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Post by himiko on Feb 20, 2008 9:54:19 GMT 9.5
As the guard darted out of the throne room, Vortigern turned back to Mab, an impatient look on his face, which only grew when the Queen of the Old Ways made no effort to hide her smug expression.
"Well?" he snapped, "Are you going to fetch your wizard or not?" Mab raised an eyebrow. Truth be told, her first reaction to the idea of bringing Merlin here had not been a positive one- the gods knew he was probably traumatised enough from the last time, and some part of her wanted to be able to refuse Vortigern's requests as he had done to hers before. But, once she had thought it through a little more carefully, a number of other factors had occured to her. Merlin HAD met Arthur before his death- very soon before, in fact. Perhaps talking to the man would help to regain some of his memories, even a scant few. And if she and Vortigern simply refused each other's demands outright, then this alliance might as well not exist for all the good it would do her.
Not to mention, she thought, allowing her smile to widen, her eyebrow to raise a fraction higher, making Vortigern ask for HER help, instead of the other way round, would be very satisfying indeed.
"Why would I want to bring Merlin here?" she asked Vortigern, "The last time I did that, you wanted to hold him prisoner, to use him as material in an exchange. Why would I allow him to come back here, simply to benefit you?" Vortigern rolled his eyes.
"Maternal feelings, Mab? How sweet." His tone was evidently meant to be mocking, but the irritation in it came across clearly, "Need I remind you that this supposed alliance was your idea?"
"And now you need something from me," Mab replied, sweetly, "So perhaps you should be considering what precisely you can do to make it worthwhile for me to bring Merlin here. How exactly you intend to help me. What use you can be to me." Vortigern narrowed his eyes as Mab fired his earlier words back at him.
"I have already told you," Vortigern replied, "Your plans are impractical. I cannot start "bringing people back to your Old Ways" before I get the throne. Not whilst a good portion of my army are Christians."
"Christians they may be," Mab replied bluntly, "But not like the fanatical Christians in Gorlois's army, else they would have left, or tried to, when you and Arthur supposedly made an alliance. They follow the man, not neccessarily the religion, and if they will leave you because of the Old Ways, they will flee your army in droves if that man splatters his brains across your dungeon floor." The door opened, interrupting their conversation, and Mab watched as the young man that she remembered from the army camp was flung onto the floor. A number of large bruises had formed on his head, he was bound, and somewhat more gaunt and bedraggled looking than the last time Mab had seen him, but otherwise, much the same. He stared up at the two figures standing before him, his eyes widening as his gaze fell on Mab. She stared down at him, expressionless, regarding him thoughtfully behind her gaze. Merlin hadn't known him that well, he had known the Merlin of a future that would never come to be. Still, it was something...
"Where's Merlin?" Arthur demanded suddenly, "What have you done to him? I want to speak to him?" Giving a disdainful sniff, Mab ignored the young would-be ruler, and turned back to face Vortigern.
"Like I said," she repeated, deliberately, "I will require something from you, and if you won't begin reinstating the Old Ways, then I suggest you come up with a useful alternative very quickly, else it seems we shall both be forced to go without."
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Post by Lane of Magic on Feb 25, 2008 20:58:13 GMT 9.5
Vortigern didn’t like having someone else demand that he do something, any more than Mab did, and the more she spoke, the more he cursed inwardly the fact that he needed her help in this. He watched her thoughtfully for a moment, but surprisingly enough, when he spoke again it wasn’t exactly irritation in his voice.
“Oh, I’m sure neither of us would want to be forced to go without,” he mused, a rather playful smirk pulling on one corner of his mouth. If Mab found it annoying or amusing, she certainly didn’t let anything show, just stared at him, slowly beginning to lose her patience.
“You’d better not waste any more time, or…” she trailed off, shrugging.
“Or?” Vortigern challenged, as they both continued to ignore the man whom the guards had brought.
“…Or there will be no alliance.” Perhaps rolling her eyes and sighing, before finishing the sentence, was not the best way to go about this, and much as Mab was chuckling inwardly – she had no real intention to deny him her help in the end, but she truly enjoyed teasing him – Vortigern’s temper flared.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” She remained just as calm, as he glared furiously, the sweet smile on her face contrasting with the cold patronizing tone in her voice.
“Merely a fact. And whatever you decide to do had better consist of facts also; in case you do think of something, of course.”
“You simply won’t bring that damned wizard here…” Vortigern muttered through gritted teeth, “Very well.” He didn’t wait for any reply from Mab this time, just turned around towards the guards flanking Arthur. “Get him out of here and cut his throat.”
“What…” Mab began, the words dying in her throat, frowned, as she watched the guards take the man away. She looked at Vortigern questioningly, and was all the more perplexed to see him shrug nonchalantly.
“We couldn’t agree on what to do about him. He’s no longer a problem,” he explained, smiling serenely, his earlier rage seemingly gone. “And he never will be one for you – didn’t you ask me to kill him in the first place? Well, he’s certainly not going to actively do anything to spread out the new religion you so fear.” He watched her considerably paler complexion, his own expression darkening now that he gave his actions a thought, but he couldn’t just change his mind, even though removing the source of their initial disagreement suddenly didn’t seem such a good idea. He wasn’t going to let her know that, naturally, and besides, she didn’t have the upper hand anymore – even if, truth be told, neither of them did. But it wasn’t something Vortigern wanted to think about.
“What, is there something wrong, Mab?” She regarded him intently, wondering inwardly whether he was stupid enough to believe everything he’d just said.
“I may have asked you to kill him, Vortigern, and I certainly want him dead, but this is the worst possible time for that.” It was certainly something she never would have imagined saying, but apparently he didn’t realise what consequences there would be, if he randomly had Arthur killed.
“Why, because by doing so his men will now join Cornwall regardless if they follow the religion or the man? Well, you knew that would happen anyway, if you didn’t bring Merlin, and it didn’t seem to matter that much at the time. Perhaps it really doesn’t matter, and you’ll just work your magic…” He couldn’t – didn’t even want to – suppress the sarcasm in his voice as he said the last words.
“You really have no idea what you’ve just done…” Mab shook her head in dismay at his sudden composure, and reckoned that perhaps trying to be reasonable in the first place would have been better than just wanting to corner him at any cost, however charming he might look when drove at wit’s end, trying to find a solution. Not that she would personally find him charming in any way, of course – she just glared all the more.
For his part, Vortigern knew he had already lost those men, whether he kept Arthur alive or not – either way, it would have been only a matter of time, before something like this happened. Naturally, Vortigern had hoped he would manage to take the throne first, and that seemed somewhat unlikely at this point – unless they managed to get to an accord before it was indeed too late.
“I’ve just ordered my guards to kill your enemy. It’s a fact – you can’t argue with that: one less enemy to worry about. Of course, it might cost me the throne, and you… I think you’ll have more to lose on the long run, if that man dies.” Mab let out a snarl – he had been smart enough to turn things in his favour, but she had no doubt he was stupid enough to go ahead with this, even if it meant they could lose everything. Question was, could she stand there and do nothing, when she obviously had so much more to lose? Mab sighed, gritted her teeth, already knowing the answer to that, deep down – she stared a few more moments, before finally speaking.
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Post by himiko on Feb 29, 2008 12:43:59 GMT 9.5
"I have more to lose?" she asked, hoping that she had infused the question with the appropriate amount of scorn. Of course she had more to lose, she couldn't deny it outright, but it seemed that this would be the time to practice her dancing around the truth skills. She couldn't allow herself to be manipulated into helplessness by Vortigern again, more than that, she wouldn't. She resigned herself to the fact that she would have to bring Merlin there in the end, but she was damned if she wouldn't claw back some of her dignity beforehand.
"Vortigern," she said, in a slow voice, as though she were explaining something to a deeply stupid child, "Kill Arthur, and half your army will flee and join Gorlois. Presumably you understand the basics of mathematics- half of your army gone, and added to Gorlois's forces, will far outstrip your remaining troops."
"I've won battles before against such odds," Vortigern replied coldly, "I suggest you leave the matters of battle to those who actually fight them." Mab's eyes flashed with utter fury, and in seconds, her magic had pulled Vortigern's sword from his scabbard and pointed it at his throat.
"My battles, Vortigern, are every bit as real as yours. One of my aspects is a goddess of war, lest you forget," she informed him coldly, "Simply because my weapons are of magic rather than steel, do not presume that I cannot slit your throat with them." And with that, she flung the sword away, so that it embedded itself in the back of Vortigern's throne. Glancing back to Vortigern's face, she noted with slight disappointment, but no surprise, that there was no fear in his expression, but he did look somewhat less dismissive, which, she supposed, was something.
She continued, in a calmer voice, "As I was saying, you may well have won such battles in the past, Vortigern, but how long has it been? When you were king, there was no army that could outmatch yours. So, fifteen years? A lot can change in fifteen years, Vortigern, a lot HAS changed. You're past your prime, you are ageing, your reflexes and strength are impressive enough for a mortal, but make no mistake, they have dwindled. You didn't fear death, but you've struggled hard enough to cling to life and not go back to it." She paused for breath, and looked at Vortigern. He raised an eyebrow.
"What's your point?"
"My point is that if Gorlois wins this battle- which, with extra soldiers, and no help for you from me, he will, I think- you really think he wouldn't have you executed at the first chance he gets? Lose your throne, your country, and your life, simply because of your pride? You're foolish, Vortigern, but not that foolish."
"And what is your refusal to help me motivated by, if not pride, Mab?" Vortigern asked scornfully, not at all appreciating the tone her words were taking, "Pride and an attempt to make this conversation go your way. You stand to lose..."
"I stand to lose a great deal, yes, but I have stood to lose a great deal for centuries now, if you fail me, it won't be the first time I've had to search for an alternative plan. And if my time will be running out, I will still have a damn sight more than you will. Gorlois won't be able to put my head on a block, even if he tried."
Vortigern raised an eyebrow, and Mab guessed that was all the recognition of her words that she would get, "Madam, I've heard it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, but seeing as you want me to bring back your old ways, but don't want me to kill this Christian, I suggest you enlighten me as to precisely what it is you want, else my patience will run out, I WILL have him killed, and then..." he shrugged, "We will both have to hope your predictions don't come true, won't we?"
Mab considered this for a moment, before speaking slowly, "You tax the people in the areas you currently hold, do you not?"
"Yes," Vortigern replied suspiciously, "Why?"
"Reduce the taxes, and stop persecuting pagans for not paying them. You have more than enough to fund this campaign, and with the current taxes, no-one can pay them. You've massacred countless pagans because they can't afford to pay them. I care not what you do to the Christians, tax them all you like, kill them if you wish, but leave the pagans in your land." Vortigern growled.
"You suggest I essentially give your followers free reign not to pay taxes? Are you mad, woman?"
"I am suggesting, Vortigern, that if you will not yet begin openly supporting paganism until after you get the crown, you will at least restrain yourself from killing my followers for the time being. Agree to that, and I will bring Merlin here, you don't have to cut the idiot's throat, and your army remains intact." Vortigern considered for a moment, looking somewhat displeased.
"I'm not lowering the taxes," he replied, "I may turn a blind eye to the pagans who don't pay it in full. For a while. A very short while, Madam, so you might want to ensure that your help in this war is exceedingly prompt," Mab smiled smugly. Vortigern watched her for a moment, "I do hope you make this worth my while, my lady, I wouldn't want to have to single out the pagans for persecution if you don't." Mab glared at him, and vanished with a flicker.
---
"Merlin?" The wizard turned in surprise as she spoke, and smiled at her. Mab sat down beside him, wondering how to put this.
"I was wondering, Merlin," she began, "Have you remembered anything, yet?" Merlin shook his head sadly, almost apologetically.
"Nothing new," he muttered, glancing up at her as if to attempt to see her reaction. Mab looked thoughtful for a moment, but not particularly disappointed.
"You know Vortigern now, of course," she began, and Merlin nodded with a shudder. Yes, he'd met Vortigern, and it hadn't been pleasant, all things considered. Mab went on, "He has a prisoner. A man named Arthur. You used to know him, before you...died..." Only the briefest hesitation in her words, Mab noted, and her voice was almost steady. Perhaps she was growing used to Merlin's new state. Blinking, Mab forced herself back to reality for a moment, "Anyway, he's demanding to speak to you. I thought it might help you remember."
"It'll mean going back there?" Merlin asked, looking unhappy at the thought. Mab nodded, talking on swiftly.
"Yes, but I swear, you won't get hurt. You won't have to speak to Vortigern, he doesn't want you, and I'll stay with you." Merlin looked at her nervously. He wasn't happy about it, but if Mab thought it was a good idea, maybe she was right. Uncertainly, he gripped her hand, and Mab whisked the two of them back to Vortigern's castle, looking around and noting with some relief that Arthur had been dragged back into the room, beaten and bloodied, but with his throat still wholly intact. He looked up at the flash, and his eyes widened at the sight of his old friend.
"Merlin!" he cried out joyfully to the wizard.
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Post by Incapability on Mar 3, 2008 6:06:19 GMT 9.5
"Merlin!" he cried again, and stumbled towards the wizard, who hastily stepped back and shot Mab a puzzled look. Arthur didn't seem to notice, because he took another shaky step before his guards grabbed him by his elbows, partly to keep him from getting away, and partly to keep him from falling and breaking his neck.
"Hello", Merlin murmured with an unsure glance towards the broken king. And finally, the penny dropped and the beaten face fell. "Merlin, whatever is the matter with you?" His eyes wandered to and fro between his old mentor and the woman he had been taught to hate (and, subconsciously, to fear) by the very same man, to and fro between those two people who were standing so close that it seemed as though Merlin was clinging to her like she were his life-saving anchor.
"What is she doing here? Merlin, what are you doing here, with her?" "I ... I, um ..." and he helplessly glanced in Mab's direction.
She felt her mind reeling with possibilities. The king was looking towards Merlin for help, and Merlin, well, he was clinging to her like a lost puppy. Arthur. Young, strong, charismatic. The born leader. With him leading an army, all of Britain would soon be united. And his men were loyal. Not to whomever he bent his knee to, but to him. If she could be subtle enough, the possibilities were endless.
"Talk to Arthur, Merlin. He has been looking forward to seeing you so much. Why don't you ask him how he's been doing? Be a good boy and practice your conversational skills."
And while Merlin walked to Arthur with an unsure smile and the odd glance back over his shoulder, Mab stepped back into the shadows, and smiled.
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Post by Lane of Magic on Mar 5, 2008 5:02:13 GMT 9.5
She was perhaps too caught up in her inner thoughts, and thus was almost startled to feel Vortugern’s hand on her shoulder.
“I’m rather surprised you’ve brought your wizard here so soon. I see you didn’t waste any time… my goddess of war,” he whispered in her ear, while Merlin was looking at Arthur as uncertain as ever, trying to think of something to say without sounding as uncomfortable as he felt.
“Of course I didn’t – it’ll prove useful… for both of us,” Mab replied, unable to suppress the smile on her face, as she looked at him. The fact that it could turn out more useful for her, rather than him, was beside the point. Vortigern was intrigued by her sudden change of attitude, and decided to push the matter further, see how this would evolve – there certainly wasn’t anything entertaining in watching a beaten man – who was once a contender to the throne – exchange banter with a memory-less wizard.
“So that is why you didn’t need any time to think it over?…” Mab raised an eyebrow, threw him a questioning look.
“Should I have?”
“Let’s just say, I wouldn’t have exactly minded it, if we were to… bargain about it?” Surprisingly enough, the smirk on Vortigern’s face failed to make her boil with anger this time. She narrowed her eyes, but they were still glittering and she couldn’t erase the smirk on her face, perhaps she didn’t even try to – whether it was because of her generally good mood at the thought that Merlin might get some memories back and there was the possibility that she get a rather decent king to go with that, or simply because she felt like playing along, for whatever reason.
“I can see why you’d say that... However, seeing as we both knew I would most likely bring Merlin here eventually, pondering the matter any longer would only have been an excuse… and an unnecessary waste of time,” Mab pointed out, and Vortigern nodded in agreement, but continued nonetheless.
“Unnecessary maybe, but surely not unpleasa…”
“Why has he been beaten up so badly?” Merlin broke into their conversation, causing them both to stare at him, then briefly exchange some rather puzzled looks. For her part, Mab couldn’t care less of how Arthur was being treated – he was a Christian, and he was her enemy, at least for the time being. Even if by some miracle his attitude towards the Old Ways changed, he would never see her as anything but the dangerous arch creature the Merlin in the future he’d come from had described her as – which admittedly, she was, if that was what it took to win. She noticed Vortigern’s expression was almost one of amusement by now – Arthur was, after all, his prisoner, why would he give him any special treatment? Although neither understood very well Merlin’s sudden concern for a man he didn’t even knew, Mab was the one to try give him an explanation of sorts eventually.
“Merlin, Vortigern didn’t do anything to him – apparently, Arthur started smashing his head against the wall, all by himself.” She was beginning to wonder whether the boy was also in danger of losing his mind, as she heard herself – it surely wouldn’t have been the first in his family, although it didn’t quite fit in with what she had in mind for him.
“Because you wouldn’t have listened to me otherwise! It was the only way to make you bring Merlin to me!“ Arthur cried, a touch of helplessness in his eyes as he watched the confused wizard. “Oh, God, what did you do to him? He doesn’t even seem to know who I am anymore!”
Replying that she had only brought about Merlin’s death, and returned him to life later, but wasn’t quick enough and had thus caused him to lose his memory didn’t really seem as the best answer Mab could think of. She stared blankly at Arthur, inwardly thinking that having brought Merlin here might not have been one of her best ideas, if the boy kept indirectly reminding him he had died, and not much else apart from that.
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Post by himiko on Mar 8, 2008 15:33:48 GMT 9.5
Arthur stared at Merlin, his brain still trying to process all that was happening, unwillingly recalling Mordred's words, that Merlin had gone mad. Arthur had thought the boy trying to goad him, to wind him up. But doubts had nagged at the back of his mind- Merlin had left his camp just before Vortigern's attack, vanished off to God knows where, and now here he was, plainly with no memory of Arthur, staring at Queen Mab with a desperate, almost childlike expression on his face, as though pleading for her help. Arthur turned his glare back to Mab, whom he was was firmly convinced was to blame for this. After all, Merlin had left her, hadn't he, and now he was conveniently back under her control. Had she hurt him, threatened him in some way?
Since Mab seemed to be ignoring his question, he turned back to face Merlin, "Merlin," he said urgently, eyes boring into his old friend's, hoping for some response, "What has she done to you? Has she hurt you? Tell me, please!" Merlin blinked in surprise at the words, and shook his head.
"No," he said, sounding rather distressed, and drawing back closer to Mab, "She didn't hurt me, she saved me!" Arthur blinked in surprise at the words, and was even more surprised when Mab stepped forward, put a hand on her son's arm, gave him what almost appeared to be a genuine smile. Surely this didn't fit with the image that he had been brought up with- Mab as an evil, uncaring creature, and she and Merlin at war. And he HAD been at war with her, before he lost his memory, hadn't he? He had come to Arthur for that precise reason. It had been just as it had been back in Arthur's time...
The former/future king sighed. He knew that he was just lying to himself by thinking such things. It hadn't been just like before. This Merlin, though he had known him, was not the Merlin from the future, not the man who had tutored and advised him, he had barely known Arthur. He had gone to him because he had believed he would be a good king, and because, for whatever reason, he had been angry with Mab. But anger had been all it was. He had joined her, then left her again, and even Arthur had seen that whatever Merlin felt for Mab, it wasn't the all consuming need to destroy her that his future self had shown. It was hesitant, almost reluctant, a flare of anger, but there seemed to have been something beneath it despite it all. And now, here they stood, and Merlin had to have been harmed in some way, but he said Mab had saved him, too, and she was standing near him, her gaze still calculating and cold when it fell on the rest of the room, but when it skimmed over her son, there was something that Arthur wouldn't go so far as to describe as softness, more a kind of fierce protectiveness, in her gaze.
Now the man was no longer sure what to think. Mab and Merlin weren't enemies anymore, and Mab appeared to be allied to Vortigern, and yet they had allowed Merlin here to talk to him- presumably because it matched up with some plot of their's, and Arthur was damned if he could fathom what it was. His eyes moved back to the Queen of the Old Ways, narrowing slightly- a lifetime of war could not be set aside, even for a moment, as easily as that- and spoke.
"Why did you bring him here?" he muttered, his voice cracking, "So that I would know he doesn't remember me? Is that it? You want me to know I have no allies left?"
Mab rolled her eyes at that, "You are a helpless prisoner locked in a dungeon, if I had wanted to prove that to you, I hardly needed to bring my son here." Her voice dripped scorn, "You were the one who called for him, you tell me why you wanted him here." Arthur turned back to Merlin, who was giving him an increasingly wary gaze.
"I wanted to make sure you were alright," Arthur said quietly, "You disappeared before Vortigern attacked us, you didn't leave word, no-one could find you. And then Mordred was in the dungeon across from me, and he said that... that something had happened to you." Merlin's gaze grew somewhat less wary, though he still glanced at Mab, as if for encouragement.
"I'm alright," he said, hesitantly, "I don't remember you... nothing about this attack. I can't remember most things, but I'm not hurt." He shrugged helplessly, uncertain of what else to say.
Mab watched this exchange with interest. It wasn't entirely without it's downsides- Arthur was clear enough about his dislike for her to Merlin- yet the fact that the boy obviously remembered Merlin as a friend, to the extent of worrying about him... well, that could prove useful indeed, a string to tie the man to her just incase she ever did need to use him.
Vortigern, on the other hand, was watching the scene with decidedly less enthusiasm. Keeping Arthur happy enough that he didn't batter his brains out on the floor was one thing, but he wasn't entirely sure he was happy about how much Mab was encouraging her wizard brat in this little conversation with a man who a few weeks previously had been a competitor for the throne that by rights should belong to Vortigern.
He narrowed his eyes at her, "What are you planning?"
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Post by Lane of Magic on Mar 14, 2008 1:48:22 GMT 9.5
Merlin turned around to face Mab again, shook his head defeatedly, sighing. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything more than I did before coming here… Could we go?”
“Yes.” It was enough for Vortigern to give him an immediate answer, even though the question had not been directed to him.
“No,” Mab’s reply came at the same time, turning into a snarl as she looked at Vortigern questioningly. “I don’t suppose that was just your sick pleasure to contradict me?” The man let out a small bark of laughter, seeming genuinely amused.
“No, Mab. Not this time, at least. But there wouldn’t be any point in keeping him here.” He threw a glance at Merlin, then gestured towards Arthur. “He’s seen his wizard, he won’t be acting up anymore, so Merlin can go now. Unless, of course, it’s «your sick pleasure» to torment him – well, he is slightly amusing looking so confused… They both are.” Mab rolled her eyes. Indeed, this could have worked out better, but maybe Merlin just needed some more time, maybe Arthur happened to say something to trigger a memory. And a little more time was exactly what she would give him.
“Very well, Merlin, as you wish, just say good-bye to Arthur, see if there’s anything he wants to tell you. And we shall leave soon.” She noticed Vortigern was quite relieved, and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you suddenly so eager to get rid of me?”
“Oh, not you. Your son. I’m being considerate,” he went to explain. “He doesn’t look very happy, and if he wants to leave, why should either of us stop him? Why, don’t you want to leave as well, the sooner, the better?” Mab smiled slightly.
“No…” she whispered, shook her head. And indeed, she didn’t. “…Just because I want to make sure this goes well. And that this… Arthur doesn’t cause any more problems, so his men won’t see it fit to join Gorlois,” she clarified, perhaps trying to convince herself more than Vortigern. Her attention was somewhat distracted by the wizard, and she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening slightly as she saw Merlin clutch his head again.
“What is it? What’s happened?” she asked, taking a few steps towards him. Out of all the things that might have happened, making him feel worse was not what she had wanted. Unless… Mab narrowed her eyes, “Did you just remember something?”
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Post by himiko on Mar 17, 2008 11:51:21 GMT 9.5
Merlin opened his mouth as if to reply, but instead, a cry of pain echoed around the room, and he sank to his knees. Arthur watched, a look of growing horror on his face at the sight of the wizard clutching his head in obvious pain. Mab swiftly appeared at Merlin's side.
"Merlin!" she repeated more urgently, trying to keep the worry from her voice and expression, knowing that Vortigern was looking on at the whole scene with an almost amused sort of interest written across his face. She had lost her dignity before him before, she refused to do it again. Still, it was hard, she had already lost or come close to losing Merlin so many times, seeing him like this didn't do wonders for her composure.
"What's happening?" demanded Arthur, staring down at Merlin, "Is he all right?" Mab ignored his questions, crouching beside Merlin instead, and placing a hand on his shoulder, waiting as he stopped whimpering, eventually, and turned to her, clinging to her arms. Mab helped him to draw upright, determinedly not looking at either Vortigern or Arthur.
"Merlin," she murmured this time, more quietly, seeing as he now seemed able to hear her. His gaze turned towards her, looking rather frightened, glanced around at the other men in the room, before turning back to face her, "Did you remember anything?" she prompted gently. Merlin nodded, and Mab's eyes lit up, but before she could prompt him, his face crumpled, he hung his head.
"Please," he muttered, "Can we go home?" Mab hesitated for a moment, peering around the hall. This hadn't been quite how she'd been planning to leave matters, in fact it hadn't been at all how she'd been planning to leave them. Still, Merlin was clearly distressed, and she did want to find out what it was that he had remembered. She nodded reassuringly to her son, then turned to Vortigern.
"I'll come back later," she said, shortly, vanishing swiftly with Merlin before he could make any reply.
Upon appearing in the Land of Magic, in Merlin's room, Mab watched as her son sank down to sit on the bed.
"What is it you remembered?" she asked, trying to hide her eagerness in the face of Merlin's evident discomfort. He seemed hesitant to say anything, and for several moments, Mab's heart sank, as her mind leapt to the dire worry that perhaps he had remembered something- his death, or his earlier war against Mab, or how he'd blamed her for Nimue's death, something that might turn him against her irreparably without the rest of his memories to balance it out. But when he turned towards her, his gaze, though frightened, looked as dependent on her as ever, and she relaxed slightly.
"There were..." Merlin trailed off, as though unsure how to describe it, "That castle, I remembered it... Vortigern was there, he hit me, and then it was dark, and I couldn't get out, I was underground, and you weren't there..." Mab patted her son's arm soothingly, putting together the pieces in her head to figure out he must have been referring to the time, years ago now, when she'd lured Vortigern's soothsayer to Merlin, and the then-king had taken him prisoner- though perhaps, for the time being, she should leave that explanation aside for a while. She knew Merlin hadn't enjoyed either that confinement, or the similar situation he had been in under Uther, but surely that couldn't have upset him to this extent...
"That was a long time ago, Merlin," Mab replied, patting his arm, "It won't happen again, I promise..."
"But it did," Merlin said, half distractedly, "It did happen again- there was another cell, another man, younger, he had dark hair..." Uther, Mab thought to herself, it had to be. Merlin went on, "And then I remembered him again, except we were in a tent, and he was lying on the floor, and I..." He stared up at her, as though worried what her reaction might be, "I was holding a knife. His blood was on my hands." He stared at them, as though expecting them to be stained red with the dead prince's blood, and curled his legs up to his chest, miserably.
Mab chose her words, carefully, knowing that to say the wrong thing would only make matter worse for Merlin, "Merlin, that man was Prince Uther, he was trying to gain the throne before he died, and he was a Christian."
"Like Arthur?" Merlin asked unsurely, not being entirely familiar with the ideas of Christianity any more, except that it was a religion that was different to the Old Ways. Mab shook her head.
"Not quite," she replied bitterly, "They follow... well, they followed the same religion. But Uther hated the Old Ways, he thought they needed to be destroyed, and he especially hated you. He killed your lover, and make no mistake, he would have killed you if you hadn't killed him first." Merlin peered up at her, not looking entirely soothed by her words.
"But I still killed him," he said, "I killed someone. My mother died giving birth to me, and you say I had a lover that died, too. And you..." he trailed off.
"What about me?" Mab pressed, uncertainly.
"After I came back, Loke found me in my room. I was throwing things, scrawling on the walls, and I don't know what I was thinking at the time, but I remembered your voice," His own voice was growing thick now, whether at the evidently unpleasant memory, or the simple fact of being unable to make sense of it all, to recall the rest of his memories and actually understand, "You were saying "You have killed me, Merlin..." How many people have I hurt, how many other people have died because of me? Was that who I was?"
"Merlin," Mab said sternly, "Listen to me. Uther's fate was, perhaps, unfortunate rashness from you, but well deserved enough. As for the rest: plenty of women die in childbirth, and Uther killed so many people, whoever displeased him, that there's no guarantee your lover would have been safe, even if you and he had never met. No-one was under that war, no-one is," she corrected herself, "And for me: surely you can see that I'm not dead." Her voice softened slightly, "You didn't kill me. What happened was an accident, you never intended it. You brought me back here, you helped me. A few months later, you saved me," She went on, remembering the incident with her son and his army of shades, and shuddering slightly, "If you had wanted to hurt me, I would have had no choice but to cast you from my kingdom long ago. I trust you."
Merlin clung to her again, rested his head on her shoulder, as though her words were comforting him. Still, when she finally pulled back, he whispered to her, "Don't make me go back there, please. I don't want to remember any more..." Mab wasn't sure what to say to that. She wanted her son to regain his memories, his mind, his magic, wanted him back to how he had been before with a powerful intensity. And yet, if it made him hate her again, was it worth the price? Was it any better to keep him here, dependent and trusting and adoring, frail and memoryless and childlike, teach him his magic all over again, and hope that eventually he would become her champion once more? Or to bring more memories on him, hurt him, scare him, bring him back to his former self, with his memories, but at the same time lose him again? Eventually, she simply patted his arm, gave a small smile and walked out of the room, leaving him to rest.
Outside, she called for Frik, glaring at the gnome when he took a few minutes to appear, "Stay here," she snapped, "Listen out for Merlin, if he needs me, come and fetch me." And with that, she vanished once more, back to Pendragon Castle.
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Post by Lane of Magic on Mar 23, 2008 16:35:10 GMT 9.5
She flickered there in an instant, only to find Vortigern sat on his throne, his sword beside him, staring down as the light reflected itself upon its blade. He seemed deep in thought, or as close to that as she’d ever seen him. And indeed, he was worried. There were numerous doubts tearing at him, something that had never happened before. But then again, he didn’t have anything to lose back then – it was all about conquering. It still was. And yet, something was different – something felt different. And he hated that it would make him hesitate, make him think twice, wonder if this was the best way to go about this.
“Where’s Arthur?” Mab asked, almost worried not to see the man there anymore. Considering the latest events, it was probably understandable. Vortigern’s head snapped up, the moment her serpent voice interrupted his flow of thought.
“He’s been a good boy, he’s agreed to carry on with out little parade, and is currently back in his cell. And he’ll only leave it to get his head cut in a few days, if all goes well,” he replied curtly, and Mab frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“That’s all the time I need to finally get this over with,” Vortigern explained, then stood up, gestured slightly as he spoke again. “Attacking Cornwall, defeating him, getting the throne back – sound familiar?…”
“You’re going to attack so soon?” A touch of surprise she couldn’t really hide played briefly on her face. It only made Vortigern grimace, a thoughtful, almost worried look returning – it wasn’t the exact reaction he’d expected, but then again, there were many things he hadn’t expected, he had to admit that, even if only to himself.
“It isn’t soon. Soon would have been when I took Arthur prisoner. If anything, it might be late. Hopefully not too late, for both our sakes…” he trailed off, grinding his teeth, horribly vexed by these dark thoughts.
“It won’t be too late,” Mab snapped, the confidence and determination in the hoarse whisper of her voice surprising even her. The very idea that this could go wrong was not somehting she was willing to think of. Naturally, this changed the situation slightly – it meant there was no time to even try get this Arthur on her side, no matter what she did, so she would have to at least put off any other plans she might have had regarding him and simply… trust Vortigern. The thought alone made her grimace slightly – this would indeed be a leap of faith. It was quite amusing when mortals did that – it felt awful, now that she was in this position. But he would be needing a little bit of magical help, even if by some miracle his trick lasted long enough and Arthur’s former men remained at his side. He’d be needing far more, if they didn’t. On the other hand, he didn’t seem to exactly hate her, nor want to fool her – it was more than Mab could expect from that Christian king from the future in the next few days, and it did weigh more, eventually. “You’ll get to be king again,” she nodded, then asked testily, “But what then?”
“Then? All the more fun then,” Vortigern tried to sound just as confident, and smirked, staring down on her. “What with restoring your old ways… It hasn’t conveniently slipped my mind, if that’s what worries you,” he said, more lightly.
“It had better not,” Mab growled. “And I will help you defeat Cornwall, just as I said I would. But how can I be sure you’re not going to drop any alliance we might have, once this war is over?” A very knowing smile spread on Vortigern’s face – who would know better than he himself, just how difficult, or downright impossible it was to blindly rely on someone’s word? He took a deep breath, before replying.
“Let’s just put it this way – for better or worse, people seem to still fear you somewhat. I’ll have less to worry about, if they knew I have your support,” he admitted frankly, much as it galled him to do so. He then came closer to her, the sour expression on his face at his earlier statement changed into a playful smirk. “Besides, having a… goddess of war around, can be exciting. Unpredictable…”
“Oh?” Mab narrowed her eyes slightly, not sure what to make of this anymore as he whispered the last words, and he promptly stepped aside and gestured to his throne, the mark from where his sword had been still visible.
“You could restore that, while you’re here, by the way. If you say you’re going to grant me your help in a war, this shouldn’t be that difficult for you.” She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps snap again, at the slightly mocking tone in his voice, that made it feel that he was merely testing her, trying to figure out what exactly in her powers was illusion and what was fact. But then she just turned to him, and smiled.
“No. You’ll just have to do it yourself, once you’re king.” She stressed the word, knowing he wanted his power back just as much as she wanted hers. “See it as extra motivation to win, if you will.” Vortigern seemed to ponder this for a moment, before smirking slightly again.
“Apart from what?”
“Are you blind?” Mab stared at him blankly, raising an eyebrow. She waited for his smirk to widen, then proceeded to spreading her hands widely, “Look around you – this whole country will be yours again. Isn’t that good enough, isn’t it what you want?”
“Of course it is…” She smiled, chuckled inwardly, seeing the bried look of puzzlement on his face. “But I’m not blind,“ Vortigern added, the smirk back in place as they stared at each other. He didn’t look even slightly annoyed – of course, he was in no position to, she reminded herself – he was the one in more dire need of her help, until he won the war at least. But then again, he had offered to help her before this imminent threat of losing part of his army and he didn’t have to do that then, which meant there were fairly good odds that he keep his part of the bargain now. As they were stood there, Mab wondered why she should even bother in keeping up that half smile that adorned her face – that question, however, she preferred to leave unanswered.
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Post by himiko on Apr 1, 2008 7:08:59 GMT 9.5
Not a post, I'm afraid, but a belated happy birthday to Jim, who is now officially a year old! *brings out the banners and balloons and partying ninjas*
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Post by Lane of Magic on Apr 2, 2008 12:01:50 GMT 9.5
A year... wow... *looks back nostalgically at all that's happened so far* *feels fuzzy inside*
Well, the best - or should I say... unexpected - is yet to come? *g*
*gently pokes randomers towards Jim* *pokes Himiko for managing to break her own record of not updating* *goes to write "whatever" she's got to write atm, before getting poked back*
P.S.: Happy Birthday, Jim!
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Post by himiko on Apr 3, 2008 10:08:50 GMT 9.5
At first it seemed like a normal dream- or normal for the wizard since his return from the dead. Indeed, at first that's precisely what it was- confused images of his newfound memories, mingled with events from these past few weeks. He was standing next to Mab in the throne room of Pendragon castle, watching Arthur be dragged off, and suddenly guards were grabbing him, too, dragging him down into the dungeons, and he stared around helplessly for Mab, but she wasn't here any more. The door slammed behind him, and he peered around the cell, which looked very much like the inside of a tent. When he peered down, he held a knife that was dripping blood, and he dropped it quickly. He looked back up, and that's when something changed.
A large cauldon sat in the centre of the tent, it's contents steaming, despite the fact that there was no fire under it. Approaching it cautiously, Merlin stared into it, feeling somewhat relieved when he saw what was reflected in the surface. Mab- it was alright, he thought to himself, her image reassuring him, she wouldn't let him get hurt. But her image in the cauldron wasn't facing him, instead, it was staring past him, into the distance. An expression of pure terror dawned on her face, and she seemed to be screaming, though he couldn't hear her, but instead of showing him the source of her fear, the image flickered, changing as he watched. Images of chaos, of destruction, seemed to engulf the cauldron's surface. One moment, it showed a battle, tiny figures shouting and screaming and bleeding and dying. Now it showed the Land of Magic, but it was so blurry and pale that Merlin could hardly make it out. Finally, it showed a small stone figurine falling to the ground and shattering, as shadowy, indistinct outlines lurked in the background. Now he finally heard Mab's scream, and the sound chilled his blood, and woke him.
For several moments, he lay still, shivering and breathing heavily. His first instinct was to run to Mab, make sure that she was alright, but then he remembered that she wasn't here- she had left before he went to sleep, back into the mortal realm, where he couldn't reach her. He forced himself to breathe normally, tried to calm his thoughts, tell himself it was probably just more memories from the past, unpleasant to be sure, but surely irrelevant to the present day. But no matter how often he repeated the words to himself, he couldn't make himself believe them. He remembered what the memories of Uther's death, and his own imprisonment had been like when they had taken him, and this hadn't felt like that, this was something different.
Shaking, Merlin wrapped the blankets around himself, still trying to coax his mind to calmness, and waited for Mab to return. Surely she would know what it meant, know what to do?
---
Mab, meanwhile, was still occupied at Pendragon.
"Promises to help me in this battle are all very well, Mab," Vortigern was saying, "But if I'm going to be fighting it, I want to know what exactly it is you're planning. Assuming that you have one, that is," he added, with the faintest hint of mockery. Mab glared at him.
"I've given it some thought," she replied snappily, though in truth, amidst the general confusion of the past few days, she hadn't given it quite so much thought as she perhaps should have. Nontheless, a plan was beginning to form in her mind. It wasn't perfect, but it would do for now.
"You will take your men to the battlefield, but under cover of darkness. You'll need to conceal yourselves, and make sure Gorlois's troops don't spot you and become suspicious. When it grows light, an army will march onto the battlefield, a fair distance away from you. They will resemble your army, but they will be illusions, nothing more. Of course, they won't be able to fight, any blows they strike will do nothing more than scare Cornwall's men. But it will prove a distraction, one which will allow you to attack Gorlois from behind whilst he is confused, and his troops are frightened. If you cannot win under those circumstances..." Mab trailed off and finished with a scornful look. Vortigern might have been peeved by that if he had noticed it, but he was somewhat distracted by going over the plan in his head.
"It would certainly prove useful, if pulled off correctly," he nodded to himself, before turning back to face Mab, "Though you seem rather vague on the finer points, Madam. Where exactly do you propose we hide?"
"There's plenty of woodland between you and Gorlois," Mab replied promptly, grateful for the fact that the fires that had taken place in the time after Merlin's first death had never come to pass this time around, "As long as it's sufficient to conceal your men from a casual glance, my illusions should distract them before they can look too closely. Provided that they managed to get there unnoticed, at least." Vortigern nodded thoughtfully once again.
"You would have to ensure that your illusions were stationed so that Gorlois' troops will be facing away from mine once they reached them," he reminded her. Mab gave him a withering glance.
"I'm not a fool." Vortigern took a few moments to consider this. Did he trust Mab? Not really, but then again, she couldn't lie, and the way she'd laid the plan out was fairly straightforward. It was a sound enough idea, and provided it worked in practice, would give him a tremendous advantage.
"Very well," he agreed finally, "If you can do this for me, then I'll set about restoring your Old Ways. You can have my word on that."
For what it's worth, Mab thought to herself, but bit back the retort, "Agreed," she said instead, nodding.
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Post by Lane of Magic on Apr 7, 2008 14:15:18 GMT 9.5
Back in the Land of Magic, Mab chose to remain for a while in her Sanctum Sanctorum. She needed to think, needed to use these few days left till the battle to regain as much power as possible – even if she did not want to admit it, creating such a grand illusion was no longer something easy to pull off. And it had to look absolutely believable. Perfect. There would be no use to it otherwise.
She thought about her last parting with Vortigern – he’d agreed to restore her religion, she’d agreed to help him in his war. Not to mention that he’d kept his mocking tone to a minimum – and she herself had managed to keep quips to herself. In fact, now that she thought about it, it had been…
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing shortly after resting on the man who had uttered the words.
“What is, Loki?” she growled. He brother merely shrugged, waved his hand dismissively.
“Ah, your grin just now… The fact that he’s still alive… The fact that you haven’t sent any fireball my way yet…” the Lord of Fire chuckled, obviously enjoying teasing her as much as always.
“All that could easily change,” Mab warned, no more amused by her brother than the last time they had spoken. Her expression changed slightly, from annoyed to worried. “Why are you here, Loke? Don’t tell me you have some more news you’d find delightful and I’d find at least alarming.”
“Oh, you seem to be doing just fine on that one, sister… I mean, I never would have thought that the idea of having to fight off the same enemy would work miracles on the two of you and keep you from jumping at each other’s throats. Admittedly, that’s already…”
“Enough, Loke! I don’t need any reminders as to why I don’t want to help Vortigern…” She went to elaborate, but the Lord of Fire lifted his hands in the air, waving them in a pacifying gesture. “But I don’t find it alarming, by the way,” he stated, still unable to wipe off the grin on his face.
“Of course, you don’t. You probably find it… amusing,” she grimaced, silently wondering how long it would take for her to lose her patience entirely. It didn’t seem to upset her brother, though.
“That too,” he admitted. “But then again, I’m the Lord of Fire and of the Lord of Emotions, too. I tend to find many things funny… especially when you don’t.” She certainly didn’t. But he was right, on one thing at least – winning this war, and finally putting an end – at least temporary – to her own war was enough reason for her to go along with this.
“Don’t make me throw you out of my kingdom again,” Mab growled. “Although you did make a good point – I would hate to have to think what might happen if this doesn’t work out the way we planned it.” Indeed, out of two poor options there were, she was only choosing the less bad one – and she didn’t have to analyse anything more. But she could make sure this battle ended sooner and easier – she looked up at her brother again, considering something. “You could make yourself useful, now that you’re here. You like chaos, you could cause the men in Cornwall’s army to be… less disciplined than usually?” She noticed the man’s doubtful expression, “I suppose you already know what Vortigern and I have talked, if you’ve been around long enough.” Loke only smiled somewhat awkwardly, to her dismay.
“No, I wouldn’t have dreamed of intruding. But yes, causing general chaos sounds like fun. Speaking of which – no reason to glare at me like that, sister – I have actually come by to see how things were, if I’m to be completely honest. My kingdom doesn’t present as much interest anymore, what can I say… And, also, your son might have a bit more knowledge than the last time you saw him. Shall we…” he hadn’t finished the last words, than she was already heading towards Merlin’s room.
“I did tell Frik to call me, should anything happen…” she said, as Loke caught up with her.
“Well, nothing happened, technically. But you might find this interesting,” he replied, as they entered her son’s chamber. To her surprise, he seemed to all right, and his face certainly lit up when he saw her walk in – at least, he hadn’t recovered any… “undesirable” memories – but, still, her brother’s words had been intriguing enough for her to want to know more. “Merlin, what’s happened?” she asked tentatively.
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Post by himiko on Apr 11, 2008 11:16:43 GMT 9.5
He didn't answer her question directly at first, choosing to reply to it with one of his own.
"Are you all right?" Mab blinked in surprise as her son went on, "Did anything happen to you?"
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, rather uncertainly, "I was at Pendragon, planning the battle between Vortigern and Cornwall. Why? What's happened? Have you remembered something?"
"I don't think so," Merlin replied tentatively, "I saw something, but it felt different, not like when I remembered before. I was asleep, dreaming about something. But when I looked up, there was some sort of cauldron standing there, and when I looked into it, I saw things..."
"The Cauldron of Rebirth..." Mab muttered, half to herself, and more than half a curse. That damned thing had caused enough misery, and more times than not had twisted the truth to make a difficult situation even more confusing for her and those around her. Merlin shrugged uncertainly, and peered at Loke, who helpfully stepped into the conversation.
"Funnily enough," he replied cheerfully, "That was my first thought, too. Unless there's another cauldron that reflects the future drifting about the mortal realms somewhere, which I personally think unlikely. Although, who knows? Unlikely isn't impossible..." Mab rolled her eyes as her brother began to ramble. Noticing this, Loke gave her a grin, and got back to the point, "Anyway, my point is this, Merlin has no real recollection of seeing the cauldron, certainly not in it's capacity to see the future.."
"And the things I saw in it," Merlin interrupted suddenly, waiting for Mab's attention to switch back to him, before going on quickly, "You were there, and you looked so scared, you were screaming. I saw a battle, people fighting, but I couldn't see who won. I saw the Land of Magic, but it looked faded and blurred, and I saw some kind of statue smash on the ground. I don't know what it means, but it didn't feel like a memory, and Loke and Frik couldn't think of any memories that would fit the description, anyway." Mab blinked slowly.
"And what is it that Loke, in his suddenly helpful mood, believes this was?" she turned towards her brother, eyebrow raised.
"I think it was a vision," Loke stated plainly, not bothering to tease his sister for once, "Think, Mab. You know it wouldn't be the first time Merlin had glimpsed the future. And the Cauldron, well, seeing the future is half it's purpose. That Merlin saw the cauldron in his dream has to mean something..."
"Loke, you know full well what has come from heeding the cauldron too closely in the past," Mab replied, her voice sharpened by her own unhappy memories. Merlin looked slightly nervous when he spoke next.
"I don't know about the cauldron I saw," he replied, slowly, "But the things I saw in it... they seemed real, but in a different way to the memories. I don't understand it, but I think... no, I know that they meant something, whether it was what they showed or not."
"I agree," replied Loke, and now all the teasing was gone from his voice, "Something's coming, Mab, you need to be prepared. Perhaps it would be wise to glance into the real cauldron..."
"No!" Mab snapped, "Something is always coming, Loke. Precious little has gone right for me in years, and the little that does is usually taken from me." Her eyes flickered slightly towards Merlin of their own volition, "Whenever I have relied on a vision from that cauldron, it seems to serve to do nothing but set me on the wrong course. I can't afford that to happen now, not when I still have this battle to win." Merlin looked openly worried, and Loke raised his own eyebrow now.
"You'd rather not know what's coming?" he asked, "You'd rather face it blindly." Mab gritted her teeth. He was right.
"No," she snarled, "Of course not. But I need to get through this battle first. If Gorlois becomes king, half this fight will be lost. Then I will go to Anoeth- if it seems neccessary at the time." Merlin still looked worried, and Mab made the effort to smile, "Don't fret, Merlin. As I said, the cauldron shows the truth, but not always the way you might think. It may not be so serious as it seems." Though in truth, she thought, as she turned towards the door, the thought of it made her heart sink.
"Mab!" Merlin called after her, "Be careful..." He still sounded somewhat nervous, as though he would have liked to say more, but didn't want to sound as though he were commanding her. Loke, however, had no such qualms.
"Yes," he repeated, his voice equal parts sternness and sympathy, "Be careful."
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Post by Lane of Magic on Apr 15, 2008 18:50:08 GMT 9.5
She knew all that – there was no need to be reminded by her brother as well just how dire the situation really was. Mab threw him a chilling glower, before turning back to Merlin, mustering a reassuring smile, and walking out of the room. She glared at Loke again, when he followed her.
“I know how things stand, so save your breath, Loke.” Surprisingly or not, the Lord of Fire grinned somewhat indulgingly, before his features settled into a serious expression again.
“Actually, I was just curious to…”
“Don’t start again with your incessant teasing,” Mab cut him off, not at all convinced by his apparent change in attitude, but her brother scoffed.
“I wasn’t going to. I’m done with it – it’s already served its purpose.” He only grinned briefly, before changing the subject. “As for whatever it is you have planned for this battle…” If anything was to gain Mab’s full attention, this was definitely it – she considered something, then decided that perhaps it was wiser not to involve the Lord of Fire in this unnecessarily. Not being convincing enough in creating that illusion might be bad – overdoing things could also backfire.
“I’ll summon you, if and when need be.” The Lord of Fire seemed satisfied with the answer, and much as he hated the idea that he would miss out on all the fun, he decided not to pursue this any further.
“Very well. And I was wondering, what will you do with Merlin once, say, you’ve won?” Mab stared at him, blankly, unsure as to why he would suddenly show so much interest towards the wizard. He might have had a vision, maybe not even that – still, it didn’t mean much.
“Keep him here, of course. There’s no safer place for him for the time being, and he still has a lot to learn before I can think of anything else,” she admitted frankly. It wasn’t just worry, it was also a feeling of disappointment that she would still have to wait for a long time, without any guarantee that it would be worth it. And then there was also something else, something that enhanced all this unease, but she reckoned it must be just because of the approaching battle, which might decide everything. Her brother seemed to sense this, for he reached out to pat her on the shoulder.
“This will turn out well.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” And even now, encouraging was not exactly what Mab wanted, nor needed, so she changed the subject swiftly. “You were leaving, were you not? Need any help with that, Loki?” she tried to sound good humoured, and made small fireball appear, but she still couldn’t be at ease. Her brother let out a snort of laughter, then stared at her again.
“Good luck, sister,” the Lord of Fire bowed, then disappeared into a burst of flames, returning to his kingdom.
She focused on the battle, just as she had intended. Getting this over with, that was the priority. She could think of all the trouble that might happen in the Land of Magic later – it had already got her attention too much and for too long, and she was no longer willing to let that happen. Nothing could happen in just a day, and that was all that Mab needed to put an end to it all. She convinced herself of it, as time elapsed. And she continued to push all other thoughts to the back of her mind, as she went to meet Vortigern again, the day of the battle.
If she had expected to find him as thoughtful as the last time, she would have been surprised – he was quite alert, recongnized immediately the flash of light caused by her appearing there, despite the numerous lightnings and thunders from the tempest outside. She knew he had been waiting for her – he wouldn’t admit, of course.
“Mab.” She looked darker, more mysterious, more powerful than he remembered having ever seen her – as if she were tempest herself, Vortigern thought inwardly. She didn’t even move initially – she didn’t even appear to breathe, as her eyes skimmed briefly around the Great Hall, before finally resting on him. There was nothing but sheer determination in her gaze, the wish to win reflected in his own.
“Is your army all set?” she inquired. Vortigern nodded in response.
“When will you cast that illusion?” he asked, a touch of impatience in his voice. “I can’t keep an entire army hidden in the forest for long, you realise.” Mab arched an eyebrow, not appreciating the approach, stared at him scornfully as she replied.
“And there would be no point in creating the illusionary army too soon either. I will be there at the right moment, not sooner, nor later. It is in my interest too, after all.”
“True.” A frown creased his forehead briefly, before he put on a smile, and tried to sound as confident as ever, “Well, this is it, then. By the end of the day, this shall be a rather nice memory, don’t you agree, Milady?” Mab nodded slowly, watched him somewhat incredulously, inwardly wondering if he really had no fears at all. He should have – he was just a mortal, after all. And, yes, he might have had infinite luck once, but he couldn’t possibly imagine he was untouchable – he was just as frail, and as vulnerable to death as the next man. Mab wasn’t, and she knew that even if this battle was lost, there would still be time to think of something, but even so, she couldn’t help being amazed at his unflinching attitude. Unwillingly, she found herself suddenly swamped in all the thoughts she had tried so hard to ignore.
Had her brother been right? Had she been? She had spoken in a moment of rage things she did not mean, but what if it had actually been her deapest buried fears? Would indeed everything be taken away from her, just as it had happened too many times? Would he? What if something went wrong, what if she lost everything together with this battle? The thoughts crept into her mind, tearing at her with doubt and uncertainty, before she could tell herself that all this was completely unfounded.
As they stood there, Mab couldn’t stop thinking that she would probably always hate him, that she could not forgive what he had done, that… that this might indeed be it, that he might die, that it would not be undone and somehow, none of the hate she felt mattered anymore, only for a moment. A long enough moment for her to lunge forwards, clench her hands in his chainmail and pull him towards her, pressing their lips together. Only for a moment. She did not know why she would do this – why now, of all times. But somehow, having a reason didn’t seem to matter either, as she felt his arms lock around her, as he instinctively responded to her kiss, once the initial surprise had passed. She wanted to just feel him there with her – as if he would give her substance, make her real. Which was ludicrous in itself and completely preposterous and yet it was this embrace that caused her breath to accelerate, that she did not want to fight, for the little time it lasted.
She pulled back, but her hands remained clenched in place. She only stared, glared, gazed at him.
“I do want you to die. But not now. Not yet…” her voice descended from the hoarsest most full of hatred tone to the faintest whisper, as the words were ripped from her. “Be careful.” And with that, she stepped back, grinded her teeth, and cleared her throat, knowing she had already said more than she had ever imagined she would – or would be able to.
The doors opened suddenly, before Vortigern could reply in anyway, and one of his soldiers came in, announcing the army was ready. He glared at the man menacingly. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” he growled, causing a look of puzzlement cross the man’s face, who couldn’t really suppress a shrug.
“But Your Majesty ordered that I let you know when… Yes, as… as you say, Sire,” he muttered, with a fairly dumb expression on his face, causing Vortigern to wonder for how long he would still have such fools in his service.
He let out an annoyed sigh and ground his teeth, “Tell the men I’ll be there shortly.” The soldier looked at him still somewhat confused about his initial question, not really understanding what else he might have to do there, but nodded obligingly and scurried off as soon as Vortigern signalled him to leave.
Mab was still stood there, when he turned to face her again. She couldn’t help feel something was not quite right, but she was determined not to focus on anything but the battle, now that victory was so close. She forced a smile, preferring to ignore her earlier outburst – Vortigern, on the other hand, didn’t seem very much at ease, as he stared at her with wide eyes.
“What the… Mab?” he said, his voice suddenly strangled as never before.
“What is it?” she whispered, trying to sound as neutral as ever. He had better not make any jibes, she thought, while waiting for a reply. For a moment, there was no such reply, only a frown, as if he was trying to ascertain something. Unusual as it was for him, he just stared at her, opened his mouth a few times, then closed it back, as if he could not utter something he found himself unable to explain. Needless to say, it only served to increase her unease all the more – it was nothing, however, compared to what she felt as he finally answered.
“You’re… fading away.”
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