asked, laughing without humour, "There's nothing I can do. He's the only non-Christian contestant left to the throne, unless the hapless boy in his dungeons undergoes a sudden conversion to paganism and then takes over his army, and that's unrealistic in the extreme at best. If I kill him, I leave the door open for Gorlois or Arthur. I have no champion, not until Merlin completes his studies, and that could take years- not to mention, if his mind doesn't recover, how can I make him fight? He'll be killed or sent mad in a matter of weeks. The only thing I can do is help Vortigern." She gave another laugh that seemed half snarl, "He wants to blackmail the gods, and I have no choice but to let him."
Idath rested his hand on her shoulder, uncertainly, "He will pay," the Lord of Death promised, "They all do, in the end. Perhaps it will take a long time, but I promise you, he will pay, for all of it, and he will pay threefold what he has done to you."
"And in the meantime?" Mab asked distantly, "What am I supposed to let him get away with until we can afford to make him pay?"
---
Mordred had vague memories of clutching out as he fell, reaching out for Mab. It had to have been a mistake, he thought. Auntie Mab couldn't have killed him, not the woman who had played with him as a child, who had given him gifts and toys and cuddles, who had lavished attention and affection on, who had kissed him and wrapped her arms around him and screamed for him and told him he was her favourite. She had just been trying to scare him, he told himself- a punishment for throwing the sword at Merlin. It couldn't have been real.
And yet, there had been the bloodstained hilt, jutting out from his chest, pain radiating from it. His legs had crumpled and he had fallen to the floor, and blood had pooled beneath him, and it had occured to him that if this was a trick, it was a bloody convincing one. And then he'd reached out again, though his arms had barely moved that time, and he'd wanted his Auntie Mab to come to him and tell him that it was alright, and make everything better again, but she didn't. She'd just left him. And someone had stepped over his crumpled form, and by the time their shadow had passed, Mordred was dead.
"An unfortunate experience indeed."
Awareness flooded Mordred, suddenly. He was aware of being awake once more, and he went to sit up in triumph- cheating death once again! But then he realised that something was wrong- he couldn't sit upright, because he had no body to move. He was merely there- a consciousness, a spirit without a home.
"Now you begin to understand." Mordred would have gritted his teeth in annoyance, if he had any- if being dead involved having a voice echoing away in your thoughts pointlessly, he'd rather get it over with as soon as possible.
"My dear boy," the voice said in mock hurt, "Don't say you don't remember me!" Mordred tried to concentrate on the voice, only to recognise it as that of the traitorous creature that had lured him to his death in the first place. There were many things he would have liked to say, however, he wasn't entirely sure how, and simply emitted enragedness for a while.
"Ah, good, you do remember me. There's no need to shout, by the way, a simple thought will suffice."
What do you want? Mordred demanded. Although all he could see of the creature was still an unclear shady mass, it gave off a very good impression of a smirk.
"To help you."
Help me? You betrayed me to Vortigern- it's your fault I'm dead!
"Now, now, Mordred, let us not go over the top here. It was not I who lusted after your aunt. It wasn't me who slept with her whilst you lay trapped in the dungeons, either. Nor was it I who stabbed you and left you to die, or the reason why she left you. You should thank me- I'm the only one who gives a damn about you now."
I don't want your help, Mordred replied stubbornly. The creature sighed.
"You don't? Not even if it means getting revenge on the bitch who betrayed you and killed you, or the man who has stolen her from you at every turn? You won't get it on your own, you know. Soon, your spirit will drift off to Anoeth like the bird on a breeze, and then you will be in the hands of Lord Idath, and he and his cauldron will make it so you never existed. But if you accept my help, then I can hold you here, make you something apart, something that can take the revenge you want."
Revenge, Mordred thought to himself, Against Merlin, and Auntie Mab, and Vortigern, he deserves it, too...
"Why not?" the spirit laughed in amusement, "You can have him with pleasure, he's little enough loss to the world. What do you say?"
Mordred considered, for a moment. Then, with a great show of hesitancy and haughtiness, the shady form of consciousness that was all that was left of him gave off a great impression of nodding.
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Post by Lane of Magic on Jan 17, 2008 4:32:40 GMT 9.5
She felt the man tighten up, and she bit her tongue for asking such a stupid question, especially asking that none other than Idath, and backed away. She had meant everything she said, of course, but the right question wasn’t truly what Vortigern could get away with before Mab could take her revenge, it was what he could get away with for good, as a small part of her was starting to doubt she would want that revenge anymore – not if it meant saving her people. She didn’t hate only Vortigern, but herself as well for it – Mab grimaced again, trying not to let it show.
“I’m sorry, Idath, that was very careless of me to ask. I appreciate all your support, but there is nothing either of us can do for now. Go back to Anoeth, and don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” He felt helpless, and furious at all that was going on, all he could not control.
“I swear we will make him pay,” Idath snarled, although this wasn’t the best time for empty threats, much as he’d meant it as more of a reassurance.
“Yes, that time will come, we’ll just have to wait…” she muttered.
“But don’t do anything rash, think it all through. I would give anything not to see you in this situation, I’ll try see what other options there could be.” Mab nodded somewhat uncertainly, knowing very well what the only option was. “I would kill him first…” he whispered as if more to himself, before disappearing in a great flash of lighting.
She sank in a chair, rather more relieved than she would have admitted that Idath had finally left – he couldn’t help her in this, only make her feel more guilty with everything she’d done, everything she wished she hadn’t and which she didn’t quite regret. She sighed, trying to make sense of this new confusion – or hoping to reach another, less humiliating conclusion.
“Sister?…” Loke peered in, his eyes searching for a trace of the Lord of Winter – or some indication of what might have gone wrong.
“Idath’s left, if it’s him you’re looking for,” Mab answered tiredly.
“But the two of you talked.”
“We did.” The Lord of Fire watched her anxiously for a while, waiting for something more detailed.
“About what happened? About Mordred, about Vortigern?” Mab nodded uncertainly, only looking at him for a second – enough for the Lord of Emotions to see something, an intriguing glint in her eyes.
“You do feel for him despite everything, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Mab frowned, her head snapping up.
“Idath?… You still want him, now that the spell has been broken? Or don’t you?…” her brother asked, somewhat puzzled by her immediate reaction. Surely Idath couldn’t have done anything to upset her again.
“I don’t know how I feel about Idath, I don’t know if I want him… and I don’t…” Mab trailed off, sighing, not realising when the next words left her lips, in a barely audible whisper, “I don’t think I know about… Vortigern either.”
The Lord of Fire realised what – or who – this was about, and his jaw dropped. “You don’t know who you want… My, my…” If Mab had expected an encouraging pat on the shoulder and some comforting words, she would have been soarly disappointed. Loke stared at her for a moment, as if to assure himself of it, then burst into laughter, to her dismay.
“Truly, sister, I pity the unfortunate that you’ll lay your eyes on – even Vortigern, if he’s managed to get your attention to this extent.”
“Are you insane?! I HATE that man!” Mab growled. And the Lord of Fire shook his head slightly, still terribly amused.
“Oh, I should have seen this coming…” he muttered to himself, as many things became clearer, Idath’s low spirits included. He knew that Vortigern was her only option at the moment, but now he also knew why she would always lose her temper like that whenever Vortigern was mentioned. “Of course you hate him, I don’t doubt that in the least,” he assured her earnestly, but spoiled it with his next words. “But he seems to have gotten under your skin more than you’d want to admit, so it’s not just hate you feel…”
Mab did NOT appreciate the light attitude – truly, her brother always seemed to choose the worst possible moments to take things lightly, and this certainly was not the case. It was not some trifle, it was not funny, and it most definitely was not Loke’s business.
“How dare you?! Just get out of here until you’ve come to your senses!” she growled, tossing a fireball at him. Loke was swift to duck, but did not return the favour, choosing to just grin.
“Well, good luck dealing with denial, sister…” He couldn’t help a snicker at her expense, then reckoned it was wiser to leave her alone for a while, and vanished swiftly in a burst of fire, in which another, far angrier fireball merged.
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Post by Libitine on Jan 21, 2008 3:45:09 GMT 9.5
After Loke's departure, Mab was in the worst of moods, naturally. It wasn't just that he had said she might have enjoyed her hour or two with Vortigern, it was that she was actually starting to consider it as truth.
She shook her head, as if the simple movement might dissolve the actual thought completely, and got up from her chair.
Now, the Queen of the Old Ways had had her share of lovers over her long reign as Mistress of Magic, and not one was quite like Vortigern. He had lusted for her, she knew that, but in a different way than all the others. He had hunted her down, trapped her, and taken exactly what he wanted. And she had been afraid.
He was twisted and demented and, in some ways, everything she wanted. He had power. He had force. He was so strong . . . When his large hands had touched her skin, in the rough way, and her back had been pressed against the chilled stone, she had screamed not because she had been told to, but because a small part of her wanted to.
A part of her wanted him to hit her hard, oh, so hard. A part of her wanted his body inside hers; moving. And even still, that part of her enjoyed those rough thrusts and bittersweet kisses he had bestowed on her.
Suddenly, she was just itching to go back to him. To feel his arms, long and buff and twisted around her, pin her to the ground and ruthlessly rip off her dress, like a child might tear off rapping on a package. And maybe, knowing that he wanted her in that way, was enough to go back. Maybe knowing he would give in, bend over for her, was enough.
He could give her what she wanted, and now that Mab thought about it, maybe there was a way for them both to get what they desired.
Vortigern wanted her sex and she wanted his throne. No, not his throne, everything that came with it. Power. Oh, her lust for power was far too much. Like his lust for her. If she could help him, trade sex and magic and war, then maybe, oh, just maybe, she could get him to do something for her.
Mordred was gone - had she noticed yet that he was missing - and Merlin was safe. So far, Mab clearly had the upper hand. Except . . . except there were still men fighting over the crown.
If she were to help him win in his war, maybe he could help her. He would be king. he would have influence. Ah yes, that's what she would do. Trade him magic, trade him her body, for the Old Ways. For him to preach her as a god. Blackmail him. It was too perfect. Much to perfect.
But that was so easy. Why hadn't she thought of that before? Mab sighed, remembering she had. But she wouldn't make the same mistakes. She had Merlin this time, however useless he might be without too much magic and none of his memories. No matter, she still had him.
And, she was in contact with Loke. That was good. He wasn't against her, was he? No, Loke would never be. He was a faithful one.
Idath, might arise as a problem. Mab's eyes narrowed. He loved her; ha! He, who spent his days, locked up in Anoeth, brooding over his cauldron and absorbing himself in the past. What a weakling. Is his present really that painful? Mab scoffed. Her life was far from well - she was about to willingly give herself to the enemy - but you couldn't find her flipping through past events for solace.
No, she would move forward. She would survive. She would go to Vortigern.
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Post by himiko on Jan 24, 2008 13:56:41 GMT 9.5
Mordred regarded his companion- a tricky feat when said companion, as with himself, had no real physical form. Indeed, even the vague shadowy blur that both he and Vortigern had become familiar with had faded so as to be impossible to make out to living eyes. For the dead, it was, however, possible to sense it's presence, it's outline, and the vague sense of anticipation positively radiating from it, as the two of them waited in the throne room of Pendragon castle. Mordred's body had finally been removed, Vortigern had sent two of his guards to carry it out and dispose of it. The sword that had pierced his chest had been cleaned and returned to the armoury, Mordred didn't know precisely what had become of the rest of him.
And she didn't even come... That hurt, though Mordred was reluctant to admit it. For all his anger, and talk of revenge, part of him had hoped, had almost expected Mab to come back. All his life, she had been the only person he had ever truly cared about, and he had thought that perhaps she might at least have regretted what she had done. Come back, maybe tried to heal him. Perhaps she would have been upset, when she realised she had killed him with her actions. He'd sat for a while, visions of Mab kneeling over his form and shedding the tears that were so rarely prised from her, occupying his thoughts, up to the point where he had almost convinced himself that it was certain to happen. But it hadn't. The moments had passed, Mordred's body was gone, and Auntie Mab hadn't come.
As if sensing his gaze, his companion gave off a sense of smug satisfaction.
"I could have told you she wouldn't come. She cares nothing for you unless she can make use of you. It's rather distressing, really."
I don't care, Mordred replied defiantly, I just want revenge, that's all.
"Is that so?" He could have sworn the creature was smirking, "Well, my newly deceased friend, however much you may want revenge against Queen Mab, you're going to have to wait. Unless of course you want to float around ineffectually, before being dispersed by her magic. You're far too fresh, too close to life at the moment."
So why are we waiting here? Mordred demanded, If we can't even lay a hand on them yet, why are we hanging around in Vortigern's castle?
"For one thing, to observe him. After all, you wanted revenge on him, too, did you not? For another, one place to wait is as good as another."
What exactly are we going to do? Mordred asked, curiously. He'd always had an appreciation for violence and pain, and the idea of revenge appealed to him.
"Mordred, to understand that, you must first understand what exactly you are."
I'm a ghost, Mordred replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and the spirit was clearly stupid for not knowing. A snort of truly disdainful proportions was his response.
"Hardly. Ghosts, or spirits, go to Anoeth, and any that remain have no power over the living. You are something other, something apart."
Well, if we're not ghosts, Mordred demanded, What are we?
"You." The spirit corrected, "Not "we". I am of a similar nature to you, but far stronger, and far harder to get rid of. You're more of a smaller image of what I am, if you like. Something I created from your spirit when you died." Mordred wasn't sure he liked the idea of being weaker and subordinate to this creature. He resumed his glowering, "I can't help it," the spirit replied, in a tone that suggested he wouldn't have helped it, even if he could, "You and I were of a different nature to begin with."
So what am I, then? What is "your image"?
"At this moment? Probably as close to a ghost as you'll ever be, in this realm, at least. But not tied to life, nor to death. As time passes, you'll become stronger, less human. Magic cannot touch you- not the magic of the elemental kings, at least. There are certain spells and artefacts that can, but you needn't concern yourself with them, yet. You cannot be seen by the living, unless you choose to be, and until you grow stronger, you will be nothing to them but a voice in their minds. And therein lies the method by which you grow stronger. You can whisper into their minds, haunt their dreams, send them slowly insane, and draw your strength as they lose their's."
So what happens after I get stronger? Mordred asked impatiently. This was all very well, but somehow whispering into someone's dreams hadn't been quite the kind of revenge scenario he'd had in mind. The creature gave a patronising sigh.
"You'll be able to do more. Still based around the mind, of course, but you'll be able to confuse, to possess- only the weak and vulnerable, though, even I no longer have the power to possess an unwilling victim of any great mental strength. But that's not neccessary, once you grow stronger, you'll be able to hurt, to torture. Don't worry, my eager young friend, you'll get your revenge."
Mordred smiled inwardly to himself as images flashed through his mind. Merlin, screaming and thrashing on the floor. Vortigern, his gaze confused, his mind destroyed. Mab, lying on her bed, stretched out, her eyes closing, moaning softly- but in pain now, not in pleasure. The images stopped abruptedly, and Mordred frowned, wondering why that particular image hadn't given him quite the satisfaction and pleasure he thought it should.
Who are you, exactly? he snapped, changing the subject.
"I have no name. I was never given one," The spirit replied with a careless tone. "And you don't need to know what I truly am. For now, be content to wait."
He smirked in the direction of the former warrior. Truly, this one would make a fine tool.
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Post by Lane of Magic on Jan 28, 2008 7:25:33 GMT 9.5
She had barely had the thought, than flickered straight to Pendragon Castle, somewhat surprised at her own actions – well, completely surprised, and also bewildered by all she’d been feeling. No wonder she didn’t feel at ease as her gaze shifted around the throne room – Vortigern wasn’t there, but she felt something else, something… strange. Mab frowned, stared around, trying to determine what the source of this unease was, but if there had indeed been something, it was gone now. She took a deep breath, circled the room a couple of times, waiting, thinking.
It seemed to take forever till Vortigern finally entered the room – admittedly, he stormed in with a fairly enraged expression on his face, and looked almost surprised seeing her there.
“Madam… you’ve come back.” He stared at her impassively, not moving an inch from where he was currently stading, and for a moment, Mab wondered if he would still want her help, or her – she snarled inwardly as the thought crossed her mind.
“I have,” Mab nodded slowly. She hadn’t forgotten the last time she was here, the way he managed to leave her without a reply, and just how much she hated him for it. But this was different – he needed her this time, or they needed each other, which wasn’t exactly an ideal situation but not a bad one either, if she were to be completely honest.
“And I’ve… thought of what you said about keeping that alliance.” She’d tried to sound neutral, but the sounds that left her lips were more whispery than usual.
“And?” Mab surveyed him carefully, noticed the glint in his eyes as he already knew what the answer would be.
“And I might help you…” she replied, turning away from Vortigern, as he advanced towards her – even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel his piercing gaze, and she had no doubt anymore that he still wanted her. Only trouble this time was, part of her was also screaming for his touch already… Mab frowned and almost visibly shook her head, focusing on how to make the best of all this. “…In exchange for a few things, of course,” she finished and Vortigern smiled.
“I didn’t expect you’d want to help me out of the goodness of your heart. So what… payment do you require?” Her head snapped back at him, her eyes narrowed into a warning glare.
“You know very well what I want.” Vortigern raised an eyebrow, unable or simply unwilling to suppress a smirk. Feeling the need to be more specific, before he had the chance to ask her some other question she did not want to answer, she continued, “To sweep out all Christians and bring the people back to the Old Ways.” If Mab was interested in winning her war, Vortigern most definitely was in winning his – the sooner, the better.
“Hm, I see…” He considered this briefly, then spoke again. “Very well. It might take a while, I’m sure you realise, but I’ll see to it once this throne issue is settled.” She knew he would have much more power as king, but at the same time he would have much less need to keep whatever alliance they might have, and Mab did not want to risk that.
“I want you to start right away,” she said, but Vortigern shook his head.
“No.” It was a such a simple answer, one which infuriated her more than anything.
“You won’t?” Mab growled, her eyes blazing at the candid refusal.
“I can’t,” Vortigern corrected smoothly. And indeed, there wasn’t that much he could do yet, not while some of Arthur’s former men were beginning to ask questions, but he decided there was no need to justify his answer – not yet, anyway. He leaned towards her, smirking, “You really don’t trust me, do you?” There was definitely a teasing undertone to his voice, as he said the words – he knew full well she didn’t, but he liked that. It surely made things more interesting, more… challenging.
“Of course not,” Mab replied, almost amused at the sheer absurdity. She knew he was close enough to feel her breath – they were almost touching by now, and she couldn’t really deny nor disguise the way she felt just from being so close to him, but she’d be damned if she were the one to give in… So she brushed her cheek against his, and whispered in his ear, “Never…”
“Might there be a way to change that? Anything I could do?…” There were quite a few thoughts that were already crossing her mind – maybe some were very similar to his, much as Mab hated to admit even to herself, but then she remembered something else and looked up at him, her eyes narrowed, sparkling with interest.
“Tell me who helped you hide Mordred from me,” she replied suddenly. “We could start from there, if we’re to make this alliance last.”
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Post by Libitine on Jan 31, 2008 20:14:38 GMT 9.5
Frik held his breath as Merlin recited the incantation. Weeks of teaching, weeks of taking him all the way back to day one, and he was hardly making decent progress. It was tiring, and Mab wouldn't 'magically' be blessed with patience or understanding over night.
The gnome nodded gently through the first bit of reciting, but then Merlin went horribly wrong and he had to stop him. "No, no, no Master Merlin, that's no it." He said sternly. Correcting the bumbling wizard for what he hoped was the last time with this particular incantation, Frik returned to his brooding.
Yes, it was good that he was teaching Merlin because it did present him with something worthwhile to do with his time, but the problem was, it wasn't something he wanted to be doing. Who would want to reteach an old wizard new tricks? Could old wizards even learn new tricks?
Frik jumped backward as the goblet Merlin was trying to fill with water turned into a frog. He had to give him the credit, that would have been a very good spell, but Frik was looking for something very simple, not so complicated as turning water into frogs.
"Try again, Master Merlin." The gnome said tiredly, pointing to the incantation on the text.
He knew, also, how hard Merlin was trying to please the unpleaseable Queen of the Old Ways. Frik glanced to his left and then to his right. Where was she anyways? He shrugged. She was off doing something; he would probably never know what. She never told him anything. In Merlin's case, though, Frik did think it admirable that he would go to such lengths to make her happy. He certainly had to chalk it up to luck that the spell Mab had preformed left him without his memory. What else could it be but luck? And how would things be different if Merlin hadn't been put under the spell?
Frik shuddered at the thought. Firstly, he figured in some way or another, Mab would be in serious trouble. It was an awful thing to think of one's mistress but the fact of the matter is, Merlin had saved her arse more than once since what seemed his permanent arrival at the castle.
That was another thing; how long did Mab think she could keep him around? Merlin was bound to get his memory back (Idath had said so, hadn't he?) and at that point he will either be so filled with shock he will leave or with how quickly he was excelling in the realm of magic he might go and do something far worse. He just hoped in the end, the good wizard forgot about his troubles with Mab and did what was right.
Such philosophies and notions were not ones to adapt when working for Mab for so long and Frik would not have dared to think such a thing whilst she was around, but it was true. If Merlin did what was right in the long run, right for everybody, he would be happy. Mab would get over it eventually, she always does. Just a good bit and broken crystal will cure her.
Merlin began on his incantation for the umpteenth time and Frik refrained from rolling his eyes. It was so simple! To his greatest relief, the goblet began to fill itself with water. The gnome smiled warmly and patted Merlin on the back.
"Good show Master Merlin. I knew you could do it. I have always had faith it you." He said. "Let us move to the next spell. Won't her Majesty be proud?"
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OCC: I did not know I could write Frik for that long . . . O____O
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Post by himiko on Feb 2, 2008 15:21:20 GMT 9.5
Right, well, I managed to force out a post, don't blame me if it's bad. I was bribed, I tell ye.
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Vortigern frowned. Of all the questions she had to ask him. Well, he was damned if he was going to admit he had no real idea who this creature had been. Attempting to change tactics, he leaned in even closer to her and whispered smoothly.
"Surely there must be something... more, that you can think of?" Mab raised an eyebrow, took a step backwards and smiled coldly at him.
"Not unless you answer me." She tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, as he desperately tried to think of an answer that wouldn't make him look like a fool
"It matters little," he replied sharply, "Our alliance was temporary, and is now severed." Mab's eyes narrowed, and her face grew more impatient. Moving backwards, she seated herself on his throne, watching in amusement as his eyes narrowed.
"As I said, we will start from there. I should warn you, you're not making a good start. I'm waiting..." Vortigern growled.
"Remember, woman, you need this alliance far more than I do. Perhaps you should consider that before you start taking too many liberties with my own patience." Mab's gaze grew angrier. He was right, of course. He might well win this war without her help. She, on the other hand, had no other options until Merlin's condition improved, and even then, it would take a lot of time and work. However, she knew that whatever Vortigern might say, he was still the paranoid man he had been before his death, and that he would value her alliance rather than her wrath far more than he was about to let on. Not to mention, he wanted her, his actions had made that abundantly clear. It wasn't as strong a bargain as Mab usually liked to find herself in, but it was something.
"You have agreed to the alliance, Vortigern, and I see no reason for you not to answer my question if your alliance is indeed over." Vortigern scowled again.
"It wasn't human," he replied bluntly, "It never showed it's true form. It sought me out." Mab raised an eyebrow, and couldn't help but sneer scornfully.
"You have no idea what it was," she guessed, correctly, earning yet another glare from the soon to be king, "Some advice, Vortigern. I have come to expect stupidity of mortals. I've certainly had experience of your own. Do not waste my time by attempting to hide it."
"Well, then," Vortigern replied snappily, "Why don't you enlighten me as to what it was, Queen of Magic?"
She regarded him coolly, "With the vague description you gave me, Vortigern, there are almost infinite possibilities as to it's identity." She had to admit, she was curious as to precisely what this creature was, but she had far more pressing concerns on her hands than a creature that was no longer here. Such as the Old Ways.
"I believe," Vortigern replied, approaching her once again, "That you owe me a question now. After all, you are not the only one who lacks trust."
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Post by Lane of Magic on Feb 5, 2008 22:50:01 GMT 9.5
Any other time, Mab might have cut Vortigern off and snapped that she didn’t owe him anything – she definitely had the impulse when she heard him. Instead, however, she kept listening, and let a smirk play on her face.
“I owe you a question… do I now?” she snorted, waited for him to come closer, only to make herself more comfortable on his throne. If it annoyed him, he didn’t show it, just leaned down, placing his hands on both arm-rests, his eyes locked on hers.
“Quid pro quo, Mab.” She remained quiet for a few moments, then nodded.
“Ask me, then… the question.”
“Let’s suppose everything goes smoothly and you help me get the throne without much difficulty. I will use the power I have as king and restore your religion, just as you wished.” He was still close enough to notice Mab’s eyes lit up at the very thought of seeing the Old Ways thrive again, even if she didn’t realise it. “But how do I know you won’t dispose of me as soon as it’s done and your fairy world is safe again?”
“You don’t,” Mab replied frankly, realising too late that this was not among the best answers she could give. She cursed herself for having allowed a few moments of amusement at his expense cause her to become a tad too confident – enough to remind him just how much he could indeed trust her. Without much delay, Mab leaned forward, casually resting her hand on his as she did so, making sure he remained just where he was.
“But I thought you liked taking risks?…” she whispered, a teasing smile pulling on one corner of her mouth as she leaned towards him more. It was, obviously, Mab’s turn to try to at least distract him, but it failed just as miserably as Vortigern’s attempt had, a bit earlier.
“Not unnecessary ones, milady,” he whispered in return, tracing her jaw with his fingers as he pulled back, even though it would have been so easy not to. He knew she wanted him, he had guessed it correctly from the start, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that lust alone would be enough to make Mab hesitate to kill him the moment the opportunity arose.
“So you’ll have to do better than this,” Vortigern said, to her dismay. Mab growled, clenching her fists at the insolence in both his voice and the statement itself, then stood up and turned around to leave, already regretting having ever come here again just to end up boiling with rage - whether it was because of his natural talent of grating on her nerves, or the ease with which he’d dismissed her, it didn’t matter anymore.
“Your word would be enough,” Vortigern called after her, before she could vanish back to the Land of Magic.
“Would it?” she smiled a glacial smile.
“It would be a good start.” Mab frowned, gritting her teeth. Vortigern was practically asking her to swear she would not go against him as soon as he wasn’t of such vital use to her anymore. Quite a nice insurance policy this was – it would mean putting everything behind and forgetting any plans of revenge she might still have, for what he’d done to her. Well, he certainly considered it revenge for what she’d done to him, but somehow this was not really the way Mab saw things. She grimaced slightly, taking a moment to ponder all this. But the fact remained: if she did make this one promise, she would be so much closer to winning everything, and in the end winning was what mattered most. If this was the way to lead mortals back to the Old Ways, then she would take it.
“I give you my word, Vortigern,” she forced out the words, “I won’t do anything against you, as long as you keep your promises. Wipe out the new religion, do whatever you want with its followers, but make sure it won’t affect the worshippers of the Old Ways in the least.” Mab knew these requests needed something more than her support in what seemed like a half-won war already, so she added, “Do all that, and I’ll see to it that you don’t have to worry about losing the crown again.”
“I help you, you help me, is it?” he asked when they were again facing each other, neither agreeing nor refusing to carry out her demands. Mab arched an eyebrow, smiled again.
“Quid pro quo, Vortigern,” she replied sweetly.
“Very well, you’ve made it perfectly clear what you expect in exchange for this alliance. And since you’re so eager to get started, tell me, how exactly are you going to help me defeat Cornwall?” Mab realised she hadn’t really thought of any particular plan – she had come there without much thought, but, of course, she would not admit that to him, especially now.
“I’m waiting…” Vortigern echoed her own words, smirking.
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Post by Crysta on Feb 10, 2008 9:25:11 GMT 9.5
Happy Birthday, Lane!!! ------------------------------------------------------------- There was a long pause in which the sovereign and the soon to be sovereign stared at each other in absolute silence. Mab's face was frozen as she tried to think of an answer. It was not the lack of what to say that pushed her to the corner. On the contrary, there were infinite possibilities and ways to help Vortigern win. But she couldn't just begin reciting them all before him as if it was some sort of stock list. If she does that, he'll immediately suspect that she came there out of impulse, without a former thought, desperate for an alliance. It'll give him more power over her, and it'll also give him more reasons to mock her. No, she needs time to think over a plan, to plot her course of actions, before she'll say anything. Vortigern's smirk changed into an irritated expectation and his eyebrow quirked up, as if saying 'I am waiting. Stop wasting my time.' Mab raised her chin arrogantly "I have my means." she said coldly. It was clear, that this was not the answer Vortigern waited for, for so long (technically, it was only a couple of minutes, but for a persona like Vortigern, a couple of minutes are a long time. And Mab just made him wait a couple of minutes too long). He took a deep, angry breath and nodded with irritation. "You have your means…" he repeated her words slowly, as if tasting them on his tongue. He began to circle the queen in a cautious step, head down looking at the floor and hands put together behind his back He looked like a man deep in thoughts. Once he finished a full circle he turned to Mab and looked up at her "What are those means?" "Magic, of course." - came an additional vague answer. Mab knew that Vortigern will never be satisfied until he'll get a straight answer, and then he'll decide whether to like it or not. But she had no answer to give him for now. Somehow, she will have to make him believe he got a straight answer. It shouldn't be too hard; she had been tricking mortals ever since they came into existence. But this one was not an ordinary mortal.Vortigern gritted his teeth in vexation. She didn't make it easy on him at all. Fine, then. He will coax the answer out of this fairy word by word, until it'll form a sentence he'll be content with, if he needs to "And just how do you intend to use it to help me?" For Mab this already felt like an interrogation. Her fists clenched and she snapped "Just know that I will!" she took a few angry steps towards Vortigern "I am the Queen of Magic! That should be enough guarantee that my help will suffice." In the same manner as Mab, he took his steps to close the distance between them. He leaned close and hissed the words aggressively to her face "But how will I know that you are indeed helping me, if I don't know what that help is? After all, you can just make me believe that you are helping me, and I, like the last fool, should believe you?!" Mab had to resist the urge to hiss back - You are a last fool! Instead, she regained her royal composure "The word of the Queen of the Old Ways must not be doubted, Vortigern." Her words were arrogantly cold, but inside she boiled with fury. Vortigern's eyes glared intensely into Mab's, reflecting the fury she felt "I learned to doubt it a long time ago, Mab. I won't let myself be tricked again. And most important, I won't let myself be killed – again." There was another long pause with another dead silence. Mab and Vortigern continued to glare at each other as if hoping to burn each other with their look alone. Then all of the sudden Mab smiled and took a few steps back "Your habit to suspect everyone and everything clouds your better judgment, Vortigern." The queen's voice was amused, "Didn't I just give you my word that I won't turn against you?" Vortigern straightened himself up, and at least on the outside he looked as if he regained his calmness, but his voice was still irritated "That you did, Madam. But I am not underestimating your abilities to twist your words." "You said that my word is enough for you!" "For a start, yes." he nodded "But if you think that you gained my blind trust, madam, you are gravely mistaken." He turned away from her and went towards his throne. He sat on it as if thinking that it'll give more authority to his words "Now will you answer my question or not?!" A self satisfied half smile adorned Mab's face, and her eyes glimmered in cold mischievousness as she knew what effect her next words will have on Vortigern "I owed you only one question. And I answered one question. I don't think you forgot how to count, have you?" Her smile turned into a triumphant smirk when she saw that the effect was exactly what she expected it to be. Vortigern looked as if he was boiling. Yes, by saying those words she might have lost a very beneficial alliance. But seeing Vortigern so furious from her teasing was worth it, oh so worth it. Vortigern slammed his fist on the arm of his throne and rose to his feet "You don't think…" he spat and came back threateningly towards her. Naturally, Mab was unimpressed by the so called visual intimidation "You know what I think, Madam?" he narrowed his eyes and looked carefully at her face, taking his time before continuing "I think that you refuse to answer not because you want to keep me in the dark. It's because you are in the dark yourself." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, as if mockingly promising to keep this as a secret only between them "You don't know yourself what possible use you can be to me." "Is your mind playing tricks on you again, Vortigern?" she hoped that the indifferent way in which she spoke, hid the rage at the realization that he managed to read her like an open book. Vortigern shook his head "Oh, I don't think so. I see rather clearly now." He rubbed his chin, looking honestly confused "Why did you come here, Mab?" there was pure curiosity in his eyes now. This wasn't going well, but she will be damned if she'll tell him the whole truth "I came to offer you an alliance - one that you are in danger to lose any moment!" "And why would it be such a great loss, if it is of no use to me?" suddenly, Vortigerns eyes brightened with the light of understanding "Or could it be, that I just misunderstood your offer?" Mab's eyes widened in a shocked outrage, as she realized the hidden meaning behind Vortigern's statement - it was nothing in his words, neither it was in his face which he kept absolutely serious. It was in the way he looked her up as he spoke, and the way he emphasized the word 'offer'. Mab's reaction was enough confirmation for Vortigern that he was right, his lips quirked in a self satisfied half smile. He took a step towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist. A slap enforced with magic took him rather by surprise, and he staggered a couple of steps back. "How dare you?!" Mab growled. Yes, she planned to strengthen their alliance by becoming Vortigern's lover, but he made it sound as if she came to offer him her services as a common whore! She was the Fairy Queen, Mistress of Air and Darkness! She will not be treated as a common whore.
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Post by Incapability on Feb 15, 2008 6:15:59 GMT 9.5
Vortigern's eyes went wide with mock hurt and surprise. "What, Mab, such harsh feelings after all? Why, I had no idea ..." His hand grasped his heart and his features contorted.
Mab snarled. "Spare me the drama. And be assured that I will think very thoroughly about whether or not this alliance will still come to pass." And with this, she prepared to disappear and save some last shreds of her dignity.
Her stylish departure was, however, thoughtlessly interrupted by a guard bursting into the throne room and, between trying to breathe and trying not to faint at the sight of the fairly displeased king (and Fairy Queen), squeezing out: "Majesty, the prisoner, he ... he ..."
"What's all this stuttering about, man?", Vortigern bellowed. "Speak up if you like your head where it is." The guard gulped once more but, in the face of impending doom, regained some sort of composure. "Milord, there is throuble with our Guest Downstairs. He - "
The sight of Vortigern's face swelling bright red with anger would have reduced the best men to tears, and the guard continued in a voice that made it quite obvious how close he was to wetting his uniform: "He started banging his head against the wall, and he said he won't stop unless we let him talk to the wizard."
Vortigern was sorely tempted to sort the matter with a simple 'Let him bang, then. One less problem to take care of', but he knew that Arthur's men would be pitching their tents in Gorlois' camp faster than lightning if the daily procedure of parading Arthur in the distance, engaged in a mock discussion, was not kept up. "Can't you tie him up any tigher?" The guard silently shook his head. The old king sighed. "Oh very well then. Get him here."
Behind him, a smile was creeping onto Mab's face. The balance had just shifted considerably into her favour.
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*Sorry for this being stupid*
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