This has been re-posted after reviewer 'D'Euly' pointed up some hideous typing errors, which I had to correct immediately.
Okay okay, I know I said I'd finish 'Flying the Nest' before doing another one-shot, but I couldn't help myself. This is very mildly Firenze/Magorian, but only really fleetingly implied. I always wondered after reading book 5 what would happen if Firenze returned to the herd. Here is my take on it. Please review, I quite like what I've done, and there aren't that many fics concerning the centaurs in this archive, which I think we should change.
Disclaimer: Firenze and Magorian belong to JK Rowling.
The Noble Death.
He heard them before he saw them, but thought it best to keep up the illusion that he had become so enamoured to the 'human condition' that his senses had been dulled. He had a suspicion that such a feint could be necessary later on, though he refused to flinch like some cornered fugitive when he felt either arm being seized, his palomino body surrounded by trained arrows. He would not be so dishonoured, and remained focused on the bows in front of him, his bright blue eyes unblinking, soothed by the familiar gloom of the forest that he had missed so much.
"Hold the traitor! Don't shoot! I'll fetch Magorian." That was Bane, he could tell without looking; he was always hot-blooded.
Black hair, broad chest running seamlessly into the chestnut body and gleaming hooves. He didn't have to look into those fierce brown eyes to know that Magorian was furious. He felt his arms being released, but knew it would be unwise to move. He felt the rest of the herd draw back into a daunting circle, whilst the leader paced around him.
"What brings you to this place, traitor?" Quiet, dangerous voice. "You cannot hope to return to the herd. To return is your death." Magorian stopped pacing and glared into those livid blue irises. "Have you been scorned by the wizards? You are a fool if you believe we would be sympathetic to a traitor who seeks to peddle the secrets of our race to weak and ignorant humans!"
He swallowed silently and addressed those gleaming hooves: "No, I have not been extradited by Men." He raised his eyes to those hard brown orbs and felt a connection pass over them. Magorian looked away.
"It is sworn that you will die for returning from whence you were banished!" he burst out, angrily, and the blond figure heard the soft pawing of irritated hooves pass like a thunder roll around the circle. "Do you comprehend our laws, mule?" there was a small flutter of dissent at the use of such a shameful name.
"I understand that very well," he said, and his voice was quiet.
Magorian made an indecisive movement before saying: "Leave us. The traitor will not attempt to escape now. I will deal with him."
"Magorian!" spat Bane, angrily. There was a murmur of annoyance, though the other centaurs were beginning to disperse, as though the scene had become boring.
"Leave them," a slow, doleful voice, echoed in the gloom. Ronan's voice. "Come," he turned gracefully and inclined his head to the more quick-tempered Bane. "The life of this one no longer concerns us. Come to the clearing. Saturn is prominent tonight."
Magorian did not speak again until he was certain there was nothing around them to hear, or to be listening, than the dark trees around them. Then he turned back. His brown eyes were sad wells. "Why did you return?"
"Mars is bright tonight."
Magorian glanced up at the sky, "I have read it keenly. Why did you return?"
"I sought you out. One more time."
Magorian pawed the ground uneasily and glanced into the whispering trees for a glimpse of any stragglers. "The fates tell of the start of a great war. The forest will not protect us that linger. If you seek help within our herd I have only one thing to say and that is that you were banished and are still banished."
He took a small step towards Magorian, who didn't move, which was encouraging. He remained looking at him in the moonlight filtering through the canopy above. "I too have sought to read the heavens. War will come to all peoples. The school will be lost."
"And you seek to come back here to hide!" Magorian's temper flared up again, his tail swishing with fury. He took two angry steps towards the other centaur, so that they were an inch apart. Suddenly he flinched violently. Glancing down he registered the paler centaur's hand on his own broad chest. He hesitated, feeling unsteady. His feelings of anger gave way to a deep sense of foreboding. "Why did you return?"
"I will die there, Magorian. At the school. He-who-must-not-be-named will crush all creatures that attempt to resist him. I will be destroyed."
Magorian drew a shaky breath, wide brown eyes flitting towards the branches on either side, but his main focus was on the traitor before him. Before he could move, an ice cold cheek had pressed against his own burning skin. He gasped.
"I am asking you to kill me," said the pale lips at his ear, "I knew you would if I returned. I am proud of us, proud of our ancient heritage. I would have you kill me over any Man. Even Him."
"No." It had been what Magorian had planned to do as soon as he had entered the clearing. But now it came to it, he could not do it. The cool head shifted, and he found himself confronted with those brilliant blue eyes.
"Yes. It is our law, you cannot disobey. Or do you wish to turn traitor yourself?" He nudged forwards and nuzzled the bridge of Magorian's nose. They remained like this for some time, foreheads pressed together, standing in the dark clearing. A cloud swept over their beloved stars and left them in darkness.
"Traitor," Magorian whispered, but his utterance was sad and reflective, rather than reproachful. "It is a mighty deed you ask of me now."
He let go of Magorian's hands that he hadn't realised he was holding, pressed their faces together one last time and then backed away. There was a faint rustling behind them and he sensed the herd beginning to return, to see if that worst of all deeds had yet been carried out. "Make it quick," he whispered, urgency flashing between them, "Do not let them see. I wish this to be private." Then he knelt his forelegs and bent his head, exposing the back of it, his white blond hair falling across his face.
Magorian reared up once and smashed down, delivering that short, smart blow to just the right spot in the back of the head. An ominous crunch reverberated throughout the forest, and the pounding of running hooves rent the air.
Firenze was dead before his ruined, once beautiful head could reach the forest floor. Magorian remained alone.
I didn't want to have them share a farewell kiss because it's just too human. I tried to think of a more intimate way to give them a little tenderness, and I like the idea of nuzzling noses. This was also more of a horse element, as horses rub noses. just imagine them kind of entwined and you'll get the idea -it must be hard for centaurs to get much closer like this. The long hair would add a lovely touch. If anyone wants to do me a fanart to go with this, it would be fantabulous, I just can't draw centaurs right.
please leave a comment or few, love skinnyrita xxxxxxxx
