Obviously, this is extremely AU; I tried to explain the circumstances the main characters find themselves in in the text.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gargoyles.
It seemed almost an insult that the day was so sunny, so pleasant and unseasonably warm (though the air had a distinct bite of winter) with a brilliant pale blue sky.
Katharine flinched at the "boom" of a battering ram being slammed up against the heavy wooden door on the second level of the fortress city. Maol Chalvim's men held the door as best they could, those in front pressing their full weight against the door; others behind leveled swords and long spears at the doors in anticipation of what would come when the doors inevitably splintered and crashed.
"Do you think they have gotten away safely?" She enquired anxiously, sea gray eyes flicking back to the Magus, who stood beside her, watching the door where two opposite regiments of soldiers stood on either side.
They were standing on the low-walled landing of a staircase that led down into the courtyard where the fighting would inexorably spill. Maol Chalvim himself was nowhere to be found; Katharine had no inkling if her cousin still lived.
The battering ram came again, and a man screamed.
The Magus snapped out of whatever reverie he had been caught in. "Have no fear, your Highness. By this time, Tom, Mary, Lady Finella and the eggs should all be safe on Avalon."
Avalon. The name months ago had been a myth, a place in legends that didn't exist. Weeks ago, it had become a real destination, a safe haven. But now, the name was a curse upon Katharine's tongue.
Avalon was lost to them both; who was to have known that their attempted escape would have gone so terribly wrong?
Constantine had fallen in sleep thanks to the Magus's sleeping draught dutifully administered by Finella. He should have slept until the morning, maybe even noon of the next day, which would have given the five of them ample time to escape with the gargoyle eggs. At least it should have.
Instead, as they were preparing at the docks, the sounds of hoof beats were heard in the distance. Constantine himself was not riding with them, but in the ensuing chaos while Finella, Tom and Mary had managed to get themselves and the eggs onto the water (The Magus had as a precaution told Finella, who could speak some Latin, the spell necessary to get to Avalon), Katharine and the Magus had not; Constantine's men had captured them.
And, seemingly like a reprieve from Heaven itself (Katharine still had a hard time believing it had happened), just when it seemed as though all hope had been lost for them, suddenly Maol Chalvim's men (who had been creating a complete uproar in the area to help destabilize things and make it harder for Constantine to function) showed up, and recognized Katharine.
They were safe, for a time, but the Magus was left to regret a rash action (sadly typical of him under moments of strain) he had committed during the time he believed he and Princess Katharine would be captured.
"Magus?" Katharine asked quietly, noticing something. "Where is the Grimorum? Did you give it to the others?"
He had, in fact, thrown it into the sea rather than let Constantine get his hands on it.
The Magus shook his head miserably. "Because the sort of mischief Constantine's sorcerer could wreak with that book is unimaginable."
Katharine did not resent him for it; he had only done what he had thought was best, and in truth, Katharine could not blame him; in his position, she probably would have done the same. But as it was, the Grimorum Arcanorum was now sitting at the bottom of the sea, out of their reach; and thus so was Avalon out of their reach for the rest of their days.
"I hope so," Katharine murmured in response. Devoid of tears (Katharine had always trained herself not to cry as a child because she felt it wasn't fitting for one of her station, and she found now that that "training" did not serve her ill), she suddenly spoke, "I never believed I would die this way, you know. I never gave much thought to death at all, really." Which was unusual, since it had been just about all the resident priest, Father Fionnlagh, had spoken of when he delivered Mass.
He shot her a strange look. "What makes you believe that we are going to die today, Princess?" An old, familiar, almost teasing note, the tone he had occasionally taken with her when Katharine was a child at her Latin lessons, resurfaced.
Katharine could almost manage a perfectly serene smile (almost, but not quite; she couldn't imagine smiling at a time like that), even as men died on the first level of the city, and Constantine's men mercilessly battered the wood and iron doors to the second level with a tree stump with a diameter of several feet.
The Magus was as he had ever been a good friend to her, and in those unpredictable, dangerous, emotionally trying weeks, had been a comforting presence and an increasingly close friend. But there was one thing Katharine honestly could not understand.
"Magus…" She broke off sadly, struck with an attack of inarticulacy.
"Your Highness?" He probed, looking sideways at her, somewhat confused and oddly preoccupied.
A drum beating in the distance (or maybe it was just Katharine's own heart hammering in her ribcage) gave Katharine her speech back, and she uttered, "Why are you here, Magus?"
The Magus smiled coolly, and a small noise that might have formed the shape of a laugh escaped. "Because Constantine has the city surrounded and there is no way of escaping any longer?"
Katharine let out a small noise of frustration. "That is not what I mean! Why have you remained by my side for these past few weeks? Why did you not take the opportunity to escape with the people of the city when Constantine first reached it?"
He answered almost immediately, yet the words seemed to be somehow painful for him. "Your Highness, I…" The Magus seemed to think better of what he was going to say, and fell silent, his eyes returning to the sight of so many chain mail clad soldiers bearing swords and spears, shifting restively amongst themselves.
She tapped the back of his hand lightly, braced as it was on top of the low wall, to gain his attention and to get him to look at her. There was something Katharine had wanted to say for several days, and now, she finally found the words needed to say it. "Magus, when my father died, after my assuming his place as mistress of Castle Wyvern, you swore fealty to me, to serve me in all things. Do you remember?"
He nodded. "Yes, your Highness."
Katharine bit her lip. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to say to anyone, but it had to be said, she knew that. Katharine struggled to make her wavering voice heard over the insistent, ominous booms of the battering ram. "I…I release you from those oaths, Magus." His eyes widened in incredulity. "You need not bear me loyalty; you are not obliged to serve me any longer."
Abruptly, almost angrily, the Magus turned away, shaking his head as though trying to fight off some invisible beast. "It takes two to make or break an oath," he said quietly in a throbbing voice. "I think you will find you are missing a party in this case. You may release me from any oath of fealty, your Highness, but I will not release myself."
"Why?!" Katharine exclaimed, her voice tinting the air with outrage and anguish.
He raised a hand to defend himself. "Katharine—" the plain use of her Christian name on the Magus's part was enough to startle Katharine, since he used it so rarely "—I have said it before. I will say it again. I will not leave you, and I have no intention of leaving you to Constantine or his men."
In the implication ran the knowledge of what was the usual fate of women captives in war, and Katharine shuddered away from it.
"Why?" she asked again, weakly, a different 'why' that would require different answers. "Soldiers are invariably superstitious. They fear to harm one who practices magic; you would come away from the experience completely unscathed. By my side you can only find death." Katharine stared pleadingly at him, desperately trying to make him understand. "No one is worth that, Magus, let alone me."
The Magus sighed deeply, and amazingly, he smiled. "Your Highness…Any place on earth, any at all, if it has you there, than it must be a better place. As it is, I have little left to offer you but my life, and that I offer gladly. And if that is the only way I can serve you, than so be it."
"Well, I must say, you are more given to foolishly romantic notions than I ever thought humanly possible, Magus, but for my part I am glad to have you here." Katharine smiled too, and for a moment, it was nothing but a silent, happy moment.
Then, the great oak door began to give way, splintering. Katharine's heart stopped, than pounded out of control in her chest; her face went utterly white. She clutched the Magus's arm in a death grip; his hand closed over hers. "Magus," Katharine whispered, breathing hard, yet barely able to draw breath. "Thank you."
The Magus tried to say something to her, but his voice was lost over the thunderous crash that to Katharine sounded like the end of the world.