Episode One Hundred and Three
Part One
They ventured from the castle two lonely figures. Each was wearing a thick black cloak which silenced nearly all of their movements. The cat like stealth Graves had used all those years ago to sneak in and out of the castle came back to him quickly and no one noticed him or the short, curvy figure beside him.
Harry was the only one who saw them. Ever since his exchange with Gwen on the staircase he seemed to always know her location. He leapt from his camp bed just outside the castle, for now the fighting was at a standstill and most of the soldiers slept with only a few scouts on watch for either side. Yet none of the scouts noticed when all three figures moving through the gloom of the new morning were swallowed by the inky black shadows from the trees of the Forbidden Forest.
He followed them at a distance, careful not to alert them to his presence. He wasn't certain why, but he didn't want them to know that he was with them. He only wanted to follow and to know what this was all about, but not be known himself.
Gwen's feet led her to the mound quickly and she stopped. Harry ducked behind a tree and tried very hard to slow his breathing so he could listen. "I have to go in alone." She said clearly.
What Graves said was muffled. She replied, "I know, but if you come in you can't get back out until Gwynn Ap Nudd. I need you in this world and while I would feel better to know you were safe with the fey… I need you here."
Graves nodded. "I'll be here."
She smiled for him, leaned up to kiss him and when they sighed their breath formed tiny rivulets of mist that curled into romantic little shapes. The mist floated away on some queer, fey magic and carried with it a tiny bit of hope.
Gwen stepped out of sight.
She had been gone a long time when Harry's leg cramped up from leaning against the tree so heavily. He moaned slightly and regretted it instantly.
"You can come out now Harry." Graves said.
Harry drew a deep, cold breath. It woke him some, but it didn't wash away the sleepy feeling in his brain. He stepped over to the taller man slowly.
"I know, there's something about this place that's not quite real. It makes you dreamy."
Harry looked at him as if he didn't understand what he was saying, even though he did. He shook his head after a tense moment of discomfort. He liked Graves, but he didn't want to. Both men stood silent for a long time. They couldn't think of anything to say about the silence that had fallen between them since Harry had assumed him dead and learned again of his resurrection. They had not seen each other in as many years and didn't know how to begin speaking to one another.
Part Two
Gwen ventured down the familiar steps, her heart beating heavily in a rhythm she was sure felt familiar. She noticed that the great silver table that had been there the last time she visited was still there, still unfinished. Some of it had been inlayed with gems in a multitude of colors, but it appeared that the tools to finish it had been abandoned long ago.
"Gemma?" She asked timidly into the cavernous space. There was no reply, so she trekked further in. The mound was a warm and toasty cocoon. There was a delicious smell drafting through the malleable walls, like vanilla cookies and hot cocoa, mixed to the point of intoxication. She looked fore and aft, but it appeared completely deserted at this level.
She stepped through the first wall, unsure of herself but stumbled into a great room with a crackling fireplace and merry laughter ringing from the corners. There were fey all about the room, dancing, eating and making merry. She stood on the perimeter unaware of how strange this might look to someone truly on the outside. The fey part of herself was so taken up with the jolliness that the human part had nearly forgotten why she had come in the first place.
Gemma spotted her from the other side of the room and rushed over to her. She pulled her back into the first room and Gwen's head began to clear immediately. She shook it dazedly, surprised that the sounds and smells were now muffled and that she could think plainly once again.
"You've changed." Said her great-great-grandmother, observing her as one would a show dog. Gwen was surprised by the cool appraisal and meant to voice her indignation but she had more important business. She made a hurried apology for not having come sooner and explained her errand.
"Yes, he has been wandering about for days now."
"Do you know why?"
"Who knows the mind of a human better than another human? His reasons are unclear to me." Gemma replied.
"Do you know where he is now?"
"Not currently. He is in the forest. I'm sure you can find him from that much information."
Something had definitely changed in the way the old faerie regarded the young woman before her. Gwen felt an icy pain in her heart, as if Gemma cared so little she could stab her. She understood the urgency of finding Dumbledore, but she wanted this cleared up before she left the mound again.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing's wrong dear."
"No, something's wrong." Gwen looked at her with defiance in her light brown eyes.
"I will tell you again nothing's wrong."
"Ok, then what's changed."
"Ah, now I think we can get somewhere."
Gwen looked at the older fey with deep scrutiny. Her brow crinkled, her right eyebrow cocked, her lip pursed to the left all made for a funny picture, but neither woman felt like laughing.
"Sit." Gemma said, as a chair appeared under her bottom. Gwen sat reluctantly and folded her hands in her lap demurely. She looked the very picture of a lady. "I have spoken to the Stag King since your last visit to us. He has informed me of some things that I hardly feel qualified to relay, but you must know that it changes the nature of our relationship."
"Well I know now." Gwen interrupted pointedly.
"Yes, of course. The truth is you just don't belong to us anymore."
"Us as in the fey?"
"Us as in the sellie. You are unsellie through and through."
Gwen shook her head, squinting her eyes and trying to make sense of what had just been said. "I'm unsellie?"
"Which would explain why the King took such an interest in you."
"Yeah I guess." Gwen said. "But if I'm unsellie that means that Henry LeFey…"
"Was not your father, as you've been suspecting for awhile now."
"You didn't know?"
"No, but I can see it now. It shines through your very skin."
Part Three
Looking for Dumbledore seemed nothing more than a great distraction to Gwen. As always, she had something else to think about. The three friends picked their way around the forest as a tight knit group, but had no luck on the first day. They returned to the castle with a firm confirmation of the scout's findings. Dumbledore was haunting the Forbidden Forest and Gwen figured that she knew why. He was looking for Voldemort.
She didn't voice this opinion to anyone, but Harry and Graves both silently agreed. They could feel it in the air and Corwin's forearm had burned while in the forest. That was a sure sign that the Dark Lord was near.
Gwen didn't tell the boys about the rest of her exchange with Gemma. She was still too hurt, still too stricken that a wall had been built between her and her supposed great-great-grandmother over something so silly as blood. She didn't yet have any firm proof that Henry LeFey was not her father, but she had more than one verbal confirmation that it was so.
All she really wanted to do was curl up on her window bench in her little room at Hogwarts and sleep it off, soaking up the rays of sun. She would have been there just now but Graves had insisted that she stay in the Great Hall with everyone else, so he could keep close and keep watch for her.
It was a good idea, but Gwen couldn't get comfortable with all the noise. People kept shifting all around, there was the low droning of the sick folks in hospital, the occasional clang of dishes from the kitchens down below and on more than one occasion a messenger would run in out of breath and pant out a dispatch to someone standing close by. There was no break from the monotonous noise of living, breathing people on every side.
So it was that Gwen ended up wandering around the Forbidden Forest accompanied by the dogged Graves. She had tried, ardently so to slip past his attention, but as she couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not underneath his invisibility cloak she picked the wrong time to stage a revolution. He grabbed her ankle and if it wasn't for her presence of mind she would have screamed and leapt out of her skin.
As it was he practically dragged her out into the hall to have a word, but it was occupied which led to Gwen leading Graves into the forest. It was the one place no one else would go, so they were safe in the knowledge that they would be left to their own devices out here.
"What's the big deal?" He asked only mildly disappointed. He had realized long ago that the fey part of herself hated to be tied down.
"I just needed some air." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Something's going on with you."
She sighed and looked sideways into the trees. "Yeah, but it's not anything I'm ready to talk about just yet."
There was a light mist rolling over the ground and the late morning sun looked peaked as it streamed through the trees, as if it would rather just set now and save itself the trouble later. Graves squatted down to the moist earth and picked up a loose handful. He shook it about gently, watching it stream from his fingers. Somehow, that simple act eased the trouble knot in his gut.
"Do you think we'll find Dumbledore?" He asked.
"I don't know." She replied deeply. "I don't know anything anymore."
