56
Myrnin's Choice
After Regina's ultimatum had been delivered, Rumple decided to increase the wards and protective magics over the castle, as well as having Bae and Charming once again accompany Jeff and Alice when they escorted Snow to school. He wasn't exactly sure if or when Regina would decide to try something, but he knew the value of being prepared, and so when the children were at school for the next two weeks, he walked his lands, from the border of the Mystic Wood to the Shepherd's cottage, to the western boundary where the de Brabante's rented their house and the path that led to Valley Way. And as he did so, he "spoke" with the resident land spirits that dwelled there, and their forest cousins, explaining to them why he was increasing the wards and asking if they would keep watch for him and warn him if any dark creature or enemy tried to cross over his boundaries. The spirits agreed, for it was their home as well, and they wanted no dark creature to disrupt the balance. As payment for their vigilance, Rumple took his knife and scored his hand three times with it, making three parallel cuts, then allowing his blood to drip onto the soil in certain spots.
"With my blood and my magic, I renew my contract with the land, and those who dwell within it," he chanted softly. "Let my renewal strengthen the land and avert all darkness."
"We hear and accept your sacrifice, Gold sorcerer," came the silvery otherworldly voices of the spirits. "It shall be done as you command."
With the wards renewed, stronger than before, Rumple then turned his mind to thinking about the castle defenses. The Dark Castle was very old, having been built centuries past to house the first of the cursed sorcerers, and it had been built as a fortress, to keep people out and not welcome them inside. It was only since he had donned the mantle and come there with his children that the castle became a home and not a forbidding prison. Many of the castle's former magical defenses he'd let lapse, because they were too dangerous to have active with young children around. But someday soon he would have to look into renewing a few of them if necessary . . . or creating new ones.
He walked back across the yard, feeling the thrumming within the earth that signified active magic, his hand wrapped in a handkerchief. He could have mended the cuts on his hand in an instant, but did not do so, preferring to let them heal naturally, as they were a sign of his sacrifice, his willingness to shed his blood to protect his family. It was the only kind of blood magic he practiced these days.
When he entered the kitchen, he found that Granny was there along with Belle, coming for her weekly visit to examine his now vastly pregnant wife. They were drinking tea and eating some of Ivy's currant almond cake.
"How's she doing, Granny?" he asked the older woman.
"Quite well. Those babies are very active now," the old woman chuckled.
"Good. And the spotting, has it stopped?"
"Ah. You told him then?" Granny shot Belle a shrewd look.
"He saw it, one morning when I got up," Belle admitted.
"I was the one who insisted she call you," Rumple said, coming to sit down next to Belle. "She wanted to wait."
"Because I've seen it before, with my other patients," Belle said, rolling her eyes. "And it wasn't that bad. I knew you would get all frazzled, Rum."
He frowned at her. "I was not getting all frazzled," he objected. "I was concerned because you were suddenly bleeding, Belle, andI might not be a Healer or a midwife, but I know damn well that's never a good sign."
"Be that as it may, she's fine now, Rumple," Granny said, breaking in before the conversation could get too heated. "Just make sure she stays off her feet and doesn't do too much until February and she should deliver right on schedule, about thirty-seven or thirty-eight weeks."
"I thought it was forty," Rumple said.
"Usually, yes. But not with twins. They come earlier," Granny informed him.
Bae came into the kitchen then, his hair curling and slightly damp from the bath he'd just taken following a vigorous training session with Alice. "Hey, Granny. How're you keeping?"
"Fine, Bae. You look chipper this afternoon."
"Alice's sparring sessions will do that," he said, smiling as he made himself a sandwich of leftover beef brisket, tomato, cheese, and mustard. He added some baked salted kale chips along with it and sat down to eat it across from Belle and his father, pouring himself a cup of cold cider as well. "How's Mom doing?"
Granny chuckled and Belle sighed. "You and your father. The both of you are going to worry yourselves to death. I'm fine, Bae."
He looked over at Granny. "Is she?"
Belle glared at him indignantly. "Don't you trust your mother, Baelfire?"
He slowly shook his head. "Not when it comes to your own health. You're a Healer, Mom, you take care of people till you're dropping dead. So, is she?"
Granny snickered. "She's fine, boy."
"Good. That's all I wanted to know," her son said, and took a bite of his sandwich.
"He's got you there, dearie," Rumple chuckled.
Belle kicked his ankle under the table. "Who asked you, Rum?" she demanded tartly. Then her eyes fixed on his hand. "What did you do to your hand?"
"Ritual magic, dearie," he answered softly. "I needed to do some renewing of the boundary wards and such. It's nothing."
"Let me see it. Before you drop dead of blood poisoning," Belle ordered, pulling her husband's hand onto the table and unwrapping the handkerchief he had wrapped about it. She examined the shallow slashes, saying, "Hmm. Not too deep, but I want to make sure it doesn't become infected. Bae, fetch me my bag."
Bae rose to do as she'd said, and Rumple protested softly, "Belle, I'm fine. I can put something on it later, really . . ."
"Hush, you! I'm the Healer and I say it gets fixed up now," she told him.
"My gods, you're stubborn."
"So sue me," she snorted.
Bae returned with her medical satchel and she quickly removed some bandages, some ointment, and some yarrow wash from it, along with a clean cloth. "Now be good and let me clean this and you'll get some candy," she teased.
He rolled his eyes. "How about a kiss?"
"We'll see," she smirked, and gently cleaned the cuts and put some healing ointment on them before wrapping them in a clean bandage. Rumple remained still, not even wincing. She tied the bandage off then bent and kissed his palm. "There! A kiss to make it better."
"Belle! I meant a—"
"I know what you meant, darling. And that can wait till later," she grinned. Then she tucked her satchel beside her foot and resumed drinking her tea.
Granny chortled into her teacup, saying slyly, "Guess I can see who's the real boss in this castle."
"Now wait a minute—" the sorcerer began, but before he could finish his sentence, Clary came into the kitchen.
"Hi, Granny!" she greeted the old woman. "Papa, I'm hungry."
"Well, sit down here by me and have some cake and tea then," he told her, and patted the chair beside him. Then he did a double take as he noticed her for the first time. "Clarissa, what are you . . . how did you . . .?"
For the little girl had stuffed a pillow under her tunic and pair of small trousers and she looked almost as round as her mother. "I'm havin' a baby too, Papa!" she announced. "Like Mama!"
Bae nearly fell off his chair, he was laughing so much.
Rumple bit his lip hard. "Umm . . . Clary, dearie, you can't really—"
Belle put her hand over his mouth. "Hush, Rumple. Let her pretend. It's adorable."
Granny winked at them, a smile creasing her face. "So when are you due, Mistress Clary?"
"Umm . . . in a few days," the little girl declared, crawling up on the chair. "'Cause this baby's heavy and I can barely walk, don'tcha know?"
"Yes, I can see that. It must be a big one," Granny said.
Bae was gasping for breath. He took a drink of cider.
"It is," Clary nodded solemnly. "It's like havin' three babies. An' they jump all over in me an' my back hurts an' I have to pee all the time an' it just sucks!"
"I bet it does," Granny nodded, her eyes twinkling.
Belle burst out laughing, followed by Rumple.
Bae started laughing so hard cider came out his nose. He grabbed a dishcloth sitting beside the tea pot and shoved it over his face. "Oh, gods! I'm going to die!"
Granny whacked him helpfully on the back. "Breathe, boy," she said, snickering a bit herself.
Clary frowned at her big brother. "Hey! It ain't funny, Bae! If you was havin' a baby, I bet you wouldn't be laughing. Right, Mama?"
"You're . . . umm . . . absolutely right, sweetie," Belle managed to say, wiping her eyes on her linen napkin.
"That's why I thank the gods every day for not making me a girl," Bae wheezed, his eyes crinkling with merriment. "Where does she come up with this stuff?"
"It's perfectly normal," Belle said, grinning. "All little children imitate their elders. I'll bet you did too when you were her age."
"He did," Rumple said, smirking. "One day Milah found him all tangled up in my yarn, and when she asked him what he was doing, he said he was trying to spin like papa! Luckily I was there to make sure she didn't haul off and smack you one for making a mess though."
"Papa, please!" Bae said, flushing.
"She would have hit him over that?" Granny asked, frowning.
"Milah had no patience with small children," Rumple said.
"She's an evil hag!" Clary added. "She hit Ivy. She oughta be spanked and sent to bed without dessert."
"Got that right, Clary," Bae snickered.
"She sounds like a shrew," Granny said.
"She is," Rumple sighed. "And I thank the gods I'm no longer married to her. Now she's Hook's headache and he can have her!"
"Bae, can I have some cake?" Clary asked then.
"Sure, imp," he said, and cut her a slice and fixed her a cup of tea that was half milk with a sugar lump in it. "Here."
As Clary ate her cake and drank her tea, Bae finished off his sandwich and chips, while Rumple, Belle, and Granny talked, sharing amusing stories about customers Rumple had dealt with at his potions booth and clueless patients Belle had to diagnose and Granny told stories about the strange habits of her old neighbors.
Bae glanced at Clary and said mischievously, "Hey, snippet, I was going to go ride Flicker and ask you to come, but I forgot . . . girls having babies can't ride horses."
Clary jumped off her chair and said, "Wait a minute." Then she walked into the sitting room.
She returned a few moments later, without the pillow. "Okay! I'm ready, Bae!"
"What happened to your baby?" he snickered.
"It got born already!" she rolled her eyes. "It was a girl and her name's Oralia."
"Damn! That was fast," Rumple murmured, hiding a smirk.
Clary ran over and grabbed her brother's hand. "C'mon, Bae! Let's go for a ride."
"Okay, Clary-belle," he obliged, and picked her up and walked out the back door with her, after first putting his empty plate in the sink.
"She's got him well trained!" Granny hooted.
"She's got them all wrapped about her little finger," Belle smiled. "Including her papa."
"Only sometimes," Rumple protested.
"Uh huh," his loving wife snorted. "And I've got some land in the Enchanted Forest for free."
"Belle! I'm not a pushover, like Rufus Miller!"
"Did I say that, darling? No. But you'd wear yourself to a shadow to make her happy, Rum, and well you know it!" She squeezed his hand under the table. "And we all love you for it, dearie."
Page~*~*~*~Break
Two weeks passed, and during that time Rumple found a strange box left beside the woodpile, and upon inspecting it for curses, found that it was not anything of Regina's making, but a gift instead from the king of the Folk of the Wood. In graceful script it stated that King Ambrosius was very grateful for the care given to his son and this was a token of his appreciation. Inside the box was a glistening suit of silveron mail, a winged hawk helmet, greaves, and a quiver with twenty magically sharp arrows. It was a fine gift, worth a king's ransom, as well it should have been.
But Rumple would have counted it more fitting if the king had come himself to speak with him and thank him himself, as well as show more compassion for his son. But since that was not to be, he took the gift and decided to give the quiver of arrows to Rafe, but only if they needed to defend the castle, because they were battle arrows, and too precious to hunt with. He gave the armor to Bae as his eighteenth birthday present from himself, Belle, Myrnin, and his younger brothers. The girls gave him a new cloak, a shirt, a bag of chocolate drops, and Flicker for his own. Rennie gave him a gold chain with their initials entwined on it.
Bae celebrated his birthday quietly with his family during the day and then went down to the Goose with Charming at night, and also Jefferson. They returned to the castle slightly drunk, in the case of the younger men, and three sheets to the wind in the case of Jefferson. Rumple put them all to bed, though he said to Jeff, "Hells, Jeff, you're not eighteen anymore. What are you doing trying to match those youngsters drink for drink?"
"Aww, shut up, Rum!" Jeff groused, holding his head. "My head hurts."
"You want one of my antidotes?"
"You want me to puke all over your shoes?" Jefferson grumbled.
"Maybe you'd feel better if you did," his friend remarked.
"No thanks. I'll just sleep it off, buddy," Jeff answered.
"Take this with you," Rumple said, handing him a small bucket. "Just in case."
"Yeah, thanks, Dad," Jeff said sarcastically, then took the bucket and retreated to his room.
The next morning all three slept late, woke up and had black coffee and toast, and Charming and Bae were fine afterwards. Jeff, however, looked like death warmed over until two in the afternoon, and grumbled to Rumple, "I should have known better than to belt shots with those young snots down at the Goose."
"I hate to say this, but . . . I told you so," Rumple said.
"Oh, go drown yourself, Rum!" the mercenary sulked, then he drank some of Belle's hangover remedy.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Meanwhile, in the Mystic Wood, the il'Shennara, led by Prince Arion and King Ambrosius, launched a major offensive attack, the largest one attempted by either side during the course of the war. Due to Puck and Myrnin's reconnaissance, they managed to discover where the bulk of the dwarrow holed up during the day, as they couldn't bear the touch of sunlight, it blinded and weakened them, made them dizzy and unable to cast spells and their weapons turned to dust if the sun touched them for more than an hour.
That discovery was the turning point of the war, and led to a major victory, one that almost spelled the end of things for the night elves, as they were taken by surprise and most of their army wiped out, save for those who managed to sneak away, sick and shaking, to hide in the caves farther north. Some of the night elves, the ones who were not with the main encampment, were still free to harass the il'Shennera, but by and large a telling blow had been struck, and Ambrosius counted it a great victory.
He brought Gliringlass back into the timestream then, and the Folk of the Wood returned to the city to feast and dance and celebrate, toasting the king, his sons, and everyone in the army.
Myrnin joined in the celebrations, though he was careful not to indulge too much in the flowing wine at the king's table, like any magic wielder, he knew well the perils of too much alcohol. His brother, however, drank a few toasts, but then Arion had always been more warrior than mage. Even so, the crown prince didn't get very tipsy, nor did the king.
But soon the noise and motion grated on Myrnin's nerves and he retreated to a quiet spot near the Aspen Manse, there to contemplate the stars and the patrol he'd lead in the next day or so, making sure most of the dwarrow were far from Gliringlass. He sat with his legs dangling over the walkway, gazing out at the stars and clasping Ivy's ring, hoping that afterwards he could sneak off and see her again, now that his father was busy reorganizing the city.
He was extremely glad the war was almost over, but his heart was not really in the victory celebrations like the rest of his people. No, his heart was far away, with a certain clever sorceress, and he felt as if he watched the feasting from afar, an observer and not a participant, for all he had helped bring the victory about with his spying.
Soon, a'liri, I can come back. In a few more days, then I'll ask Arion for leave and I can come home to you.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Two evenings later found Myrnin, Puck, and four others of a long range patrol on the border of the Mystic Wood close to the Enchanted Forest kingdom. Some of their dark kin had been spotted near there and Arion had sent Myrnin, Puck, and some their more experienced scouts to find out why. After their defeat, most of the night elves were scattered, trying to regroup but finding it difficult, and Arion wished to make certain no large force ever got back together again to threaten their people.
The il'Shennara scouts were mounted on royal pegasi, the winged horses used by the kingsguard, and they had flown there on their backs. Now they observed from a safe vantage point just above the sweeping purple hill country that marked the border of the Enchanted Forest realm, which despite its name, was not all forest, the way the il'Shennara's territory in the Mystic Wood was.
Myrnin had cast a veil of unseeing about himself and the patrol, so they could watch what went on and not risk taking an arrow in the head or getting slammed by a fireball from one of the dwarrow mages, who called themselves Nightlords.
As they watched quietly, they saw a company of night elves, about one hundred strong, including a dark priest with his dragon skull helmet and four Nightlords wearing the traditional crimson robes of their order, ride out alongside the company commander, straight through the Mystic Wood's border and into the purple hills.
"What are they doing?" Puck asked Myrnin, his slanted eyes grave in his youthful face.
"It looks like they're headed into the Enchanted Forest," Myrnin replied.
"But why?" asked Irilyn, one of his scouts, her blue eyes puzzled. "What business do the dwarrow have with humans?"
Myrnin frowned. "Perhaps they go to meet with that kingdom's monarch. I've heard she practices necromancy and blood magic. Her name is Regina, and she usurped the throne from the rightful heir, Princess Snow White. If anyone would make alliance with the night elves, it's she."
"For what purpose?" Puck wondered.
"Nothing good, that's certain," Myrnin said.
They watched as the last of the night elves disappeared over the brow of the purple hills, and just as Myrnin was about to signal them to turn about, they saw something else astonishing.
A party of seven dwarves and a young man dressed in the green and brown clothing of a huntsman had entered the Mystic Wood, not ten feet from where the dwarrow had been previously.
"Starlight and shadows!" exclaimed another scout, called Therin. "First the dwarrow go to humans and now dwarves and a human enter our borders. What should we do, my prince?"
Myrnin thought fast. "They don't seem dangerous. Perhaps they are seeking to flee that crazy witch. In any case, we should warn them about the dwarrow. I'll go and talk with them. Puck, come with me."
"Talk with them, Prince Merlin?" asked Falithzar, the oldest of the scouts. "What for?"
"So they don't go blundering into a dwarrow's ambush!" Myrnin snapped. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, you know what they do to those they catch. Remember Shaleesha?"
"Yes, my prince," Falithzar murmured, recalling how the dwarrow had captured one of the scouts in their company prior to the great battle and done horrible things to her. It had taken her days to die, and they had only found her when their dark kin were finished with their twisted fun, as she breathed her last, broken and shattered by dark spells and torture.
"Stay here. We won't be long," Myrnin told them, and then he turned his pegasus, Stormrider, and flew across the twenty five feet that separated him from the dwarves and the huntsman.
Puck followed on his pegasus, Snowdrop, an arrow nocked on his bowstring, just in case.
Myrnin landed a few feet before the dwarven party, bidding Stormrider to stay and dismounting, unslinging his bow from his back and holding an arrow in his free hand. Then he made his way through the trees, silent as a ghost. Puck followed suit, shadowing his prince.
Myrnin and Puck waited calmly beneath the trees on the trail the dwarves were taking through them, wincing at how loud they were. They could hear every creak, groan, and stomp of their booted feet as they made their way through the trees.
A large dwarf with a black beard and curly black hair emerged from the trees, carrying a large pick axe over his shoulder. He was followed by six more, looking similar but with different colored hair and accompanying them was a young man with brown hair and a slight mustache on his upper lip, looking to be about twenty, as near as Myrnin could figure it. The man had a yew bow on his back and a hunting knife in a sheath.
"I'm telling you, Grumpy, she's calling in all her reserves for some kind of strike force. She must have found out where the princess is and is gathering an army to get her back," said the huntsman.
"She doesn't want her back, Graham!" snorted the black-haired dwarf. "She wants her dead!"
"But where's she taking her army? Into another kingdom?" asked a dwarf with reddish hair.
"She can't do that, Happy! It'd be a declaration of war," objected another dwarf, this one with white hair.
"Like she cares, Doc!" snorted another with brown hair.
"She's not the only thing you have to worry about, friend," said Myrnin, dropping his glamourie and becoming visible to the dwarves and the huntsman for the first time.
They jumped back, startled at his sudden appearance.
"What . . . who the hell are you?" Graham snapped, drawing his bow.
But before he could even set an arrow to the string, Puck had his bow drawn and said evenly, "Put it away, boy. We aren't your enemies. We've come to warn you of something we saw not twenty yards from here."
"Who are you?" Graham cried, lowering his hands.
"We are il'Shennara scouts," Myrnin answered. "We were patrolling this stretch of the wood when we saw a company of our dark kin near here."
"You saw dwarrow here?" gasped the brown haired dwarf.
"Yes, and not only saw, but tracked them to see where they were going," Myrnin said.
"Where are they?" murmured one dwarf, who then yawned and glanced around fearfully.
"They've gone down into the hills," Puck replied. "But we don't know why, as they are no fonder than most of us of humans."
"How many?" asked Grumpy.
"About a hundred, complete with dark priest and Nightlords—ah—you would say necromancers," Myrnin informed them.
"Great gods! What are they doing, attacking Regina?" asked Graham.
"No, boy. If I had to guess, I'd say they were joining her," spat Grumpy. "Like calls to like, eh?"
"It is what we fear as well," Puck said gravely.
"Regina's allying herself with night elves?" Graham repeated. "What the hell for?"
"Maybe she needs help finding Snow White," stammered a dwarf with a wispy beard and large brown eyes.
"Or maybe she's found where Snow is and needs help defeating whoever's helping her," said a quiet dwarf, then he sneezed several times.
"I know where Snow White is," Myrnin said suddenly.
The dwarves all gasped and stared at him. "H-How do you know that?" squeaked one.
"Yeah, who are you that you'd know that?" demanded Graham suspiciously.
"He is Prince Merlin Emrys Valerion Stormshadow of the il'Shennara, warrior and sorcerer of the royal house, boy!" Puck growled. "Now show some respect!"
All of the dwarves bowed and doffed their caps, and Graham looked flustered and bowed also, muttering, "Sorry, my lord."
Myrnin shot Puck an irritated glance. "Starseekers, Puck! You sound like a farmer whose pet chicken just got insulted. Please, don't bow to me. I'm not your ruler. I came here to warn you about my dark kin, so you didn't walk into an ambush."
"But how do you know Snow, Your Highness?" asked Grumpy.
"Because she is staying with my mentor, Rumplestiltskin Gold, at his castle," Myrnin replied. "I saw her there not three weeks past. He has given her sanctuary."
Graham stared at him. "You must be mistaken! She would never ask sanctuary from the Dark One!"
Myrnin's eyes flashed, and he reached out and grabbed the youth by his tunic collar, hauling him onto his toes and snarling, "Watch how you talk about my mentor, huntsman! He's no dark sorcerer! Say such filth again and I'll make you walk home on four feet instead of two, got me?"
"My prince, silaesha!" Puck cried, coming forward to lay a hand on Myrnin's shoulder. "Myrnin, alt velath mar!" (My prince, easy! Myrnin,let him go!)
"Not till he apologizes for calling Archmagus Gold a dark sorcerer!" Myrnin snarled, his hand twisting on Graham's collar, half-choking the other youth.
"Okay! Okay!" gasped the huntsman. "I'm sorry! Now, please . . . let me breathe!"
Myrnin released his hold on the other's collar, saying, "He was under a curse, he's not now. He's no necromancer. That's the witch yonder!" he spat.
Graham rubbed his throat. "Gods, how was I supposed to know? All I ever heard were stories about the Dark One."
"You should find out facts before you go accusing good men of being Nightlords," Myrnin snapped. Then he subsided when Puck clasped his shoulder. "Sorry, I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I just don't like people talking like that about him. I owe him my life and more."
"If she's at his castle, then it's no wonder Regina's gathering allies," murmured Doc. "She'll need them if she's going to go up against the likes of him."
"Would she dare?" asked Sneezy.
"She'd dare anything, that one," Grumpy said darkly.
"How can we be sure?" asked Bashful.
"Go and find out," Puck said quietly. "Can you do that?"
"We're fugitives," said Sleepy, yawning. "With prices on our heads."
"What for?" asked Myrnin.
"'Cause we refused to declare Regina the rightful ruler of the kingdom," said Graham. "We all know who the true ruler is, and it isn't her! So we're in rebellion against her. Technically, I'm not even a real subject of hers, though I lived here for a time with my mother. She was the one who explained to me about the rightful laws of succession, she was a chambermaid to the old queen, Snow's mother. Once the old queen died, Regina dismissed all her ladies and servants and put her own in their place. That was when my mother married Martin Archer, a sellsword and archer in the company called the Card Captors. My name's Graham Hunter, though it might as well be Archer, as my stepdad raised me since I was three. We traveled all over with his company, until my mother took ill last year and she came back here to recover."
"Did she?" asked Puck softly.
"No," Graham said sadly. "But before she died, she made me promise to always stand up for truth and justice. So that's what I'm doing now, keeping my promise."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Myrnin said. Then he exclaimed, "But . . . isn't that Captain Alice's company?"
"Why, yes, it is. I wrote to my stepfather a few months back and he said they're wintering in Attica, because Alice just signed on a new lieutenant, Jefferson Hatter, one of the best mercs in the business, and they're staying in the village called Valley Way."
"Valley Way is right below the Dark Castle," Myrnin said. "And Jeff and Alice are friends of my mentor and his wife, Lady Belle."
"Belle? Of Avonlea?" Graham gasped.
"She was before she married Rumplestiltskin," Myrnin said.
"I . . . I used to know her and her family . . . before Avonlea was destroyed. Her son, Rafe . . . he used to come and have lessons with my dad in archery. We used to shoot targets together," Graham stammered.
"I know Rafe. We've hunted together. And once I saved him after a stag gored him in the leg," said the half-elf. "He's Rum's adopted son now."
Graham chuckled. "That's amazing!"
"The gods work in mysterious ways, younglings," said Puck. "They put you in each other's path for a reason."
"Can you go back into the Enchanted Forest?" Myrnin queried. "See what my dark cousins and Regina are up to?"
"Well . . . if I'm seen it'll mean my head, but . . . yeah, I can see what the talk is around the city," Graham said.
"No! It's too dangerous!" objected Happy. "You could be killed, Graham!"
"Not if he's not seen," Myrnin said. "I'll cast a glamourie on you, so you'll be able to walk unseen, like one of my people. Then you can go and find out what's going on."
"Let's do it!" Graham said, his eyes shining. "Right now."
"No. You need to wait," Myrnin disagreed. "Until my dark cousins get to wherever they're going. Then you can go in. If they spot you, my glamourie won't hold, since they can see through it, just like we can theirs. Our magics are similar."
"Okay. So I'll wait . . . till the next morning," Graham said. "Then I'll go in. Will your spell last that long?"
"It'll last as long as I want it to," Myrnin smirked. "I could cast glamourie when I was four. Stand still." He placed his hands on Graham's shoulders, then drew them down his body in one swift motion.
Blue sparks gathered and wove themselves through the air and then faded.
"That's it?" Graham looked down at himself. "I don't feel any different."
"You won't. But when you need to hide, you'll be able to walk unseen," Myrnin said.
"My prince, we need to be going. The others will be wondering where we are," Puck reminded him.
"Yes, all right!" Myrnin sighed. "I'll meet you back here at . . . mid-afternoon?"
"That's fine. I should have found something out by then," Graham nodded. "Thanks, my lord."
"Call me Myrnin," he corrected. "All my friends do."
"I'll see you tomorrow then, Myrnin," Graham said.
"Farewell," called Puck, then they vanished into the trees.
Graham whistled then turned to Doc and said, "Hells bells, won't my dad be shocked to hear I've been keeping company with elven princes now? First I was Rafe's playmate and now I'm not only a rabble rouser but an elf-friend."
"You just be careful, boy. Getting involved with elves is a tricky dangerous business," Grumpy growled.
"Like anything else we've been doing isn't?" Graham asked, rolling his eyes. "Come on, we'd better find a place to camp, then get some sleep. I've got to get up early tomorrow."
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
"What did you find out?" asked Myrnin the next afternoon, as he met Graham on the same stretch of trail.
"A lot. There's rumors flying all over the place," Graham said. "And none of them are good, at least from my perspective."
"What are they saying?"
"That Regina's made an alliance with demons. Guess that's your dark cousins. And she's also got a former noble from Avonlea joining her with his own private guard company, Sir Gaston, who used to be married to Princess Belle, before she caught him cheating on her and divorced his ass. Plus whoever else she can grab from her own kingdom to fight for her. Including those filthy pirates, Captain Hook and First Mate Milah. A couple hundred at least she's got. They're supposed to start marching in three or four day's time."
Myrnin looked horrified. "She's bringing all of that against Rumplestiltskin?"
"Looks that way. Guess she really wants Snow dead. And her former advisor, Jeff Hatter, too."
Myrnin shook his head. "Starseekers! He's going to need help. I've got to talk to my father."
"Your father? The king of the Folk of the Wood?"
"Last time I checked. Thanks for the warning. Oh, and the glamourie will wear off in another few days."
"Wait a minute! Where are you going?"
"I told you, to try and talk sense into my stubborn father's hide. And if you really want to help your princess, better move your ass and get to the Dark Castle," Myrnin said sharply.
Before Graham could say anything, he was gone, disappeared like smoke into the trees.
"Damn! I wish I could do that!" the huntsman muttered. Then he went to find the dwarves.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Gliringlass
The Aspen Manse
King Ambrosius' private audience chamber:
"Father, if you have a moment, I need to speak with you," Myrnin said, keeping his tone even and respectful. He stood a few feet beyond the silvery aspen wood desk in his father's chambers, the ones that only family were allowed in. He had managed to take a bath and change into a new uniform before going to see the king, who was currently looking over some maps and plans drawn up by his generals.
Ambrosius looked up at his son, a look of faint annoyance crossing his ageless youthful face. Like all il'Shennara, he appeared to be a mere twenty-five years of age, though in reality he was much older, closer to three hundred, though still young for one of his kind. His long blond hair, the color of aspen leaves in the fall, was bound back by a simple diadem of gold with a single black diamond in it. His pointed ears had crystal drops in them and his emerald eyes were sharp and inscrutable. He wore a simple robe of blue velvet sprinkled with diamond dust, and a pendant with his house crest—an eternity knot wrapped around an aspen tree with a lightning bolt behind it—hung on his neck.
"Can't it wait till later, Myrnin? I need to plan the defense of the city, just in case the dwarrow try and attack us again," he said, his voice clear and cold, like frost melt.
"Father, I need to report something I saw on my last scout."
Ambrosius set down his emerald green quill. "All right. What is it?"
Myrnin coughed. "Sorry, my throat's dry."
"Here. Have some winterberry juice," Ambrosius poured some into one of his chased silver goblets and floated it over to his son.
Myrnin drank it down, then began telling the king about what they had seen on the scout and who he believed the dwarrow were allying themselves with now.
Ambrosius frowned. "And this . . . huntsman you spoke with . . . are you sure he wasn't just spinning you a tale? Sometimes humans find it hard to distinguish fact from fiction."
"I'm sure, Father. Graham wouldn't lie about this. And now Regina and our dark cousins are going to attack the Dark Castle. We have to try and stop them. Or . . . or at least send a company of scouts and archers, maybe even a few home guard if you think we can spare—"
"Stop," the king ordered abruptly. "Myrnin, are you out of your head? Why would you think I have any soldiers to spare to send to the aid of this . . this human conjurer? You know we don't get involved in the affairs of humans."
"But Father! This is different!" Myrnin cried. "It involves our dark cousins too! We're sworn to fight them."
"Which we've been doing for months, young one. And now that we've finally gained ground against them, you want me to get my soldiers involved in a skirmish that's none of my concern?" Ambrosius scowled.
"It is your concern, Father! Archmagus Gold and his wife saved my life!" Myrnin snapped. "They were the human family who gave me shelter and nursed me back to health. Without them I'd be dead now. You owe them, Father!"
"I've already paid my debt to them, child," Ambrosius declared maddeningly. "I owe them nothing more. And neither do you."
"What?" Myrnin gaped at him. "They need our help and you're going to just . . . sit here? At least let me go warn them."
"No. I don't want you involved any longer with these humans. This conversation is over, Myrnin. Go and get some sleep, or practice with your bow." He waved a hand in dismissal.
Myrnin's eyes flashed. "No. Father, you have to listen to me! They've got an army coming to annihilate them. I can't let that happen. They're my friends—"
"Friends? You're a prince of the il'Shennara! I forbid it." Ambrosius' eyes turned glacial.
"You can't, Father! Not only am I friends with them, I'm in love with Ivy Gold, an enchantress, Rumplestiltskin's daughter," Myrnin snapped.
The king stared at his son in horror. Then he rose and came around the desk. "No! What the blazes are you saying? You're bewitched! You can't be in love with a human girl!"
"Why not, sir? You were."
Ambrosius flinched. "That's different. I already had an heir, I could afford to indulge myself."
Myrnin glared at him. "Is that all my mother was to you, Father? An indulgence? Just a passing fancy?"
"You watch how you talk to me, boy!" his father snapped. "What was between your mother and me is something you could never understand. I want you to forget this girl, she can never be yours. It's impossible. This is why I never wanted you to get involved with humans. They bring trouble, they always have."
"I'm half-human, Father. Are you saying I'm trouble too?"
"Gods of the wood, boy, you're more trouble than you're worth sometimes!"
"I'm sure Mother would have loved to hear you say that," Myrnin said bitingly, his father's words cutting him to the bone. "Or aren't you counting her among the other humans you're content to let rot? Where's your honor now? Or do you only have honor where it concerns us?"
"Damn you!" the king snarled, his eyes blazing. His hand lashed out, and smacked his son hard across the face. "Get out! Let the humans solve their own problems. That's the way it's always been."
Myrnin staggered, one hand going to his cheek. "No, Father. That's how you've always been. But I refuse to shut myself off from everyone and everything, like you have. The Golds have been nothing but kind to me, and now when they need my help, you just expect me to turn my back on them? Well, I won't! They at least deserve the courtesy of a warning."
Ambrosius' fists clenched. "You wretched whelp! You want to wallow in filth with your human friends, fine! Go! But don't think your defiance doesn't come with a price, Merlin! If you leave here and go against my dictates, we're through! I cast you from my House. You're no longer my son, no longer il'Shennara. There is no Prince Merlin any longer. You will be dead to us, exiled forever."
Myrnin glazed at him, feeling as if he looked upon a stranger. "You would exile me? Your own son? For helping those who saved me?"
"No son of mine would choose to defy me and associate with a human family the way you have. Either you do as I bid you or leave and go live with that common sorcerer and his riffraff family. You're a disgrace to my Name!"
Myrnin's jaw clenched. "That common sorcerer, Father, has shown more concern for me in two months than you have in fourteen years! I cannot abandon him now. My honor—the honor of a half-blood—won't permit it."
"Then take your honor and get out of my sight! We're done! Merlin Emrys Valerion Stormshadow is no more!" Ambrosius yelled.
"Farewell then, king of the il'Shennara," Myrnin snarled. "I've never really belonged among you anyway. But I just have one question before I go. Why the hell did my mother ever marry you?"
"Get out!" the king shouted, and lifted his hand.
Magic flashed from his palm and would have tossed Myrnin out the door like a piece of trash, but the boy quickly deflected it away with one hand, sending the papers flying off the king's desk and about the room in a whirlwind gust.
"Your technique needs work, Ambrosius," Myrnin said impudently to the astonished elven king, before he turned and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
His heart cold within him, Myrnin strode down the corridor towards his rooms. No one was about, which was fine with him. He would rather not encounter anyone right now. He reached his private quarters and nodded to the guard on duty at the end of the corridor. Then he entered his suite.
He dragged his rucksack out from behind the door and began hastily packing all the clothes he wished to take with him. He'd be damned if he'd show up again at the Dark Castle like a vagabond, despite the fact that he had now been declared exiled by the king.
He had almost finished packing when there came a knock on his door. "What is it?" he half-growled, feeling his magic prickle and stir within him.
"You sound as cross as a bear with a thorn in its paw, Myrnin. Did you and Father quarrel again?"
Myrnin looked up to see his brother Arion lounging against the doorjamb, his green eyes sparkling with gentle humor. "Can't you tell? I'm leaving."
"Where'd he send you this time? Somewhere pretty far from Gliringlass by the amount of things you're taking," his brother observed. Like their father, Arion had the golden hair and tanned skin of the il'Shennara, but his face was more expressive and mobile, and his eyes were never cold.
"He's sent me somewhere I'm not going to return from," Myrnin said softly. "He's exiled me, Ari."
"What? This is some kind of joke, right?" Arion gasped. "You're having one on me, good one, Myrnin."
Myrnin pulled the strings of his pack tight and looked at his brother for the last time. He shook his head slowly, realizing then that there was one other person he truly cared about in Gliringlass, and he would never see him again after today. "No. That's the whole reason I'm leaving."
"Stars and shadows, Myrnin! What the blazes happened in there? I heard him yelling and I thought . . . well . . . I know how you two can go at it sometimes, but . . . gods of the wood have mercy! What the hell?"
"I asked him for a favor, Arion. I asked him to help the Golds . . . and he refused me."
"What else? Did he find out about . . . your a'liri?"
"Yes. I told him myself."
"Gods! You couldn't have waited?"
"For what, Ari? It was never going to go well, you know that. I knew that from the first moment I danced with her on midsummer's eve. But I'll be damned if I'll put my heart in a cage for the likes of him. He's a hypocrite, Arion! He forbids me to ever see the woman I love because she's not il'Shennara, yet he married one! And had me. And he refuses to help the family that protected and saved me all those months ago why? Because of some stupid edict he created himself? He'd rather let the Golds be destroyed than admit he's wrong! Well, to hell with him then! Let him exile me, I don't give a damn!"
Arion paled. "Myrnin, no. He's just upset, you know his temper . . . hell, little brother, you've inherited more than your share of it, that's why you butt heads so much . . . don't go. Just stay tonight, let him cool off. He's always more reasonable in the morning . . ."
"Arion . . . I have to go. The Golds are in danger and I can't let them be caught by surprise. Not for him, not for anyone. I owe them more than I can ever repay. He's already declared me outcast."
"I'll talk to him. He listens to me," his brother said, a desperate note in his voice.
"He doesn't need me anymore, Ari. I've done what a good prince should do and served my people, been decorated in battle, and now it's time for me to go back into the shadows and be an obedient puppet. But I won't do that anymore. I deserve better than that. I deserve to be wanted, dammit! And he never has wanted me, and you know it."
"Myrnin, please! Whatever he said to you . . . he's an idiot! Don't listen to him, kid. This is your home . . ."
"No, it isn't, Ari. And it hasn't been, not for a long time." He slung his pack over his back and then his quiver and his bow.
Arion looked crushed. "Myrnin, damn you! I said I'll talk to him!"
"It won't do any good. It never has. It's better this way. My heart belongs there, with her and with the Gold sorcerer. They understand me, Ari. More, they actually love me, the way he never has. This is the path I've chosen."
His brother sighed. "I've never understood why he's always been so distant with you. I tried so many times to get him to . . . I don't know . . . be the way he is with me . . . I never wanted to steal him away from you . . ."
"You think I blame you for any of this? Arion! He's a cold bastard to me, I've never thought you had anything to do with it. He put his heart in the grave with my mother . . . and I'm just the reminder of her, something he'd rather forget. Now he can. Don't waste your breath on him. Just let it go, okay?"
"This is really what you want, isn't it?" Arion asked quietly.
"It's not how I would have liked to leave, but yeah, this is my choice, in a way."
"Then go with my blessing, little brother," Arion whispered, his green eyes shimmering with tears. "Go follow your heart." Then he caught an astonished Myrnin in a bear hug, crushing the slender boy to him. "I'll miss you. If you ever need me, send a messege."
"Arion, I'm supposed to be dead to you," Myrnin said, his voice muffled by his brother's triple spun silk tunic.
"Screw that! You remember what I said."
"Okay. I will. Now put me down. You're smothering me."
Arion released him. "Shade and sweet water, and may you find rest at your journey's end," he said, giving him the traditional farewell of their people among families forced to part.
Myrnin smiled sadly. "Thanks, Arion. You take care of yourself now. And tell Puck . . . hell, he'll know where I am."
"You're not going to tell him?"
"Hell, no. He might tie me up and make me stay here," Myrnin said wryly. "He'll know where I've gone if he wants to visit. Shade and sweet water, Arion."
Then he hugged his brother one last time and walked away, knowing he had to leave the Aspen Manse before using any spells of transportation, as the house was warded against such magics for the protection of the royal family.
Arion stared after him, silent tears trickling down his face. "Gods damn you, Father!" he swore softly. Then he whispered, "Good luck, little brother, and may you know peace at last."
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Myrnin debated about taking his pegasus with him, but in the end decided against it. Stormrider was his to use, but technically he belonged to the royal house, and Myrnin wanted nothing the king owned. He exited the Aspen Manse and crossed rapidly to the small set of stairs that he and Arion had always used when they wanted to sneak away from their tutors for an afternoon. They were servant stairs and therefore not guarded like the main entrances were to and from the treetops.
He went quickly down it and then was among the lower reaches of Gliringlass, where the poorer wood elves dwelled and also the armorers and weaponsmiths. Myrnin paused and looked back once at the beautiful city among the trees, the Heart of the Wood, and bid it a silent farewell. Then he hitched his pack upon his shoulder and concentrated, picturing his destination in his mind.
The transportation spell would take him outside of the city proper, into a small section of the Mystic Wood, and from there he would use another spell to get to the Dark Castle, as it was too far away for him to transport directly.
He blinked away, vanishing in a heartbeat.
To reappear in a small glade some ways away. He paused to get his breath, feeling slightly dizzy, as sometimes the spell took him like that. He leaned against the trunk of an elm tree, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
When a black arrow shot out of the trees and struck him in the shoulder.
Reeling, he gasped, one hand going to the shaft, knowing even as he did so that it was too late to pull it free, that the green spider venom was already coursing through him. For that was what all the night elves coated their arrows with.
"Hello, il'Shennara scum!" laughed a cold voice, and a dwarrow Nightlord stepped from the trees, followed by some thirty more of his war band.
Myrnin felt sick. He had not bothered to check this area, figuring himself safe. But he had walked right into a night elf ambush. With the poison in him, and his right arm out of commission, he knew he was vulnerable. Shaking his head, he conjured a shield and then tossed a few explosive energy balls at the oncoming night elves.
It would slow them down some. But not enough.
He saw some of the dwarrow fall, writhing to the ground, but the Nightlord blocked his cast and smirked cruelly at him.
"I'm going to enjoy skinning you, boy," he said, lifting his hand to cast.
Gripping his shoulder, feeling waves of nausea and burning pain shooting through him, Myrnin concentrated on keeping his shield up. He only prayed he could deflect whatever the Nightlord chose to cast at him.
As he did so, he recalled something Rumplestiltskin had said to him. If you ever need me, call me.
Gritting his teeth, Myrnin whispered, "Gods of the wood, help me." Then he yelled, "Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin!"
The Nightlord's laughter echoed in his ears and he felt the shock of a dark spell slam against his shield as the world tilted like crazy before his eyes.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Rumple was bottling potions in his lab when he felt the tug of the summoning spell. Immediately he closed his eyes, trying to determine where the pull was coming from and if it was a legitimate call for help or a mere prank by some mischievous children, for sometimes that had been the case in the past.
He Saw in his mind's eye a clearing in the woods, and a lone figure surrounded by night elves, with only a flickering blue shield of magic keeping them at bay.
"Myrnin!" he cried. "Hang on, lad!"
He transported himself away, letting the summoning draw him to where the boy was trapped among his dark kin.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Rumplestiltskin burst into the clearing, appearing among the night elves like a comet from the heavens, his hands shooting blasts of concussive magical force that smashed into five of their number, throwing them about like ragdolls.
One blast caught the Nightlord and flung the dark sorcerer against a tree so hard his neck snapped in half along with his spine. He was dead before he even knew what had hit him.
Before the dust had even settled, Rumple was casting again, taking advantage of the chaos his arrival had caused among the dwarrow. The earth trembled and split apart before his feet, swallowing ten night elves in rapid succession. At the same time thunder boomed and lightning crackled as he called on the powers of air and hurricane force gusts slammed into more night elves, picking them up like child's toys and sending them careening through the air to smash into trees, shattered and broken.
Several of them tried to shoot him with their poisoned arrows and attack him with their obsidian blades or throw magical knives at him, but he lifted a hand and they bounced away from him. Then he called fire in a blistering swath and incinerated all the night elves before him, unleashing all the power of a Master of Elements upon the wicked creatures.
Within minutes the twenty-six dwarrow that had surrounded Myrnin were nothing more than dust upon the wind. He made a motion with a hand and the earth sealed itself and the storm he had summoned dispersed. The sky was once more tranquil, though the earth was scorched and burnt in a thirty foot radius around the sorcerer.
Rumple turned and ran over to where Myrnin was slumped against an elm tree. "Myrnin! Gods!" he swore as he saw the black arrow sticking out from the boy's shoulder. He closed his hand about the shaft and willed the arrow to be banished.
It disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.
"Rum . . ." Myrnin hissed.
"I'm here, son." Rumple knelt, hugging the injured boy close. "You're going to be okay."
" . . . poison arrow . . ." Myrnin moaned softly.
Rumple went cold upon hearing those words. He didn't know how long the boy had before the poison reached his heart. "Hold on to me, Myrnin. I'm taking you home. Belle will heal you. Hold on. Don't let go."
Picking up the half-comatose boy in his arms, he transported them both back to the Dark Castle, praying he was not too late.
A/N: Okay, so how did you like all that went on at the Dark Castle with Rum, Belle, Clary, and Granny? What did you think of Myrnin's meeting with Graham? And the final confrontation between Myrnin and his father and brother? Now you've got a taste of just how powerful the Gold sorcerer really is. Hope you liked!
