Arthur gasped. Alfred wondered what was so special about this, but soon found his question answered for him. “Oh yes, how long has it been since you have rehewn the Rowan frame? Have you continued to add too much salt to your food? No? You don’t wear a knife on you at all times I see. Your rue and wort and yarrow are dried and powerless now. I see you still do the shoes…” Crowe bent down and kicked away the shoe arrangement Arthur always so considerately made. “But they are nothing to one such as me. So tell me,” Crowe’s delighted, triumphant grin alighted on Arthur. Alfred wished he could see Arthur’s face, so he’d know how to react. What should he do, what was going on, what was this, he didn’t – “How long has it been since you drew yourself a circle of protection? You still have lingering protections from Caledonia and Cambria and even traces from your mother. She doesn’t remember you, you know, but it is still impressive that her protections remain after all this time. I wonder who will take your place. That is not my problem though.”
Arthur snarled and began rapidly muttering long strings of syllables under his breath, and Alfred gaped as Arthur’s skin began to subtly glow.
Crowe smirked. “Really now, why don’t we just say, Cume.” He crooked his finger, and Arthur tumbled forward, off the bed and onto the floor. “You’ll get to meet your brothers again, and your mother, though she is far too far gone. Cume, into the Gewind you go.” Alfred watched in horror as Arthur stood and took three halting steps forward, as if directed by an unskilled puppeteer. “Arthur!” he cried out. Arthur twitched to a halt and seemed to brace himself against an invisible doorframe. Alfred wanted to move, stop him, he was sure that whatever this was, he could stop him from leaving, whatever this Crowe was doing, he was stronger than anything else on the planet – Alfred tried to move, but he was frozen, and Alfred suddenly realized what it was that Arthur had caused with the whispering. Alfred struggled again but it held fast, and all he could see of Arthur was the faint headon ruffling of blond hair from a wind where there wasn’t supposed to be one. Arthur turned, and gave a daring smirk to Crowe as he finished his words, and Alfred could see his handsome profile, more beautiful and otherworldly than usual. Alfred strained his poor eyes to see in the darkness, to take in the muted colors of something he wished to see forever, his Arthur.
Crowe laughed again, beautiful and deadly. “Honestly…” he flicked, and Arthur tumbled into space and disappeared without a trace.
“No.” Alfred whispered hoarsely, still not sure what was going on but wanting to stop it. Alfred’s eyes widened as Crowe turned to him. Oh God, what had just happened to Arthur why what this was just what – “It is a pity, Tungolbyre, that I cannot simply whisk you away as well. A true ornament at court. Anglia is too fae himself to be truly beautiful. But I wish I knew your true name, and then I could have you come with us regardless of the protections! Tell me?” Crowe’s smile was so sincere, it was like he was the Great Pumpkin for Linus's pumpkin patch. Something so pure and good and wonderful and beautiful was always good. Just look at Arthur. No matter what he did he was always good at heart. Just like Arthur, this smile was Arthur incarnate. What wasn't to trust? Alfred wanted so desperately that he wanted to tell him his name, whatever it was! He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “Ah, Anglia was smarter than I thought. I doubt you know your true name regardless. It’s alright though, I can rectify any doubts of you coming after us anyways.” Crowe started murmuring another long string of syllables.
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Crowe 1b/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-14 06:52 am (UTC)(link)Arthur snarled and began rapidly muttering long strings of syllables under his breath, and Alfred gaped as Arthur’s skin began to subtly glow.
Crowe smirked. “Really now, why don’t we just say, Cume.” He crooked his finger, and Arthur tumbled forward, off the bed and onto the floor. “You’ll get to meet your brothers again, and your mother, though she is far too far gone. Cume, into the Gewind you go.”
Alfred watched in horror as Arthur stood and took three halting steps forward, as if directed by an unskilled puppeteer. “Arthur!” he cried out. Arthur twitched to a halt and seemed to brace himself against an invisible doorframe. Alfred wanted to move, stop him, he was sure that whatever this was, he could stop him from leaving, whatever this Crowe was doing, he was stronger than anything else on the planet – Alfred tried to move, but he was frozen, and Alfred suddenly realized what it was that Arthur had caused with the whispering. Alfred struggled again but it held fast, and all he could see of Arthur was the faint headon ruffling of blond hair from a wind where there wasn’t supposed to be one. Arthur turned, and gave a daring smirk to Crowe as he finished his words, and Alfred could see his handsome profile, more beautiful and otherworldly than usual. Alfred strained his poor eyes to see in the darkness, to take in the muted colors of something he wished to see forever, his Arthur.
Crowe laughed again, beautiful and deadly. “Honestly…” he flicked, and Arthur tumbled into space and disappeared without a trace.
“No.” Alfred whispered hoarsely, still not sure what was going on but wanting to stop it. Alfred’s eyes widened as Crowe turned to him. Oh God, what had just happened to Arthur why what this was just what – “It is a pity, Tungolbyre, that I cannot simply whisk you away as well. A true ornament at court. Anglia is too fae himself to be truly beautiful. But I wish I knew your true name, and then I could have you come with us regardless of the protections! Tell me?” Crowe’s smile was so sincere, it was like he was the Great Pumpkin for Linus's pumpkin patch. Something so pure and good and wonderful and beautiful was always good. Just look at Arthur. No matter what he did he was always good at heart. Just like Arthur, this smile was Arthur incarnate. What wasn't to trust? Alfred wanted so desperately that he wanted to tell him his name, whatever it was! He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “Ah, Anglia was smarter than I thought. I doubt you know your true name regardless. It’s alright though, I can rectify any doubts of you coming after us anyways.” Crowe started murmuring another long string of syllables.