Title: Le Morte D'Obscurité (The Death of Darkness): The Legends of Sir Mulder
Author: Starbuck23
Spoilers: none
Setting: about 830 AD, during Arthurian times, but Arthur and the rest of his lot doesn't exist in some made up place that's supposed to be like Great Britain, but isn't.
Disclaimer: I don't know why I even bother doing disclaimers anymore. Obviously the majority of the characters are not mine. What a waste of words...
Notes: This is an assignment for my mythology and legend class at school. We've been studying Arthurian legend and for our final we have to write our own legend. Luckily, it can be about anything we want it to be as long as we incorporate things that Sir Thomas Malory did in his book Le Morte D'Arthur, so I'm sorry if this is a bit odd (but isn't all of my work?) but I'm doing the best I can!
1. The Beginning
From as far back as anyone could remember evil ruled the kingdom. His rule by fear and ignorance gave him absolute power over all that went on in the land. Since no one could remember his real name, he was called the Smoking Lord or the Smoking Man for there always seemed to be an ominous smoky mist around him. No one dared to defy him for fear of punishment from his dark knights who rampaged across the countryside terrorizing and pillaging castles and small villages. His castle, the largest in the kingdom, loomed menacingly over the terrain, casting a foreboding shadow over all. No one could escape feeling his evil presence.
There was only one man who the Smoking Man had no control over and only one man who did not fear him. That man was known only as Deep Throat. He was a prophet and a wizard, though with only limited powers. The Smoking Man called upon him as his prophet and used his abilities to foresee what course history would take during the long drawn battles and wars of the evil king and if the future was unfavorable, how the Smoking Man could avoid it. No one knew why Deep Throat helped heighten the Smoking Man's power, since Deep Throat was a good man. Some speculated that he had his reasons and that they would be unveiled sooner or later. Only time would tell.
It was a frigid winter evening when the event that would eventually change the lives of those in the Smoking Man's region occurred. The hills and trees already hid the last glimmers of the sun. The Smoking Man had called Deep Throat in to inform him of what was to happen if he invaded King Skinner's small kingdom of Quequeg the next day. Deep Throat was staring blankly into the fireplace, the light casting strange, flickering shadows over his face. The Smoking Man paced in front of the entrance of the room, keeping an eye on Deep Throat while running over different battle plans in his head. The room was very damp and chilly, the tapestries hung on the wall were very ineffective and the little fire in one of the few fireplaces in the kingdom gave little heat. Neither of the two men took notice.
After a long interval of silence, a strange look went over Deep Throat's face. He narrowed his eyes, gazing more intently into the fire. The Smoking Man took notice and stopped pacing.
"What is it?" he asked impatiently.
The prophet shifted his gaze over to the dark king but remained silent.
"Well?"
"There is a child," began Deep Throat slowly.
"A child is going to disrupt my plans for Quequeg and their idiotic king Skinner?" the smoking man said, knowing better than to interrupt.
"No, there is a child, a very young child who belongs to Sir Mulder. This child will be raised to become one of the greatest knights known to this land. He will be a noble and righteous knight, full of chivalry and courage. He will quest for the truth and he will succeed. His quest for the truth will begin the crumbling of your power and reign as king and his son will sent it crashing down."
At first, a look of surprise registered on his face, but it quickly disappeared. "Do you really believe a insignificant bantam child will destroy me?" asked the Smoking Man calmly. He turned to his squire who was posted at the door.
"Go to the knights. Inform them that I am commanding them to ride down to the Mulder castle and kill every single person they meet; tell them to take special care to exterminate every one of the males. I want the entire castle and all of the possessions inside destroyed."
The squire left and he turned back to Deep Throat; a rare, thin smile distorted his face.
"The child cannot bring to me my demise if I have already brought him his."
Deep Throat said nothing, once more looking into the flames.
Satisfied, the Smoking Man looked out the window to see his knights riding their usual black horses and clad in black armor gallop out towards the path that would lead them to the destruction of the Mulder kin.
"Now for that invasion tomorrow..." said the Smoking Man turning back to Deep Throat.
But Deep Throat was already gone.
One minute he had been in the Smoking Man's castle, and the next deep in the forest in the eastern side of the kingdom. Deep Throat walked a short distance to a small clearing not too far from a calm, narrow river. He then made a few preparations, checked to see if everything was set, and disappeared again.
An instant later, Deep Throat was outside of the castle gates to the Mulder's home. Sweeping past the oblivious guards, he walked through the near deserted court, for dark was falling, and strode purposefully into the modest castle past brave knights who talked jovially with one another and pretty ladies preparing to retire for the night. Invisible to the bustling common hall of the castle, Deep Throat quickly made his way up the stone staircase in the far corner of the hall feeling the air cool as he distanced himself from the mass of people below.
The upstairs hallway was much darker than the common hall below. Fewer torches burned with more distance between each. The pools of light engulfed by shadow created a moody atmosphere and helped keep Deep Throat hidden, it being much easier to be invisible in dark than light. Although there were a number of rooms in the hallway, Deep Throat knew exactly where find what he was looking for. He made his way to the last doorway on the east.
It was a small chamber with just enough room for a table, two chairs, and a small bed. The bed was what most interested Deep Throat. Tucked under the covers was a small brown haired boy of about two years of age. After a moment of hesitation, Deep Throat gently picked the child up and carried him in his arms, resting the boy's head on his shoulder and covered him up with his cloak. Then he quickly made his way out of the bedroom and carefully back down the stairs.
Descending the stairs, he heard yelling, screaming, and sounds of confusion announcing the arrival of the dark king's knights. Though they were of no threat to him, Deep Throat picked up his pace. He didn't want to stay longer than he had to.
He finished with the stairs and had made his way down the common hall avoiding the massacre of the black knight's swords and the blood of both men and women. He was nearing the exit of the death filled castle when something stirred inside him and made him stop. Something was telling him to turn around. Go get the daughter, it said. Deep Throat turned around.
Not too far from the entrance was Sir Krycek, the Smoking Man's head knight, standing over the unarmed and impaled body of Sir Mulder, the lord of the castle. Behind Krycek were Lady Mulder, now widowed, and her young daughter, Samantha. Lady Mulder, not wanting to leave her dead husband, was ready to stand her ground and defy Krycek, but she pushed and urged Samantha away towards the door.
Deep Throat hurried over to the girl and enveloped her with his cloak as Krycek turned to her mother. He whispered to her to be silent and tried to turn her away, but not soon enough. Both became witnesses to the murder of Lady Mulder. Samantha Mulder stood frozen stiff in shock as she looked at the bodies of her dead parents now lying side by side.
He moved to obscure the bodies from the girl's view and delicately pried her away from the spot on the floor she was rooted to. A second later they were in the forest, miles away from the Mulder castle, which from then on would be known as the Dolorous Castle. The girl didn't seem to notice. She stared straight ahead as if she was still staring at the corpses that were her parents. Deep Throat gently nudged her on.
After a few long, silent minutes they came to the small clearing and the hut that Deep Throat had prepared earlier. He led the girl into the lighted and warm hut where a fire was already roaring in the pit. The hut was small, but roomy. The fire pit in the middle had a kettle from which Deep Throat poured some warm drink into a mug and handed to the girl. Two small beds were against the east wall underneath a small window where Deep Throat laid down the boy who was still sleeping. There were two tables opposite the bed, one of which had a pot, a pan, a few dishes, and silverware. Shelves lined the walls, which held enough provisions to feed two full-grown adults for a few days.
Deep Throat, seeing that the boy was now safe in bed again and the girl coming to her senses again, moved towards the door. Samantha's head jerked towards him.
"You're not leaving us, are you?" her small voice held a trace of a quiver. She had her mother's strength and courage. It was a trait that would be found in her brother too.
Deep Throat put a finger to his lips and shushed her.
Samantha gave him a forlorn look.
"Take care, and watch after your brother," he said and vanished from the room knowing that she would, but that he would never see her alive again.
Author: Starbuck23
Spoilers: none
Setting: about 830 AD, during Arthurian times, but Arthur and the rest of his lot doesn't exist in some made up place that's supposed to be like Great Britain, but isn't.
Disclaimer: I don't know why I even bother doing disclaimers anymore. Obviously the majority of the characters are not mine. What a waste of words...
Notes: This is an assignment for my mythology and legend class at school. We've been studying Arthurian legend and for our final we have to write our own legend. Luckily, it can be about anything we want it to be as long as we incorporate things that Sir Thomas Malory did in his book Le Morte D'Arthur, so I'm sorry if this is a bit odd (but isn't all of my work?) but I'm doing the best I can!
1. The Beginning
From as far back as anyone could remember evil ruled the kingdom. His rule by fear and ignorance gave him absolute power over all that went on in the land. Since no one could remember his real name, he was called the Smoking Lord or the Smoking Man for there always seemed to be an ominous smoky mist around him. No one dared to defy him for fear of punishment from his dark knights who rampaged across the countryside terrorizing and pillaging castles and small villages. His castle, the largest in the kingdom, loomed menacingly over the terrain, casting a foreboding shadow over all. No one could escape feeling his evil presence.
There was only one man who the Smoking Man had no control over and only one man who did not fear him. That man was known only as Deep Throat. He was a prophet and a wizard, though with only limited powers. The Smoking Man called upon him as his prophet and used his abilities to foresee what course history would take during the long drawn battles and wars of the evil king and if the future was unfavorable, how the Smoking Man could avoid it. No one knew why Deep Throat helped heighten the Smoking Man's power, since Deep Throat was a good man. Some speculated that he had his reasons and that they would be unveiled sooner or later. Only time would tell.
It was a frigid winter evening when the event that would eventually change the lives of those in the Smoking Man's region occurred. The hills and trees already hid the last glimmers of the sun. The Smoking Man had called Deep Throat in to inform him of what was to happen if he invaded King Skinner's small kingdom of Quequeg the next day. Deep Throat was staring blankly into the fireplace, the light casting strange, flickering shadows over his face. The Smoking Man paced in front of the entrance of the room, keeping an eye on Deep Throat while running over different battle plans in his head. The room was very damp and chilly, the tapestries hung on the wall were very ineffective and the little fire in one of the few fireplaces in the kingdom gave little heat. Neither of the two men took notice.
After a long interval of silence, a strange look went over Deep Throat's face. He narrowed his eyes, gazing more intently into the fire. The Smoking Man took notice and stopped pacing.
"What is it?" he asked impatiently.
The prophet shifted his gaze over to the dark king but remained silent.
"Well?"
"There is a child," began Deep Throat slowly.
"A child is going to disrupt my plans for Quequeg and their idiotic king Skinner?" the smoking man said, knowing better than to interrupt.
"No, there is a child, a very young child who belongs to Sir Mulder. This child will be raised to become one of the greatest knights known to this land. He will be a noble and righteous knight, full of chivalry and courage. He will quest for the truth and he will succeed. His quest for the truth will begin the crumbling of your power and reign as king and his son will sent it crashing down."
At first, a look of surprise registered on his face, but it quickly disappeared. "Do you really believe a insignificant bantam child will destroy me?" asked the Smoking Man calmly. He turned to his squire who was posted at the door.
"Go to the knights. Inform them that I am commanding them to ride down to the Mulder castle and kill every single person they meet; tell them to take special care to exterminate every one of the males. I want the entire castle and all of the possessions inside destroyed."
The squire left and he turned back to Deep Throat; a rare, thin smile distorted his face.
"The child cannot bring to me my demise if I have already brought him his."
Deep Throat said nothing, once more looking into the flames.
Satisfied, the Smoking Man looked out the window to see his knights riding their usual black horses and clad in black armor gallop out towards the path that would lead them to the destruction of the Mulder kin.
"Now for that invasion tomorrow..." said the Smoking Man turning back to Deep Throat.
But Deep Throat was already gone.
One minute he had been in the Smoking Man's castle, and the next deep in the forest in the eastern side of the kingdom. Deep Throat walked a short distance to a small clearing not too far from a calm, narrow river. He then made a few preparations, checked to see if everything was set, and disappeared again.
An instant later, Deep Throat was outside of the castle gates to the Mulder's home. Sweeping past the oblivious guards, he walked through the near deserted court, for dark was falling, and strode purposefully into the modest castle past brave knights who talked jovially with one another and pretty ladies preparing to retire for the night. Invisible to the bustling common hall of the castle, Deep Throat quickly made his way up the stone staircase in the far corner of the hall feeling the air cool as he distanced himself from the mass of people below.
The upstairs hallway was much darker than the common hall below. Fewer torches burned with more distance between each. The pools of light engulfed by shadow created a moody atmosphere and helped keep Deep Throat hidden, it being much easier to be invisible in dark than light. Although there were a number of rooms in the hallway, Deep Throat knew exactly where find what he was looking for. He made his way to the last doorway on the east.
It was a small chamber with just enough room for a table, two chairs, and a small bed. The bed was what most interested Deep Throat. Tucked under the covers was a small brown haired boy of about two years of age. After a moment of hesitation, Deep Throat gently picked the child up and carried him in his arms, resting the boy's head on his shoulder and covered him up with his cloak. Then he quickly made his way out of the bedroom and carefully back down the stairs.
Descending the stairs, he heard yelling, screaming, and sounds of confusion announcing the arrival of the dark king's knights. Though they were of no threat to him, Deep Throat picked up his pace. He didn't want to stay longer than he had to.
He finished with the stairs and had made his way down the common hall avoiding the massacre of the black knight's swords and the blood of both men and women. He was nearing the exit of the death filled castle when something stirred inside him and made him stop. Something was telling him to turn around. Go get the daughter, it said. Deep Throat turned around.
Not too far from the entrance was Sir Krycek, the Smoking Man's head knight, standing over the unarmed and impaled body of Sir Mulder, the lord of the castle. Behind Krycek were Lady Mulder, now widowed, and her young daughter, Samantha. Lady Mulder, not wanting to leave her dead husband, was ready to stand her ground and defy Krycek, but she pushed and urged Samantha away towards the door.
Deep Throat hurried over to the girl and enveloped her with his cloak as Krycek turned to her mother. He whispered to her to be silent and tried to turn her away, but not soon enough. Both became witnesses to the murder of Lady Mulder. Samantha Mulder stood frozen stiff in shock as she looked at the bodies of her dead parents now lying side by side.
He moved to obscure the bodies from the girl's view and delicately pried her away from the spot on the floor she was rooted to. A second later they were in the forest, miles away from the Mulder castle, which from then on would be known as the Dolorous Castle. The girl didn't seem to notice. She stared straight ahead as if she was still staring at the corpses that were her parents. Deep Throat gently nudged her on.
After a few long, silent minutes they came to the small clearing and the hut that Deep Throat had prepared earlier. He led the girl into the lighted and warm hut where a fire was already roaring in the pit. The hut was small, but roomy. The fire pit in the middle had a kettle from which Deep Throat poured some warm drink into a mug and handed to the girl. Two small beds were against the east wall underneath a small window where Deep Throat laid down the boy who was still sleeping. There were two tables opposite the bed, one of which had a pot, a pan, a few dishes, and silverware. Shelves lined the walls, which held enough provisions to feed two full-grown adults for a few days.
Deep Throat, seeing that the boy was now safe in bed again and the girl coming to her senses again, moved towards the door. Samantha's head jerked towards him.
"You're not leaving us, are you?" her small voice held a trace of a quiver. She had her mother's strength and courage. It was a trait that would be found in her brother too.
Deep Throat put a finger to his lips and shushed her.
Samantha gave him a forlorn look.
"Take care, and watch after your brother," he said and vanished from the room knowing that she would, but that he would never see her alive again.