A/N: hope ya'll liked the last chapter, because the shit is going to hit the fan.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Arturia dreamed. She dreamed she was warm and well cared for. She dreamed of the days when she was a child and Merlin had come to take her away. At that time, her mother had taken to full out ignoring her cries, even when she knew she couldn't be ignored. Arturia had given up all hope of ever gaining her mother's care. Merlin had come one day and smiled at her gently and picked her up. She tried to hide from him, but he picked her up and put her on his shoulders. She was so high up!
She remembered the smell of his hair smelled like magic to her then. She had known he was a famous wizard, famous for working with her father, famous for being an excellent wizard. When he walked away from the home she had come to be afraid of, he carried her still on his shoulders as if she weighed nothing. She was so small, so tiny, that she doubted she weighed much to begin with. She could still remember the feeling of watching him create a portal and take her to his home. She remembered the toys he bought for her to play with, though she hardly knew what to do with them. Eventually, she simply destroyed them because she became frustrated by them. It wasn't that she was stupid, it was that they didn't do what she wanted them to.
She nuzzled against the soft pillow and mumbled as she smelled the scent of Cuchulainn in it. She smiled warmly and curled around it as though it were him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it slowly dawned on her that it was indeed a pillow and something was wrong. However, sleep was hard to shove off and it was far too pleasant being in her dreams.
She opened her eyes slowly and stretched, yawning. As she sat up, she looked blearily at the spot where Cuchulainn had been. It was cold there now. He had to have left long before she ever woke.
Sudden realization took hold of her senses. She was alone in bed. The shackles were empty and all she had left to her was the strange pleasant feeling he had left her with that she was cared for. Had he simply had sex with her just so he could get away?!
She shot out of her bed and pulled on her underdress and over dress. She pulled on her boots and stockings, her cloak, and left with her hood pulled up; her sword strapped to her side and black armor starting to cover her body. She didn't bother going for her helmet, she simply trudged out the main doors, past Merlin and Emiya, to the stables.
"My queen!" cried Emiya. "Where are you going?!"
"I have something I must see to personally, Emiya. You stay here!" she snarled. Emiya jumped back at the rage that was building inside her tiny frame.
"Arturia, what has happened?" asked Merlin.
"Leave me be, Merlin," she snapped and then swung herself up onto her saddle. "I have only the rest of this day to accomplish my task!" The horse reared up and Merlin had to move back quickly to keep from being hit.
Emiya helped him up and watched as Arturia galloped off with her cloak flying behind her. "She's pissed."
"I don't think that's quite the phrase, Emiya Shirou," said Merlin, frowning, "But very close."
Cuchulainn had to rest. He had been running since early that morning, had blown through three towns already and he still wasn't any closer to the water than he was that morning. He groaned and lay down and ate some of the food he stole. It wasn't much, but he couldn't afford to take much with him. He had to keep moving as fast as he possibly could to get to Ireland before things really got bad back home. After all, it was more than likely no coincidence that some Arab or Babylonian or whatever those people called themselves now had come through and killed his wife!
He pulled on a pair of trousers under his kilt to keep his legs warm in the freezing weather. He always did hate the cold. Ireland was far warmer than this land and he preferred home to it.
When he was warm enough, he took a nap to make certain he was well rested before he tried his body's stamina to its limits once more. He had amazing stores of energy that he hardly ever tapped into except when making love and that was usually only tested when he had a woman who was exceptionally tiring as well or more than one woman to deal with.
With that in mind, he leaned back against a tree and fell asleep.
The sound of Arturia's heart pounded inside her own head. She felt a great emptiness filling her inside and making her feel cold and angry. She couldn't think, she could only keep moving through the towns, looking for Cuchulainn. She had to find him! Her horse was close to collapsing from exhaustion so she traded it off for a good stallion in Yewark. Then, she continued riding until that one was close to dropping.
When she reached Stonecraft, she traded the horse she had from Yewark for another good steed and set off once more. The horses foamed at the mouth from how hard she drove them. Cuchulainn had several hours for a head start and she knew that he could run as fast as or faster than the best horses around. He was faster than humanly possible and he hardly ever tapped into that strength of his unless he felt it was absolutely necessary.
Damn that Irish hero and all the things she had ever felt for him! She would teach him a lesson in pain that he would never forget!!
Cuchulainn dreamed peacefully. He dreamed of his days as a young man, becoming a hero, finding Emer, of the legends he had heard as a child and how they sounded like something he wanted to be. He always knew he was destined to be a hero, to be the King of Heroes of Ireland, one day. He would be the greatest in all Ireland's history and no one else would be able to rival him. Though he knew one day he would die and die soon, for having such greatness would lead to his early demise, he lived life to the fullest possible extent that he could have.
It was the reason for his love of women who caught his rather hard to attract interest. It was the reason he could run around like a child and laugh as loud as one. He did not care; he could not care that he may look ridiculous or childish. He did things as he felt he should do them for one day he would die and that would be the end of his great adventures.
As he dreamed, he remembered the feeling of Aife when he made love to her, the feeling of Emer as she wrapped herself around him and smiled warmly at him, of Sgatha and any number of other women that brought him some small amount of happiness. Then, he remembered the feeling of Arturia. He had grown attached to the little queen, enjoyed the look of warmth she gave him in her bed. It could not have been any better a moment for him to see her gaze so lovingly at him. Were he not so worried about the words she spoke of his wife, he might have stayed longer, for he doubted she would get her fill of him any time soon, however, he would request she keep the shackles off more often, for he hated them.
With that in mind, he woke up and headed off once more.
Emiya pulled on a cloak and packed some food for himself. When he left his small bed, he went off to the stables and saddled up. The queen had left in such a rush that both he and Merlin were worried for the state of her mind. She had not eaten and had not done most things that one would when they woke up. The shackles were empty when he looked into the room to see what she had left. His spare cloak was gone and some of the food he had left out for himself that morning was gone.
In conclusion, Cuchulainn had managed to escape and his queen was beyond angry and into a full out rage. He had only seen her that angry before once and had cared not to see it again. He didn't care about who got in her way, but he cared what she might do to herself should she get hurt while chasing after the rogue!
Cuchulainn stopped when he heard something. He frowned and looked around. He knew he was making pretty deep tracks from the way he was running, but knew that whoever came after him would likely not be able to catch up. Even Emiya, the lapdog, would not be able to keep up with him!
When he saw nothing, he jogged a little bit to get back into speed again, his breaths coming out in clouds in front of him as it froze. He was sweating terribly from the strain her put himself through, but he was barely winded, truthfully. He stopped for a moment more to get his heart back to a normal pace and judge the direction he was headed in.
The sound of horse hooves pounded hard behind him. He frowned and wondered who might be coming through, for it could not have been anyone who was following after him from Camelot. Whoever it was was traveling at a speed equal to his own on a horse!
The image of a black cloak flying behind a woman with pale gold hair and black veins of something unnatural creeping up her cheeks caught his attention. Arturia pulled her sword out and Cuchulainn made a break for it into the forest trees. She darted around trees after him and swung at branches that got into her way. Cuchulainn zigzagged as well as he could to keep running. The woman was MAD!
He found himself running into a clearing of snow and stumbled over a root, falling onto his face. She stopped her horse and dismounted with sword still in her hand. He rolled over and got to his feet quickly, Gae Bolg appearing in his hand as he called to it. "Stay back, little queen! I must leave to Ireland so I may see who has taken my wife away from me!"
She gazed at him with eyes that fair glowed with rage. Her entire face was a frozen mask of contempt toward him. When she spoke, it was with a voice as chilly as her face. "I do not care why you left, hound, or for your wife."
He felt a sharp stab in his heart at this and frowned, pointing the spear down toward the ground and gathered energy at its tip. He didn't want to hurt her, but for all he had in his heart, he could not let her stop him from the task he had to pursue. With a speed that he had been keeping since he had left Camelot, he darted forward and jabbed her with his spear. She dodged it and swung the sword around and caught him on his side. He cried out in pain and jumped back to avoid another blow.
He bled profusely from his side, but he could live if he got away now. "Why are you doing this?! You got what you wanted from me and now I need to go back home! Are you trying to start some sort of war with Ireland?!"
He yelped and moved away fast as she ran at him and swung that great sword of hers which pulsed with her heart beat. It was slow and steady, not beating fast like a person who was in the middle of a battle. It was the beat of a cold blooded killer!
He dodged another blow and struck out with his spear. He caught her in her shoulder before stumbling back to avoid another hit. "Don't fight me, woman! I don't want to kill you!"
Her eyes were wild with rage as she brought a clawed gauntlet covered hand up to her shoulder. A red light pulsed from it and she pulled her hand away to reveal that the wound had sealed itself up. Horror struck, Cuchulainn started running again. There was no way he could fight a woman with the ability to heal the wounds made by his cursed spear!! Not with the wild, blinding, rage she seemed to have toward him!
He cried out as a blow to his back shoved him into the snow. He rolled away and got up onto his knees, jabbing Arturia into the back with his spear. He moved away as she lashed out at him with her black sword and ran around her to come at her again. If he had to fight her, by whatever gods blessed him there were, he was going to win this!
He grabbed some snow and rolled onto the ground to dodge a swing made by her and threw the snow into her face before swinging his spear up. She jumped back and growled unnaturally from her throat as she wiped the snow from her face. She glared at him through her hair as he grinned faintly at her. "Don't fight me and you won't get hurt anymore, little queen. I'm not Ireland's champion for nothing!"
She pulled her sword up and then swung it around in a strange movement. He saw the sword separate and pull apart as though it were a whip and then she snapped it out at him. He yelped in surprise as he dodged it, ducking and rolling and jumping to keep from getting hit by the dangerous blade. He blocked what he could with his spear before he realized that she was getting closer to him. He needed distance from her!
He ran when she got too close and went back into the forest to lose her. She took after him at a speed he had never seen from her before. It was as though he were outrunning his own shadow!
He cried out when a branch in front of him slammed into him. He saw her come up from behind him and saw her hand held out as though she had cast a spell. He thought she wasn't a witch!
He tasted blood in his mouth from the blow and rolled onto his hands and knees to get up. Her eyes were going white as the black crept up the sides of her face. She no longer looked human, but demonic instead.
"What have I done to you, damnable woman?! I've done nothing but take what you have given me and forced onto me!" he snarled, starting to grow from the rage building inside him.
She kept coming toward him and he stood his ground, for his war spasm was starting to take over now and he cared not for any more excuses. "Come any closer, you stupid woman, and I'll rip you apart!" he roared.
He cried out in pain. He had not seen her move, but now his leg was gone and he was on the ground, bleeding heavily from his missing leg. She stood over him with a dead look in her white eyes and her cold face. He panted through gritted teeth and swung out at her with his fist. She didn't even budge; he simply hit the plate armor and bounced off her without so much as a dent to reward his effort. How could such a small woman handle a man like him without even cringing!?
"Why! Why are you doing this! Did I not do what you want?!" he snarled and spat at her.
She gazed down at him for a moment and grabbed his arm when he swung out at her again. He yelped when she stomped her armor clad boot down onto his chest and shoved her heel into his ribcage. "You offend my eyes," she said, "As you do my senses." Her voice was colder than cold as she held his arm up with little effort even as he jerked at her trying to free himself.
He heard it rather than felt it. He heard bone snap and tissues ripping. He heard the sickening sound of his own arm being ripped off and watched her as she flung it away from him before actual pain hit him. He shouted in pain and hit at her with his other fist to get her off. She did not get off him. Instead, she reached down and grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up in a swift move.
"You offend me with those eyes," she said softly before kicking him on his wounded leg. "You offend me with those eyes, so I'll take one out and cease the offense."
The screams of Cuchulainn could be heard all over the hills and mountains, all over the forests for miles around as Arturia's clawed gauntlet covered hand scraped away at the left side of his face until she jabbed her fingers into his eye socket and ripped his offending eye out of it. She looked at it and crushed it in her hand with a sickening pop as blood and fluids dripped down her gauntlet. Then, she threw Cuchulainn away from her at a tree and picked up her sword.
However, something had happened that she had not anticipated. A light in the air swallowed up Cuchulainn and made him disappear where he landed. She frowned and walked over to where she had seen him disappear and reached a hand out into the air. Where had her little toy gone? Where had the little offending piece of filth gone off to?
In another bright, blinding flash, her surroundings disappeared in front of her; changing from woods and snow covered ground to that of stone walls and strange people. My, things were turning out far more irritating than she had thought!