Disclaimer: you know the usual
QURICKEmile was pressed between Galahad and Gawain in a storage cupboard. There was no room to breath and they were squeezed so tightly that they got confused as to whose body parts were whose. This looked like a very compromising situation.
Except Lyndaal and Kel were packed in as well.
"That was my foot, Galahad," Emile snapped.
"Shhh," Galahad hushed in response.
"Can you please stop doing that Lyndaal and Gawain," Kel requested.
Lyndaal and Gawain didn't answer. They were distracted. Emile elbowed Gawain in the ribs.
"Stop it. It's distracting," She berated them.
"Shhh," Galahad whispered.
"You shut up!" Emile retorted.
"Fine. If you want Mistress Qurick finding us then be my guest," Galahad scolded Emile.
All occupants shuddered at the mention Qurick's name.
"I thought after we married it would be the end of this torment," Kel groaned.
Emile snorted, "Of course not. She has to keep up to date with our sexual satisfaction. With our…" Emile struggled to find words.
"Your urges?" Gawain asked innocently.
"Yes thank you Gawain. Thank you for saying that horrible horrible word," Emile glared daggers at him.
Gawain held his hands up in a protestation of blamelessness, "If you aren't being satisfied by Tristan I'm sure Lyndaal and I could find room in our bed."
"You don't even want to finish that thought Gawain," Emile commanded. Lyndaal giggled.
"Prude!" Gawain accused.
"No but the thought that Tristan isn't satisfying my sexual appetite is too far fetched for words," Emile informed him.
There was silence in the cupboard as the inhabitants remembered they were adults.
"Urges," Gawain whispered.
"That's it. Out you go!" Kel commanded.
"I can hear some one," Galahad hissed.
There were indeed footsteps. The door was flung open and Lancelot stood in the light.
"You are all mad," He declared on registering what he was seeing.
"Mistress Qurick," Lyndaal pointed out.
"Here?" Lancelot's face had grown pale. He had been on the receiving end of one of Mistress Qurick's broom swings.
We all nodded, faces grave.
"Make room!" Lancelot and pushed his way into the cupboard. This was ridiculous!
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"This is ridiculous," Isolde snapped. Garret patiently tried to explain why they were taking lessons together with Fox and Nucktara. For the eleventh time.
"But I do not need any tutor. I am smart enough. This is just my mothers form of punishing me," Isolde whined.
"Uh excuse me," Fox coughed.
Both children stared at him.
"Are you going to listen to a thing I try and teach you," He was staring, disgruntled, at Isolde. The girl didn't know a thing about his role, or her mother's, in the Rouge. Nucktara took them for lessons too but Fox seemed to pick the ones where Isolde was in an exceptionally bad mood. She would not cooperate.
Garrett moved to where Fox was standing, "Look this is getting us no where. Let us discuss it like adults." Fox cast a doubtful eye on Isolde as Garret hurried to say, "Between us men."
Fox shrugged. He was a thief after all. He was open to diplomacy, logical and bribery.
"I'll teach her and we'll all keep telling Emile that you're helping us with our studies," Garrett negotiated with the man.
Fox nodded thoughtfully. Could he get away with it? Garrett observed the growing smile on the other man's face.
"A deal then, prince." The men shook hands and Nucktara was gone.
"That was rude," He told Isolde as soon as Fox had left.
Isolde opened her mouth outraged then shut it again, "I'm horrible aren't I?"
"You were just then," Garrett told her.
"It's just my mother. She knows nothing. I know so much. I spend most of my time studying and then she organises lessons. What about for the twins?"
"I don't think she did this to spite you," Garrett said gently.
"I know," Isolde admitted surprisingly, "She isn't capable of plotting. It's more the fact that she is so oblivious!"
"She isn't oblivious," Garrett muttered under his breath but he didn't elaborate. He didn't have anything to prove that thought, just an instinct. Isolde liked facts more than intuition.
"You must think I'm awful. I know most of the knights think I'm a spoilt brat."
Garrett did not even try to deny it, "Your mother is popular whether you would see it or no. But I don't think you are awful. You just need to learn to accept your mother."
"You give good advice, Garrett," Isolde confessed. She smiled. Garrett noticed she had a pretty smile.
"It is one thing to recognise good advice it is another thing to take it," Garrett observed.
"I'll try," Isolde promised earnestly, "will that satisfy?"
"It will have to," Garrett said smiling in response. It wasn't much of a give from the stubborn Isolde but it was something.
"I still want to know her secret so don't try and dissuade me from that," Isolde threatened but her tone was light.
"Would not dream of it as I want to know too," Garrett acknowledged.
Isolde picked up a book, "Should we learn now?"
"Of course. We need lots of information so we can shame Baltimore," Garrett grinned wickedly.
"You're mean to Baltimore," Isolde's expression didn't match the words. They both enjoyed any opportunity to return Baltimore's habit of teasing.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Why am I in here?" Tristan demanded with the closest thing to emotion his monotone voice ever got!
"We are hiding," Bors whispered.
"Why?"
"Mistress Qurick," Emile told her husband, trying to grab his hand.
"That's mine," Arthur murmured, not quite believing he was hiding in a cramped storage room. This was not how he imagined running the country would be like.
"Sorry," Emile said, quickly lifting her hands in the air.
"Um that's still me hand," Arthur repeated.
"Sorry," Gawain said putting his hands in the air.
"Who did I have?" Emile wanted to know. Lancelot winked.
"This is stupid," Kel sighed. The people in this small opening included Gawain, Galahad, Kel, Lyndaal, Arthur, Bors, Emile, Tristan and Lancelot. Kel was near breaking point. She didn't like having to deal with them all when they were like this. Somehow the close quarters was bringing out the infant in each of them.
"Emile, do you think this is the time or the place?" Tristan asked quietly.
"I didn't do anything," Emile looked at her husband puzzled.
Tristan turned his dark eyes to the other people. Galahad started giggling.
"Never do that again," Tristan threatened. The sound died mid-giggle. Kel was about to admonish her husband for teasing Tristan when there were footsteps.
Everyone stopped breathing.
The footsteps continued down the hall.
They relaxed. It was turning out to be a long after noon.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Shazara leant over the fresh crop of herbs. Kyrilla eyed her in his different form. He made a conscience effort to shield his power, uncertain. He did not think Emile, Nimue or Merlin, who could recognise him by power alone, were anywhere nearby but it couldn't hurt to be safe.
"Hello," Kyrilla said softly. Shazara jumped clearly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Kyrilla insisted with fake sincerity.
Shazara eyed the handsome man suspiciously and nod, "No offence meant or taken, stranger."
Her tone was careful as she surveyed Kyrilla's new form. Interestingly he had taken on one of his earlier forms, knowing Emile had never seen this one. It was close to his original form. Before he had made the change to a god. His blue's were incredibly pale with black hair to his shoulders and tanned skin.
If he had thought extraordinary good looks would better his situation with Shazara he was completely mislead. Shazara had spent so much time outcaste from the attractive people that she automatically assumed that they must want something if they talked to her. She was usually right and sadly today was no different.
Kyrilla wanted to conquer her and have her under his thumb.
"I'm lost. I need to find my way to Camelot," Kyrilla used the lost little boy act. It worked so well with females.
Shazara looked at him incredulously before turning to point at the large castle and growing township, very visible from the hill. Kyrilla blushed. Shazara continued to stare at him before he threw up his hands and laughed.
"I wanted to talk to you," He chuckled a deep masculine laugh that was so genuine but Kyrilla knew it was all superficial. Shazara was unmoved but she stopped looking at him with those mistrustful eyes. If he couldn't reel her in with good old fashion charm he would use his god powers but he'd rather not.
Shazara could not figure out why the handsome youth was still here talking to her. The men fawned over her cousin, though she was oblivious, and Korella normally. Even the male children flirted with other strange women before they would woe her in jest. She had grown up around the most attractive men already. The knights Tristan, Galahad and Gawain were awfully easy on the eye and she had seen women near swoon for her father. She had seen beauty and all the nasties it concealed and suffice it to say she didn't find it that affecting anymore.
Kyrilla caught glimpses of this flashing through her mind and realised he had to try a different tactic.
"Emile invited me," He spurted out before he could stop himself, "Do you know her? Maybe where I could find her?"
How Emile would laugh if she ever found out he had needed her. He really didn't want to bring her into it but she would provide the opening into Shazara's life. Beside's it was worth a risk just to steal Emile's niece and make her heir. With a large grin he used his mind to form a large eagle with its wings across his back.
It was the rouge tattoo for Athens. The king tattoo. He was beginning to get a good idea to infiltrate the castle.
Shazara's face had softened instantly, "she's my aunty."
"You have her eyes," Kyrilla said.
Shazara wrinkled her nose, "They are a different colour and shape. I have my fathers eyes."
"Yes but your aunty gleams from within them. No higher compliment to be paid," Kyrilla said sincerely. Truly earnest for the first time since their conversation had began. He was fond of Emile as she and Zephyrus still were the best rogues despite their age. But Emile, in a frustrating display of morals, was refusing to introduce her children, Isolde, Shadow, Dowanna and Larx, to the rouge court. Zephyrus was having his son Kari schooled in the ways of thieving and he was becoming promising.
Shazara blushed, finally affected by some of Kyrilla's charm.
"I can take you to her in the castle," Shazara offered, "But what is your name?"
"Pandareos," Kyrilla replied with out skipping a beat. It meant thief.
Shazara grinned as if expecting him to say, not really. When he didn't she stated, "and do you live up to your name?"
"Keep me around and you may find out!"
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Where are Guinevere and Alera?" Lancelot asked quietly.
"Taking one for the team," Emile murmured.
"Distractions!" Lyndaal explained.
"They are going to hate us," Arthur observed. Emile waved the threat aside.
"I feel stupid," Bors complained, "We are grown adults, knights and warriors… and we are hiding in a closet from an elderly lady."
The others exchanged glances. The door was thrust open and Bors pushed out.
"Lead her away from here," Kel instructed.
"If you think you can challenge her that is!" Gawain stated.
There was silence before a small knock, "Can you let me back in please."
"Maybe Bors is right," Galahad stated, "If we just coped with this whole urges questioning it would be over."
Emile, who had wedged herself between the wall and Tristan, snorted.
"That means, I do not think that is wise," Tristan translated her wife's sounds.
"I don't care what the rest of you do. I'm staying here," Kel declared, "Mistress Qurick terrifies me.
There was another frantic knock, "Let me in NOW! I can hear her coming."
There was a frantic scramble to open up so Bors could slip inside. It didn't work.
"Ah Bors. Direct me immediately to Emile and the other women," Mistress Qurick's loud voice made everyone in the room stop breathing, "I want to discuss their urges."
"I am dying of mortification," Emile stated before Tristan's hand gently eased over her mouth, silencing her.
"I have an urge… to assassinate her," Lyndaal muttered.
'I swear I heard something." Mistress Qurick spoke. Everyone froze, glaring at Lyndaal and Emile.
'Yes it came from this cupboard." Footsteps approached and Bors frantic dissuasions such as, "I think they were practising archery. There was a violent scrabble for the back of the room. Nobody wanted to be the first to encounter Mistress Qurick. Somehow, despite enthusiastic fighting, Emile was pushed to the front. She had not let go of Tristan so he was right next to her when the door open. She did the first thing that came to mind.
She seized Tristan and kissed him. Burying her hands deep in his braids she pulled him close. Tristan was surprised but reacted pulling her tight. She eventually broke away to face Mistress Qurick rather breathlessly.
"Mistress Qurick. I'm so glad you found us. Tristan and I were just giving a quick demonstration of how," Emile paused, gulped, then continued, "urges are satisfied."
"Well Emile I'm glad you are leading by example," Mistress Qurick for once seemed lost for words, "But at least you look satisfied. The rest of you… out! I will interview you now!"
The rest tumbled out groaning but stopped when Mistress Qurick glared. They filed off down the hall while Emile watched them go victoriously.
"Serves them right for pushing me forward," She mumbled to Tristan.
"Aunt Emile," A voice called.
Emile turned to see her niece Shazara leading a handsome young man down the corridor.
"This is Pandareos. He says you invited him."
The stranger gave a wide grin. Why did it make Emile suddenly uneasy and remind her of someone all at once?
AN: nothing nothing nothing! Kyrilla was always used as comic relief previously but I thought it would be fun to develop his character. Review!
MD666