Sorry!

Ch. 6:

Reilly paced back and forth across the throne room after taking his niece back to her room, confused as to what was going on, but luckily for her uncle, her ladies-in-waiting had provided excellent distraction. He slipped away and hoped to find his brothers, but they all seemed to be out and about. Something was truly amiss, all the signs pointed to it, and the Irishman hated things like this. Honestly, it was like bad luck tormented them every few years. Couldn't the cosmos take a fucking break? Why them? Ever since their mother died it was as if the world was out to get them; out to tear them apart. And for the life of them, they could never seem to agree on a course of action. They could barely agree on breakfast! Perhaps their mother was lucky in that she never had siblings to contend with. In times ancient to them, birth, people, were scarce. Not like now, where kingdoms flourished with grand populations. Life was hard, but also simpler too.

Is this what the future held? Eire already found it all exhausting. What good came from neighboring kingdoms built by family when there was so much in-fighting anyway? Rhys insisted that they stick together; that it was important to the future. Eire scoffed in his pacing. It was easy for Rhys to be so. He didn't have to sail the channel to be a part of their group!

Even so, his sweet, little niece was here. And it came with joy as it had foreboding. The predicted storm was one that was designed to break them apart; sever their familial connection to one another. His runes spoke of it. And while little Anne moved with the assurance of a warrior, she was so very weak now; it was obvious to him. Perhaps not so much to the others, convinced that they had time, but Eire could see the signs.

She was fading. Her natural, magical protection that came with being a member of their bloodline was barely a flicker of power. She was defenseless; at least against magic. She tried to mask it before them, he knew, but he also saw the exhaustion, the aching, and the melancholy that was beginning to surround her. As if she were resigned to her diminishment. He could only hope she did not lose hope; did not lose faith in their ability to protect her, before the darkness took hold and consumed her.

It was the heavy weight of death. It was what happened to their mother. She used all of her power to protect her children; to drive away Rome. She had lost connection to her own people. That darkness severed her from the power of her land and blood, until the darkness took her too. Weighed upon her as a cloak, and she knew, and she accepted. Only asked that they take care of one another; be kind to one another. And perhaps at first they tried, for her memory, but they'd never been…well, tactile or soft-spoken, with anyone really, let alone each other. Eire briefly wondered if this would be a catastrophic failing of their bloodline. If what was happening with their niece was some manner of sign of their ultimate doom.

"You lack faith in us as a family, Eire." Reilly startled as Rhys stared solemnly at him. The Irishman scowled and straightened his posture.

"Can you blame me? And who said you could pilfer 'round my head, eh?"

"You lot make it ridiculously easy what with the way you seem to cast out every thought. Any empath would be able to discern your thoughts." Which only made Reilly pout harder and Rhys sighed, "I am sorry, brother. I do not mean to be so callous with my ability. I am just…concerned when such morose feelings waft from my kin. I feel the need to act as brotherly as all of you seem exasperated by."

"'Tis not…not exasperating…we just…we're not so wee anymore, are we? No need to coddle." Reilly hated when Rhys did this; made everyone uncomfortable with his gentle gestures and prying nature. They weren't little children anymore; they were seasoned fighters, with their own kingdoms!

"Not coddling, simply care. Is that so bad?" Rhys had patted his brother's head, as he had done for Alistair not too long ago, smiling at the flush that spread across Reilly's cheeks. Alright, Eire thought still pouting, Alistair, Arthur, and he were not particularly affectionate, but Rhys was. But Rhys had always been the strange one in their family. Eire ducked out of the way and regarded Rhys a moment before speaking again.

"Our lass isn't doing so well, brother." Rhys blinked and his brows furrowed.

"Has she fainted again?"

"No, she is mostly fine."

"Aside from the obvious cause, why would you think—"

"I just know, alright? 'Tis…'tis the same as with mother. The connection to her people is gone and it is taking its toll upon her. As we already knew, but I fear we have less time that we realize." Rhys nodded, agreeing.

"But that is not what disturbs you now is it?"

"She's hearing voices." Eire rolled his eyes from his brother's raised eyebrow, "From the dark forest."

"What did it say?"

"Whose blood upon the stone has wrought ye higher shall reap ye of all joy; it said"

"Foreboding…and over-dramatic." Rhys huffed.

"This is serious!"

"Indeed. And we shall be prepared."

"How can we prepare for what we cannot know, eh, wizard-man?" Rhys' mouth tightened at the nickname, but he recovered fast.

"Why do you not trust that I have a plan?"

"Oh? What plan is that?"

"We keep little Anne close; she is safe inside the castle. And while it is absolutely necessary to send her back to her time, it doesn't mean we cannot employ outside help."

"And who do we know that could possibly help us? Certainly not Norge; his magic is very different, and don't forget he doesn't like you."

"I was talking about us."

"I don't understand."

"I've sent a message to the future, hopefully found, that will aid us in our spellcasting. When they cast to pull her back, they will employ their powers and, I'm hoping, future knowledge and ability to keep her safe."

"You are taking great risk with that."

"How so?"

"You are assuming that we are allies in the future."

"Why would we not be?"

"Don't pretend to be a moron, brother." Alistair said from his leaning position in the door. Arthur stood behind him, looking pensive. "We've already gone to war with one another before. Even faced each other on the battlefield."

"Are you saying that even if we were warring with each other, you would abandon your kin to her fate?" Rhys challenged.

"I—no! Of course not." Alistair grumbled.

"You sure about that?" Arthur grouched and Alistair threw a candlestick at him.

"Yeh stop trying to villainize me!"

"You are also assuming that this message you have sent will be found." Eire continued.

"Oh it will be."

"And who are we the be sure that our own strengths have not waned in time to come?" Arthur asked. "According to Anne, we are much older in her time. Centuries will have passed by the time she is born; centuries more until she is grown."

"And yet, you were still strong enough to sire her; to raise her to independence." While true, Arthur couldn't help the slight flush at his brother's turn of phrase. Siring was a…an intimate concept. And he was…was still young even if not untouched. The idea of paternity was still…difficult to take in. It was no small feat to be sure. One he had not considered and now that he knew…

He has accepted that he will be a father someday. It was to be. And everything that comes with it. His child was in danger. It was up to him to protect her.

In the present:

Mathieu felt the need to start keeping tabs on all the favors he was now owed. He'd been mediating between so many governments, trying to be reassuring to Japan who somehow heard that something had happened to his American friend, flat out lying to his Papa who Matt was sure knew he was lying, getting dismissive responses from his kin across the sea, and now, there was a Texan seated on his couch glaring at him. Maple, he did not deserve this.

"If you know something…"

"For the hundredth time, I do not. I know as much as you. America seems to have caught some manner of illness. She's in quarantine which, obviously, means she can't travel or have personal contact, it could spread whatever she has."

"So, what, they bar her from technology too? We have these wonderful things called phones! They won't let her call? If you ask me, its sounds an awful lot like kidnapping." Matt felt his eyebrow twitch.

"Ever occur to you that perhaps her symptoms may hinder communication? Maybe she is on a ventilator. Or delirious. Hmm?" That seemed to sober the Texan.

"Then an official statement? Why hasn't that happened yet? A doctor's note? A goddamn picture of her in hospital? This is suspicious!"

"No, you are finding it suspicious when it isn't! You're trying to make some kind of conspiracy! Very irresponsible for international relations." But Matt deflated a bit at the unimpressed glare aimed at him. He sighed. Americans.

"No, it is suspicious. Especially because everyone is deflecting so much. The only reason I'm not storming over there is because I am trying to give that Englishman the benefit of the doubt."

"And because your government won't let you travel there." Matt said under his breath and caused the Texan's face to twitch.

"And yet, here I am, huh? I could go there; this is me being diplomatic. A rarity for me, I'll give you that, but it's happening. And you what? A little transparency would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Coming from a U.S. rep," the Canadian nodded towards his guest, "Is a little heavy-handed, don't you think?"

"Alright. I played nice, but clearly you know nothing."

"No, I know what's going on."

"Do you though? Or is it just what he told you too? Just so trusting that what he is saying is the truth, but you haven't heard from her either, have you? No official word or anything."

"He has no reason to lie to me." Matt felt his anger spike.

"So, you believe he told you everything? He trusts you that much. About where she is and all? He let you speak to her?"

"He said she would when he found her!" Matt snapped, but the Texan just stared hard towards him.

"Why would he have to find her, if she is sick in a hospital?" Matt found himself cursing in every language he knew. He fell for it; let his emotions get the better of him. And the Texan was sharper than he let on. You could hardly believe it with the cowboy hat perched on his head and elaborate boots. Matt had worn a simple, professional suit to their meeting. Texas had waltzed in wearing jeans, western working shirt, and oversized belt buckle. It was ludicrous! And now, he felt foolish. It was planned; to throw him off.

"Thank you for your time." Was all the cowboy nation said before he rose, tipped his hat, and stalked out of the room. Matt took a few deep breaths before pulling his phone out and sending an apology to England's phone; there might be a Texan on the way. He needed some emergency flapjacks with extra maple syrup…mixed with whiskey.

Meanwhile, the Texan personification sent out a mass text: All hands on deck. We goin' across the pond! And he smiled when a flurry of replies rolled in – Hawaii, Alaska, Molossia, and California gave varying responses of support. It was time to mobilize Team U.S.A. Texas flipped his phone whistling a merry rendition of "Ready to Die."

Elsewhere:

Arthur chucked his phone across the room with a loud curse. He should've known this would happen eventually. Rhys just raised an eyebrow and continued his translation of his notebook. He huffed again.

"What, idjit? What has your knickers in knots?" Alistair glared from his spot.

"That was Matthieu."

"And that upsets you? Thought the boyo was the favorite?" Reilly piped in.

"I don't pick favorites." Growling when his brothers only snorted. "He sent a text. Apparently, he was visited by Texas and accidentally let it slip that Anne was missing. He might be heading this way."

"Shit. So call the government. Bar his entry."

"Because that won't make this more suspicious? And if I were to request that, then I will have to explain to our own government what is going on. Which will alert her government! We've managed to avoid an international incident thus far by keeping others in the dark!"

"Don't get hysterical. His government could stop him before he even flies here." Rhys admonished.

"You honestly believe that?"

"I've been trying to be more optimistic."

"And how's that working, wizard man?" The tallest sneered.

"Referring to olde nicknames, little brother?"

"Only because I almost forgot that silly name you called yourself back then!" Alistair chuckled.

"I remember better than most of you. Shall I remind them then, Alba, of that night I found you outside the great hall, drunk, wandering about, with—"

"Fine! Sorry!"

"No no, do tell." The Irishman sidled up to their eldest, but Rhys shrugged him off.

"Damn it all, can we focus? Texas is coming! Here! The only thing he will do is get in the way! We cannot afford distraction."

"Fine. I agree. But we cannae stop it without compromising everything else. Besides, it'll take time anyway. And how would he know where we are in the country."

"Uh….oh…well…" Reilly muttered.

"Reilly?" Rhys turned to him.

"Well, the boy follows my Facebook…"

"You have a Facebook?"

"You mean you don't?"

"Eire!"

"Fine! I may have snapped a photo of you two," he nodded towards Alistair and Arthur, "when fightin' in the dirt and posted it. The location was tagged."

"Eire." Rhys sighed.

"Sorry."

"Well, that's that, then."

"No, Rhys, it isn't! If he gets here in middle of our spell, he could destroy everything!"

"Don't be so dramatic. And give the boy some credit. Maybe he will listen to reason and stay out of the way."

"Yeh really are trying to be an optimist. I'll tell yeh; it's strange coming from you." Rhys turned indignant toward the Scotsman who only shrugged.

"I'm sure the boy can be reasoned with, after all, he has gone this long without trying to tear down our walls."

"I don't share your confidence."

"Have faith." The others simply groaned.

Elsewhere:

"You know, I'm actually surprised they allowed travel at all." A tall brunette examined people passing by with their luggage towards the security checkpoints. "But still, why wouldn't they let us all go?" They glanced at their brother expectantly as he examined his ticket again. "You know you don't have to print the boarding pass anymore; you can use your phone. It's an app for the airline you use."

"I prefer paper, alright. And I already told you, we can't all go because of diplomatic relations."

"More like, they're afraid of the trouble we could get into. You shoulda told them I could keep Hawaii in check."

"You're more trouble than Hawaii, Cali."

"And you're more trouble than me, Tejas!" The cowboy nation only grinned.

"Then I'll be sure to send our regards." California only snorted 'you watch too much Game of Thrones.

"How long you been wanting to say that?"

"All week!"

"Whatever. I'm buying my own ticket, with my own money; gov ain't got say in personal travel. Hawaii and Alaska might stay put and stew, but I'm all about action. So, give me some time to avoid the peanut gallery, and I'll be there to back you up."

"Thanks, but I could also use you to keep an eye on Molossia. He's been moping around since the big boss denied him travel."

"Now I have to buy two tickets?"

"What're you complainin' for, Hollywood?" California only tsk-ed in annoyance. "Fine, I'll watch after the little cactus, but once we meet up, it's game time."

"I understand. Thanks for your help, hermano."

"Yes, yes. No need to get all gushy on me. Go before you miss you flight. I gotta pack and track down the kid now."

"See you on the other side!"