After asking better directions from a shopkeeper in Birmingham, Alfred ended up going to Holyhead to catch the ferry there. It had taken five hours to get there, and then more time to wait for the ferry, and another two hours after that to actually make the crossing. Then customs, and he was ready to punch someone. They were looking at his guns very suspiciously. Seriously, all these Europeans. He’d managed to convince the officials that they were collector’s items. Still, he wouldn’t mind sending his fist into someone’s face. One thought made him laugh so hard that the next guy over had looked at him like he was insane. He could actually punch someone now and not have to worry about killing them. And, when he found Arthur, he could give him a legit hug, and not have to worry about crushing him or anything! The thought made him perk up a bit, and made him ridiculously happy for the next fifteen minutes.
When he finally reached Connall’s door, he executed his normal knock, and was again surprised that it made practically no sound. Guess he’d just have to knock harder.
Finally, the door flew open, and there was Connall, looking at him with confusion. Really, people didn’t recognize him? “Hi Connall! Wassup?” Alfred asked cheerfully.
Confused recognition bloomed on Connall’s face. “Bloody, what the feck are you doing here? What happened to you? Stop acting the maggot, boyo. Where’s your fella, the dodder.” Connall peered around Alfred’s slim frame, trying to see what was behind him. “Nary didn’t know you with that cap on.” Connall, apparently done trying to find Arthur, looked up at him. Alfred wrinkled his nose a bit trying to wade his way through the slang. Connall always poured it on just cuz he knew he couldn’t understand him. Alfred sighed once he reached the last sentence. Yes, he had grabbed a ManU hat from Arthur’s car. At least Connall hadn’t commented on his body just yet. “The jammy gobshite isn’t here, is he?”
Alfred shook his head, reminded once more what had previously transpired, and then shoving it viciously back. “Can I come in?”
Connall nodded, and welcomed Alfred in. After retrieving two beers from his fridge and sitting down with him in the living room, Connall finally asked, fortunately dropping the overbearing slang. “So, this body isn’t normal, I’ve gathered, nor is Artie on his usual business thing. What happened?”
Alfred launched into an explanation of what had occurred the night before, supplementing his admittedly ineloquent explanation with gestures and sound effects. When he finished, Connall was fixing him with an intense stare. “Are you sure, sure sure, that Artie called him Crowe?” At Alfred’s nod, Connall swore violently.
“What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, worried beyond what he was worried before. Connall had to know something. And he did and apparently it was bad.
“Look, are you sure you’re this in love with that Mary Hick?” Connall didn’t even wait for a response, just waved a hand at him. “Ya, I know, I know. Look, you don’t know what you’re getting into with Crowe. Old Crowe. Jaysus fuck!” Connall slammed his beer bottle on the coffee table and wiped hurriedly at his eyes. “Let me… let me give you some history. He stole our Ma away back right before the Romans really got a foothold on the main isle. He got Darren around, eh, 1150 or so, and then Jamie around 1800. But he’s really been after Artie this entire time because he’s the one Ma most wanted to protect, the real crown jewel. I told him! I told him, I told him, I told him!” Connall yelled suddenly. He breathed heavily, then looked Alfred straight in the eye and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Caring is not an advantage with the fae, just another weakness for them to exploit.” Connall buried his face in his palms. Alfred blinked, trying to take it all in. That’s why he’d never met Darren, despite all that Arthur talked about him, and he hadn’t seen James since… well around 1800, actually. Connall raised his head and looked sheepish. “Sorry, laddie, I…” He ran a hand through cropped brown locks. Blue eyes looked up at Alfred, desperate and sad and frustrated all at once. “I don’t think you can get him back. All of us tried to bring Ma home, and it’s only gotten worse from there.”
“But I’m good at doing the impossible.” Alfred grinned, not exactly phased, but slightly more worried. He hid it well. “Besides, Arthur’s been doing a crap ton of protection crap on me for years.”
“But not if you go after him!” Connall stood suddenly, towering over Alfred, eyes grieving and petulant and worried. “Do you want everything he did to be in vain?!”
“No, but fuck I am going after him!” Alfred said, glaring up at him. “I don’t care, I’d rather be with him than not! I came to see if you could represent Arthur at the next meeting if we don’t make it back in time. And yes,” Alfred preempted the question, “I did ask Matt to take my place.”
Connall stared at him hard for a good thirty seconds. “Fine.” He said, then turned, and began to scan his bookshelves. “You’re completely thick, boyo.” He muttered. “Artie couldn’t get any sense into ya it seems.” Connall started tossing out books like they were worthless. “If you don’t come back, you know that Matthew will take your place and country into his own. You don’t want that. Here.” He flung a last book in Alfred’s direction, which Alfred caught deftly. “Start reading.”
Alfred opened the thin, leatherbound thing, and looked at the title page. Kirkland family property, it read. Do NOT read without express permission of the Kirklands, else ancient curse befall you. Alfred looked up at Connall and opened his mouth to ask about this whole curse thing.
“Ya, you can read it, I threw it at ya didn’t I, you babby.” Connall rolled his eyes at Alfred, who huffed again. What was it with this family that made him feel simultaneously like he was six and the only sane person in the room? Oh right, they believed in magic. Alfred shoved the thought that he most definitely believed in magic now as well to the back of his head. Really, the world was so much nicer when it was simply the two senile Kirkland brothers. No James, no Darren, no mother, no Arthur stolen away by the faeries.
Alfred flipped the page, and discovered a mass of carefully marked but utterly incomprehensible writing. Alfred stared at the page in disbelief, wondering how the hell he was supposed to read this. “Uh, Connall…” Alfred said, standing from the comfortable love seat. “I can’t, what is this, I mean –”
Connall slapped a palm to his face and muttered something indistinct. “Right then, I forgot that that’s in Old English. C’mere, you’ll need to know the language where you’re going.”
Alfred’s face twisted as he wondered exactly how that was going to help, internally panicking a little as he realized he probably couldn’t talk to anyone wherever Arthur was if he couldn’t even talk. Out of all the languages he did know (and he admittedly knew quite a few) Old English wasn’t one of them. “How am I supposed to learn it in time to rescue Arthur? Languages take months, and this one’s dead!” Alfred moaned.
Connall fixed him with a ‘look’ that made Alfred feel like a complete idiot. “You dope, can I or can I not do magic?”
Alfred felt like a fool and turned beet red. He slinked over to Connall, who snorted at his response. “Ah that’ll teach you. Remember, nothing is truly impossible, even you coming out of there alive, let alone with Artie.” Connall sighed. “It pains me a little that it’s this language; much better mine, but what have you, that’s Artie for you.” Connall began murmuring yet another long string of words, circling Alfred counterclockwise, and then clockwise again, touching his lips and temple and throat briefly. The contact made Alfred a little uncomfortable, but he stood still, something Arthur wouldn’t believe him capable of.
“There.” Connall finally said, coming to a stop in front of Alfred, and looked up at him. “Even I can cast a language learning spell, and a good one at that.”
Alfred smiled brightly. “Thanks Connall!” Connall cracked a small twitch of the lips as well. Alfred went back to the loveseat and sat, picking up that small book again. Title page, and then:
They have taken her away, away to Underhill. This is horrible, I was there. He was really tall, taller than Marcus, and very thin. And very beautiful, but not as beautiful as Mother. He laughed, and I never heard such a laugh before. Mother said his name was Crowe. We have to get her back. I must find and tell my brothers.
I talked to Clovehoofe today. He doesn’t like Crowe.
Darren cast another protection spell on me. He’s the oldest and best of us. I found him first. Together we are going north to find James. He sent a message to Connall. I wish he would teach me more magic.
James yelled at me when he found out. Darren was mean but defended me anyways. He calmed down when Darren told him we were going after Mother.
I wish I wasn’t so little. I look like a ten turned human. James put a spell on me today as well. Darren started teaching me more magic.
Connall arrived today. We are to go into Underhill soon. I’m taking my bow and arrow with me. Darren has a dragon friend. It’s just not fair.
We failed. It was very odd down there. Crowe laughed at us. I wish Clovehoofe could have come.
Here the writing changed, much more curved and circled, unlike the neat script of before.
As Arthur said above, we failed. I wish that the rest of them were all a little older! Especially Arthur, he has such potential! I feel horrible about Adain as well. He should not have had to do what he did. Crowe is a formidable opponent. I wouldn’t wish him on my worst enemy; wait that is him, isn’t it. I am glad we got out when we did. I fear James’s leg will never be the same again. I have however made a study of his strengths and weaknesses.
Strengths: Extremely well versed in illusing, as a craft and as a weapon. One of his favorite tactics is to appear along with several illusions which will all come out fighting at once. You never know which one is really him. This is how James’s leg was mutilated; he misjudged the real Crowe. I have found that you can counteract this if you send out a blanket spell; this will not affect the illusions but only the real Crowe. However, you must be able to pick him out immediately, for he is a master of shell games. He is extremely good at pulling others into his thrall. He almost got Arthur to go with him. I think my heart just about stopped. The brat is a menace, but even he should not have to live under Crowe.
Crowe never fights alone if he can help it. If he can choose the time and place of a battle, he will bring along an army of trolls and other Unseelies. Doesn’t fight fair, and always willing to use my little brothers against me. I must make an effort to protect them in the future. I worry most about Arthur. Crowe tried to lure him with promises of Mam. He is so similar to her. I am afraid he will try something foolish. No, I think not after this little adventure. He now knows our strengths and weaknesses as well. I would be disappointed if he was not making a similar list about us. Both Arthur and Connall must get better at magic or weapons before we try again. If we ever do. I wonder if Mam is beyond our reach yet. We never did see her…
Weaknesses: There are more of us. Even Connall, limited as he is, is an asset for us in this regard. Direct confrontations are not his forte, note the army. His illusing is also a weakness as he over relies on it to a certain extent. He fights in the shadows, draining strength from others, and pulling others under his power. Do not trust, Do not speak, and make sure you have every one of your own weaknesses covered when talking to him! I wonder if it would be to our advantage to stuff beeswax in our ears upon next confrontation.
Much Later: I must teach Arthur more magic. I will always know more, of course, as the eldest brother, and the closest to the Seelie Court. Connall is perhaps a lost cause in that regard. He has all these magics in his lands, but he seems unable to reach most of them. It frustrates all of us to no end. Perhaps I can get James to work a bit more with swords with him?
Connall left us today. I can understand why. All of us throwing around our magics, he was bound to get hit sometime. One of Arthur’s spells went wide, and I spent a better part of the afternoon patching up his arm while I had James and Arthur running drills with each other. Connall is jealous. I cannot help but feel that Crowe is somehow behind this. James thinks I am being ridiculous. I can feel it though!
James left today as well. We are dissolving to the winds, it seems. Perhaps when Arthur is better we can have another go at getting Mam back. I am not sure what she would represent though. I must stay with Arthur and protect him. Who knew the baby would need this much protecting? The protection circles are a bit draining, but I feel they are absolutely necessary. Five hundred years does prove that the normal things taken to extremes can protect against Crowe however. We must continue to be diligent.
Arthur seems quite taken with water magics. Cheeky brat.
I have arranged for one of my faeborn humans to teach Arthur more while I am out defending our little plot of land. Hopefully Merlin will be able to teach him what I in my limits cannot. I have yet to see Arthur even look fondly at a dragon.
We’re united, if only briefly. Pendragon named his illegitimate son after my brother. Wonderful. Arthur looks and acts around thirteen now. It is a relief for him to finally become a teenager, but all the ego trips that come with it are especially tiring. Some days I want to strangle him!
Merlin was taken today, not by Crowe, and perhaps I am feeling paranoid. Is he more than he seems?
Crowe came today, and looked at our camp from the outskirts of the clearing we had settled in. Very disturbing. Drew another circle of protection for Arthur.
The handwriting switched back to something between the original and Arthur’s current script, Alfred realized with a jolt to his heart.
I honestly was not expecting to find this in Darren’s things. I can’t believe he kept it after all these years. I need to get it rebound.
I went through Darren’s things because Crowe took him today. I can’t believe he took my older brother! My mother and now this! How are we going to get them back? Less importantly, Arthur was also killed today. All because of his Welsh Queen! I wonder what will happen to Darren’s people now. They are still his and I don’t think I can get them to unite under my banner. It doesn’t help that apparently I have a horrible accent.
Crowe is as unchanged and as changeable as ever. He came in the guise of one of the invaders. Darren didn’t realize it before it was too late. How am I going to get to James to tell him what went on? Darren was always best at that sort of magics.
I learned more though. Crowe is of the Unseelie Court. He is stealing us there to be the favorites for the Queen. Apparently she likes that we do not die nor age. I must make friends in the Seelie Court. Perhaps they loved Darren enough to want him back? I should make them love me too. The rest of my brothers hate me. How will I talk to James? He’s hated me, blames me for Mother. Will he blame me for Darren too? They were always the closest as the eldests.
Will we be able to get them back now? I am much better, and Darren was at least a little proud of how far I’ve come. I should have come far in six hundred years regardless. James has doubtless improved as well.
Crowe also calls us by our Roman names. I have not been called Albia for a long time. Caledonia and Cambria and Hibernia… Very odd to hear those names, but it fits them in some ways. It’s a part of who they were.
Followed a faerie ring today, and arrived at the Seelie Court. They were quite taken with me, actually, but their honor stops them from keeping me as they clearly wish to. They are still dangerous. Apparently I have a bit of fae blood in me, which explains this whole lot. I never realized that Gawain’s squire was actually of the Court. Darren had been pulling some strings it seems.
James arrived today, having received my messenger pigeon. Connall has yet to reply either way. James is mad, as I expected. He blames me, we fought. He seems impressed, thinks we might have a chance.
We failed again. Got less far than last time. The only thing I can think is that we must be better, though that may not be enough. James is less affectionate than normal, meaning he was bloodthirsty when we got back. Apparently my circle of protection works even against my kin. I am glad.
James got over himself. He cast another protection spell on me. He muttered something about not letting Darren’s care go to waste. It was… odd to see him so suddenly platonic.
The writing switched again. This time it was different, very slashed and daring and more indecipherable than the rest.
Fucking Arthur and his Unicorns! I wonder what will happen when he finally gets some ass and he’s no longer virginal. Darren and Arthur have always been ridiculously obsessed with magics. I trust my sword and caber much more than something so easily gone wrong. Ach, I… I miss Darren. I wish the invaders from the South weren’t here. I need to keep my own lands safe, so I hope Arthur can defend himself. Darren seems to have taught him a lot. Arthur’s magics, and mine even, can do a lot, but just Kirkland stubbornness also goes a long way in the world.
Crowe… I guess I understand Darren’s paranoia now. Will he come for me next? He does seem to be going in age order. That’s why I am getting out of here. Leaving Artie like this doesn’t seem very brotherly, but it’s the best I can do. I and my people are much safer in our home in the Highlands than in these Lowlands, with all of Artie’s and Darren’s bogs and frogs and fucking magic.
My magic is different, and I am grateful. A bit more rugged and less controlled, sure, but I feel it will serve me better in the end, as opposed to Arthur’s bag of tricks he’s picked up from every hedgewitch.
We still haven’t heard from Connall, but I am leaving today. I am taking the book with me. It’s too valuable to be left with Arthur. He could be invaded any day by soldiers from across the sea. Not a place to leave this book.
I amended the title page and added a curse. It’s a right nasty one at that. Turns you into a fluffy white rabbit. Any predator worth his salt can pick off a white rabbit. But I figured you ought to have a sporting chance, so it’ll give you sharp, pointed teeth as well! It really amuses me to no end. Sent word by sprite to Arthur and Connall. Connall didn’t reply, but Arthur thought it was quite funny as well. He seems to be handling those Normans well.
It’s been a thousand years since Mam was taken. Losses on that front.
Arthur’s under the delusion that we’re better off together so he’s trying to take us by force. Bastard. Kirkland stubbornness abounds.
We received word today from the Court that Connall has been taken by Crowe. I don’t know which is worse; that he was taken or that we weren’t looking for it. I blame myself. I was sitting up here in the Highlands hiding away because I couldn’t pull my head out of my arse in order to look at the others around me. If I hadn’t been so well hidden, I guess Crowe wouldn’t have needed to go out of order. And Connall was so weak too damnit! I remember what Darren said about family, what was it, five hundred years ago? Anyways, about protecting the small and sticking together. Perhaps we must find a middle ground. Sticking close didn’t work for him, staying far didn’t work for Connall.
Artie is as intolerable as ever. He keeps moping about Antonio having Empire. Annoying brat.
The writing switched back to neat script again, this time definitely Arthur’s writing.
I am not! Stupid blighter. I have found a new world, free from the stains of Crowe and the Unseelie Court. I found a small boy. France is determined to have him as well, and I cannot let this happen! I’ve named him Alfred. No magic on him anywhere, which is a relief. Though he is suspiciously strong… Odd, quite odd.
James and I have decided to band together. It’s all very loosey goosey, but we’ll muddle through, just like we always do. Connall’s lands are much, much less wanting to band under my flag than Darren’s were. It gives me some hope, just as it gives me frustration. Perhaps Connall isn’t as far gone yet.
Titannia and Oberon have little to say about it all. They are entirely unconcerned about Darren and Connall and Mother. They’ve other humans to occupy their time.
I must admit, now that all that nasty Civil War business is done, I find I have more time to dote on Alfred than ever. His lack of magic is energizing. He has nary a drop, and it’s quite refreshing!
I never knew refreshing would turn into a bit of a headache. Alfred doesn’t believe my fairy stories, and insists I’m crazy. I drew another circle of protection today just to be safe.
Why am I still doing long distance protection for Alfred? Why? He left me. I do know though. Crowe could very easily use him against me. What happened to my darling boy?
Crowe has taken James. It came as a bit of a shock, actually, I wasn’t expecting it so soon. It’s only been three hundred years since he took Connall… Three hundred years, blimey. I’m losing everyone it seems. First Alfred, now this. I know I won’t beat Crowe alone. Puck has told me as much. Puck was very sad to see James go; apparently he was as fond of James as he is me. I realized that all of their faces are becoming indistinct. I’ve decided to do a portrait of them in these pages, and we’ll see how good my memory is. The only thing I can do now is try to keep myself safe. I wish this that been different. I don’t like being the only one.
I’ve learned new magics from Parvati, ones I hope Crowe has yet to see. It was difficult, and I prefer my own, but what can I do but learn more and increase my bag of tricks? I continue to spell Alfred from afar. It is weaker, but far from me he is a lesser target. Safety in anonymity was never a good plan though. Every time I see one of my Empire, I spell time directly. It is quite tiring, but hopefully they will be safe.
I cannot believe it he’s back he’s bloody back oh Gaia thank you I must get him to write down better detail about how he escaped! Maybe we can use this knowledge to free James and Darren and Mum! Oh Connall I have never been so happy to see you!
The writing switched one last time, to something very curved, and in a way much neater than before. It was… very Irish, very Celtic, actually… Well, that said who that was.
I don’t think Artie has a full shilling anymore honestly. Absolutely bonkers. I manage to fight my way out and all he’s managed to do is just get out of a grand damn war! This is the part I do not miss about this world. The rest of the nations didn’t even realize I’d been gone. Artie’s precious Alfred is still ignorant of everything, which amuses, terrifies, and delights him to no end. I will never get what’s going on with those two. I wonder if Alfred realizes I overload my language with slang just to piss him off… Anyways, I am getting away from Artie’s crazy British Empire business as soon as I readjust to normal life. It’s… exhilarating to feel the hum of land and people directly in your veins. Underhill, I always felt it, sometimes forgot about it, but it was always muted. Right now all the dizzying emotions are tumbling over me like… like bard’s song without rest or reprieve. I’ve been away too long. But I’m done foostering about. Get off my lazy arse and do something for my country for the first time in five hundred years… blimey. It’s been a while. Well, around nine hundred for Darren, and one for Jamie.
I’m still not sure how I got out exactly, and while it’s funny to see how much it bothers Artie, I wish I could help more. Those weird Indian magics are odd as well. And… well, perhaps what I found in Artie’s basement best not be mentioned here.
I looked at Arthur’s little portraits of each of us, and it’s very close to how we used to look. Just not now. Underhill changes a person. I wonder what Mam looked like before. Arthur’s portrait is very incomplete.
Arthur shouldn’t spend so much time casting protections around everyone he knows. Caring is not an advantage with the Unseelie Court. Artie doesn’t care apparently, and won’t take my advice. He even cast one on me the other day. I couldn’t bring myself to stop him.
Artie’s lost his Empire, but got himself a fella instead. I’m officially an independent country by the by, but Artie knew it was coming and was generally very cordial about it. Perhaps he’s too worn out by the war to care.
Artie is taking protection to ridiculous extremes with Alfred. I mean honestly man… And their puppy love is disgusting. This probably isn’t the best place to complain about those two, but really! It’s also that I feel close to Darren and Jamie in this little book. It’s odd, to go from seeing one’s brothers every day for hundreds of years, and then suddenly having only baby Artie. It’s… very lonely, actually. At least Artie’s boy toy makes him forget about the fact that I can’t help him that much, in the remembering or the rescuing. I rarely wish I had more of a connection to my magic. But I wish I at least had faerie friends to talk to. I wonder what my familiar would be.
Alfred looked up, a little stunned. Well, he had some questions answered now. “So… so you came back?”
Connall glared at him. “What does it say there boyo? Yes, I managed to escape. Or perhaps I was allowed. Who knows?” Connall began to pace, tracing a well worn route in the carpet. “Do you see now what you’re getting into? How futile this whole thing is? How you’re practically giving up everything in this world to be enthralled at the Unseelie Court?”
“I won’t be enthralled.” Alfred said, running his hands over his thin arms, voice steady though his thoughts were running around like squirrels in his head. “I have natural defenses too.”
“Aye, that you do.” Connall said, stopping short and looking at him up and down. “You have your ridiculous amount of iron, and you are the most magicless person I have ever known. But lad… you don’t have your strength anymore do you?”
It was odd, to hear one of Arthur’s pet names come through lips that were so similar yet so different to his. Alfred stared down at his dress shoes in shame. It hit him again how the one thing that was really special about his was gone. He was suddenly once more aware how his clothes didn’t fit. He felt like Steve Rogers before the super serum.
“Yes, and that’s one more thing I need to get back.” Alfred said lowly. He wasn’t changing his mind. This was going to happen and this was going to succeed.
Connall looked at him, almost past him, once more. His slightly unshaven face twitched once, thick eyebrows pulled together in consideration for but a moment, and then he sprang into action. “Alright, there’s a couple things you need to know and do before you go. C’mere.” Connall took several short, quick strides back to Alfred’s loveseat, grabbed his wrist firmly, and pulled him up. Alfred stumbled once, and then followed Connall’s fast pace out of the room.
Alfred trailed after him curiously. He had never been inside Connall’s inner sanctum before. He had only seen around four rooms in the entire house before, most from the disastrous dinner a few years ago with Arthur. There was the entryway, where everything had been fine, and then the conversation in the living room where Alfred had understood about half of what Connall said, and then dining room and kitchen, where the food, jointly cooked by all of them, had simply been awful, and the worst thing Alfred had tasted in a long time. He had taken great pains to show that he still ate it though. It was really odd too, because Arthur’s cooking had actually been improving lately, and he had lost some of his tendency to overspice and oversalt everything. But then it had come back in full force, and Alfred had been too late to save the asparagus, for Arthur had dumped the full 26 oz container (yes, he had looked afterwards), into the mix. At least Alfred’s cookies had been okay, in the end. Though for weeks afterwards, Arthur had continued to oversalt… Alfred’s mind wandered back to Crowe’s comment about salt in the food, and suddenly it clicked. Arthur had been salting to protect them from the Unseelie Court (he still wasn’t sure exactly what this whole court business was, so he made a mental note to ask Connall). Alfred felt a rush of affection for Arthur, who had endured the world’s taunts for years. Perhaps, given what he’d found out about Connall being stolen away Underhill, right that’s what they’d called it, Arthur had been trying to protect his brother again, even simply through food. It was oddly reassuring, in a way…
Bang! Alfred was interrupted from his memories by knocking his head into a low doorframe, and he yelped in pain, rubbing his forehead with his forearm, glaring at the wooden arches, covered in runes and designs. Ahead of him, he heard a snort of laughter, along with the call of “Watch your nob!” Alfred sighed, resigned to his fate, ducked his head and continued on.
Up and around and down they went, twisting through passageways and slightly low ceilings that Alfred had to duck to make sure he didn’t hit his head again. After two minutes, Alfred was curious about how big the house was, and again suspected that Connall was simply leading him around to mess with him.
Finally, Alfred turned a corner and almost ran into Connall, who was muttering under his breath, hand hovering above the doorknob of an ancient looking door. Connall finished what he was saying, and Alfred heard a click, and the door swung inwards. Alfred’s jaw dropped. So this was magic, real magic. Why was Connall doing so much more than Alfred had ever seen Arthur doing? None of his locks were like this. “Connall…” Alfred asked, voicing his thoughts, and trying to be very careful about it, “How come you’re doing so much magic, when the book says you… well, you can’t?”
Connall’s face twisted an ugly shade and then sighed. “Come in and I’ll explain it to you.” Alfred followed behind obediently, and was immediately awestruck. The walls of the room were painted, spelled, whatever, so that there seemed to be a living forest all around them, complete with small bird sounds and the rustling of wind. The chest of drawers and a long, thick wooden table seemed both intimately right and incredibly out of place. Connall was rummaging around in the drawer second from the bottom, finally pulling out five glasses and, strangely, a bag of barley. He plunked them all down on the table with a satisfying, dull noise. Alfred sat in one of the chairs across from him, curious about everything in this amazing room.
“This,” Connall said, holding up one of the glasses, “is you.” He moved it forward and to Alfred’s far right. “You are completely free of even a drop of magic, by some freak of nature. Even your brother has a little. Everyone has a little, but it’s so small they don’t notice it normally. But you have nothing, just your bizarre strength, which seems to be tied to you personally as opposed to some sort of magical well inside you. You, boyo, are a deviation, a mutation, a deformity. But you seem to be getting on fine, so it’s alright.”
Connall held up the next glass. “This is me.” Connall extracted two grains of barley and dropped them with a plinking noise into the next glass, which he placed to the left of Alfred’s. “More than most people, not enough to do much with. I can do very simple spells, and I have to rest between them. What you saw is something Darren set up for me years ago. That locking spell is incredibly powerful, but I only have to provide the key, and I’m in. Very little magic goes into the actual opening. Arthur has rooms like that, you just probably haven’t seen them. He, after all, has to keep up appearances.” Connall sighed, and reached for the next glass.
“This is Jamie.” Connall grabbed a handful of barley and filled the glass three-quarters full. “This is Artie.” Connall filled the fourth glass up to the brim. “And this, this is Darren.” Connall slid the last glass forward and hefted the bag a little. The barley came spilling out, rushing in a flurry of brown and yellow till the glass was overflowing and completely buried. “He’s ridiculously powerful, and his time with the fae has only made it worse. He is the most magical nation, or human for that matter, on the planet. Darren practically breathes magic.” Connall picked up a grain and played with it in his fingertips. “Now, that also works against him. The Unseelie Court, in their relative brilliance, use all of their magics to hold them prisoner there. ‘Course, the more magic they have, the stronger the bonds are. I’m still not sure how, but I think that’s how I got out, since I have so little to begin with. But who knows? The fae sure aren’t telling.” Connall looked through Alfred again. “Any questions?”
Alfred’s head was spinning, and he stared at the barley. What? This was just… what? Alright. Alfred took a deep breath. Barley equals magic. More barley equals more magic. Darren has a lot. That was… pretty much it. Alfred shook his head hesitantly, sliding his glasses up his nose with his middle finger.
“Good man.” Connall moved past him, clapping him forcefully on the shoulder as he went by. Alfred jerked with the impact, and his throat went suddenly dry as he realized that wouldn’t have happened before. Alfred blinked, willing away the feeling of loss once more. “Fore!” came the shout, and Alfred caught a necklace that came sailing his way. As Alfred slowly examined it, he felt a thrill of joy that his baseball reflexes were still there.
Connall came ambling back, a slight smile on his face. “That there is a magical detection amulet. Here, put it on, let’s see if it works for you, given you have none. Give it here.” Alfred looked up into Connall’s fond eyes curiously, and placed the strung clay pendant in his palm. He wondered what it would do exactly. “Now close your eyes.”
Alfred did as he was told, and felt Connall drape the necklace over him. “Open.” Alfred gasped audibly, awed by everything around him. The room was an intricate lace and detail of swirls and runes and patterns all glowing in a soft blue light. It seemed almost alive, with currents of light running playfully and non-uniformly around their rings and knots. Alfred stood unconsciously and spun, mouth open slightly, trying to look at everything at once. The barley grains on the table glowed green, oh and look at that the door was a beautiful bright purple. Alfred looked at Connall, and was amazed at the soft white light that filled his person. It was… beautiful… Alfred looked down at himself. Nothing. Well no, the amulet was softly blue, but other than that… nothing. It made him… immensely disappointed.
“See?” Connall whispered, softly, conscious of his state. “That’s why you’re so beautiful to the Unseelie. You aren’t a drop fae. And that, to all of us that have some blood, is lovely. Oh, to be sure, you’re handsome on your own, with yon locks of gold and whatnot. But you’re peaceful, and normal, and completely yourself, at all times. I know that amulet can’t show it, but your soul is incredibly pure, free from magic’s corruption. What you seewith me,” Connall gestured to himself with a sweep of his hands, “is nothing compared to the others. I have just enough not to be pure, but never enough to be truly impressive. But don’t you see?” Connall went on, a little excited now. “They won’t be able to see you! You’re completely off their radar! That is the only reason I’m letting you go is because you can hide. Artie would kill me otherwise…”
In a flash, Connall pulled the amulet off Alfred’s neck, and the room became instantly normal again. Alfred immediately felt a sense of loss. “Don’t let it bother you, boyo. As appealing as all of this is, you don’t want a part of it. So I have to ask you again, do you want a part of this? Are you completely sure you want to risk everything?” Connall was staring deeply into Alfred’s eyes, something Alfred found incredibly disconcerting. He nodded hesitantly. Connall sighed and turned again. “Just one last thing. See the glasses there?” Connall pointed at the barley. “Added together, you get Crowe.”
Alfred gulped. The reality of what he was about to do was finally setting in. How could he even hope to succeed? He clenched his fists, bitten fingernails biting into his palm. Unconsciously, Alfred’s mind flew back to that moment before Arthur disappeared to Underhill, when his profile was backlit from the rushing winds behind him, beautiful, perfect, smirking, and in all ways utterly Arthur. He had to go. “I’m going.” Alfred said shortly, building up his resolve. He planted his feet firmly on the floor.
Connall looked hard at Alfred. “Look, I’ve always liked you, specky Four-eyes, and just… before you do this very drastic, very stupid thing… Bollocks.” Connall sighed, and then continued. “You know that Artie’s done some very dark magic, and that he’s not as… pure as you, yes?” Connall’s face was unchanging and hard. “In trying to get his magic to equal Crowe’s, he’s done some not good things…”
“My cow died last night, so I don’t need your bull!” Alfred said hotly, righteous indignation welling up inside him on Arthur’s behalf. “If you think that’ll make me stop loving him or abandon him, then you’ve got another thing coming!” Alfred took an aggressive half step forward.
“Alright, alright, cool your bleedin’ handkerchief!” Connall said, holding his hands up. “I’ll let you go on your fool’s errand.” Connall turned, and snatched up the amulet from the table. “Take this, but don’t wear it more than absolutely necessary. It can wear out.” He tossed it underhand to Alfred, and smiled a little feebly. “Best get you off as quickly as possible then. Come on, let’s get you to Brú na Bóinne.”
And here it is! Extra long to make up for the wait. Please comment! I love all comments! Tell me how you like Connall!
This is fantastic! I love the background with the history mixing in with the magic and I love Connell and I love everything! Fabulous! Keep up the good work!
Odd that Connall can't access most of his magic. I can't see why that'd be. Seems very in character that he'd be deliberately annoying to Alfred, though, ha ha.
I liked the explanation for Arthur's determination to unite the 'family', so to speak. And his jealousy of Spain, that was funny. I shall have to steal it.
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Crowe 3a/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:14 am (UTC)(link)When he finally reached Connall’s door, he executed his normal knock, and was again surprised that it made practically no sound. Guess he’d just have to knock harder.
Finally, the door flew open, and there was Connall, looking at him with confusion. Really, people didn’t recognize him? “Hi Connall! Wassup?” Alfred asked cheerfully.
Confused recognition bloomed on Connall’s face. “Bloody, what the feck are you doing here? What happened to you? Stop acting the maggot, boyo. Where’s your fella, the dodder.” Connall peered around Alfred’s slim frame, trying to see what was behind him. “Nary didn’t know you with that cap on.” Connall, apparently done trying to find Arthur, looked up at him. Alfred wrinkled his nose a bit trying to wade his way through the slang. Connall always poured it on just cuz he knew he couldn’t understand him. Alfred sighed once he reached the last sentence. Yes, he had grabbed a ManU hat from Arthur’s car. At least Connall hadn’t commented on his body just yet. “The jammy gobshite isn’t here, is he?”
Alfred shook his head, reminded once more what had previously transpired, and then shoving it viciously back. “Can I come in?”
Connall nodded, and welcomed Alfred in. After retrieving two beers from his fridge and sitting down with him in the living room, Connall finally asked, fortunately dropping the overbearing slang. “So, this body isn’t normal, I’ve gathered, nor is Artie on his usual business thing. What happened?”
Alfred launched into an explanation of what had occurred the night before, supplementing his admittedly ineloquent explanation with gestures and sound effects. When he finished, Connall was fixing him with an intense stare. “Are you sure, sure sure, that Artie called him Crowe?” At Alfred’s nod, Connall swore violently.
“What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, worried beyond what he was worried before. Connall had to know something. And he did and apparently it was bad.
Re: Crowe 3b/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:15 am (UTC)(link)“But I’m good at doing the impossible.” Alfred grinned, not exactly phased, but slightly more worried. He hid it well. “Besides, Arthur’s been doing a crap ton of protection crap on me for years.”
“But not if you go after him!” Connall stood suddenly, towering over Alfred, eyes grieving and petulant and worried. “Do you want everything he did to be in vain?!”
“No, but fuck I am going after him!” Alfred said, glaring up at him. “I don’t care, I’d rather be with him than not! I came to see if you could represent Arthur at the next meeting if we don’t make it back in time. And yes,” Alfred preempted the question, “I did ask Matt to take my place.”
Connall stared at him hard for a good thirty seconds. “Fine.” He said, then turned, and began to scan his bookshelves. “You’re completely thick, boyo.” He muttered. “Artie couldn’t get any sense into ya it seems.” Connall started tossing out books like they were worthless. “If you don’t come back, you know that Matthew will take your place and country into his own. You don’t want that. Here.” He flung a last book in Alfred’s direction, which Alfred caught deftly. “Start reading.”
Alfred opened the thin, leatherbound thing, and looked at the title page. Kirkland family property, it read. Do NOT read without express permission of the Kirklands, else ancient curse befall you. Alfred looked up at Connall and opened his mouth to ask about this whole curse thing.
“Ya, you can read it, I threw it at ya didn’t I, you babby.” Connall rolled his eyes at Alfred, who huffed again. What was it with this family that made him feel simultaneously like he was six and the only sane person in the room? Oh right, they believed in magic. Alfred shoved the thought that he most definitely believed in magic now as well to the back of his head. Really, the world was so much nicer when it was simply the two senile Kirkland brothers. No James, no Darren, no mother, no Arthur stolen away by the faeries.
Alfred flipped the page, and discovered a mass of carefully marked but utterly incomprehensible writing. Alfred stared at the page in disbelief, wondering how the hell he was supposed to read this. “Uh, Connall…” Alfred said, standing from the comfortable love seat. “I can’t, what is this, I mean –”
Connall slapped a palm to his face and muttered something indistinct. “Right then, I forgot that that’s in Old English. C’mere, you’ll need to know the language where you’re going.”
Crowe 3c/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:17 am (UTC)(link)Connall fixed him with a ‘look’ that made Alfred feel like a complete idiot. “You dope, can I or can I not do magic?”
Alfred felt like a fool and turned beet red. He slinked over to Connall, who snorted at his response. “Ah that’ll teach you. Remember, nothing is truly impossible, even you coming out of there alive, let alone with Artie.” Connall sighed. “It pains me a little that it’s this language; much better mine, but what have you, that’s Artie for you.” Connall began murmuring yet another long string of words, circling Alfred counterclockwise, and then clockwise again, touching his lips and temple and throat briefly. The contact made Alfred a little uncomfortable, but he stood still, something Arthur wouldn’t believe him capable of.
“There.” Connall finally said, coming to a stop in front of Alfred, and looked up at him. “Even I can cast a language learning spell, and a good one at that.”
Alfred smiled brightly. “Thanks Connall!” Connall cracked a small twitch of the lips as well. Alfred went back to the loveseat and sat, picking up that small book again. Title page, and then:
They have taken her away, away to Underhill. This is horrible, I was there. He was really tall, taller than Marcus, and very thin. And very beautiful, but not as beautiful as Mother. He laughed, and I never heard such a laugh before. Mother said his name was Crowe. We have to get her back. I must find and tell my brothers.
I talked to Clovehoofe today. He doesn’t like Crowe.
Darren cast another protection spell on me. He’s the oldest and best of us. I found him first. Together we are going north to find James. He sent a message to Connall. I wish he would teach me more magic.
James yelled at me when he found out. Darren was mean but defended me anyways. He calmed down when Darren told him we were going after Mother.
I wish I wasn’t so little. I look like a ten turned human. James put a spell on me today as well. Darren started teaching me more magic.
Connall arrived today. We are to go into Underhill soon. I’m taking my bow and arrow with me. Darren has a dragon friend. It’s just not fair.
We failed. It was very odd down there. Crowe laughed at us. I wish Clovehoofe could have come.
Here the writing changed, much more curved and circled, unlike the neat script of before.
As Arthur said above, we failed. I wish that the rest of them were all a little older! Especially Arthur, he has such potential! I feel horrible about Adain as well. He should not have had to do what he did. Crowe is a formidable opponent. I wouldn’t wish him on my worst enemy; wait that is him, isn’t it. I am glad we got out when we did. I fear James’s leg will never be the same again. I have however made a study of his strengths and weaknesses.
Strengths:
Extremely well versed in illusing, as a craft and as a weapon. One of his favorite tactics is to appear along with several illusions which will all come out fighting at once. You never know which one is really him. This is how James’s leg was mutilated; he misjudged the real Crowe. I have found that you can counteract this if you send out a blanket spell; this will not affect the illusions but only the real Crowe. However, you must be able to pick him out immediately, for he is a master of shell games.
He is extremely good at pulling others into his thrall. He almost got Arthur to go with him. I think my heart just about stopped. The brat is a menace, but even he should not have to live under Crowe.
Crowe 3d/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:19 am (UTC)(link)He now knows our strengths and weaknesses as well. I would be disappointed if he was not making a similar list about us. Both Arthur and Connall must get better at magic or weapons before we try again. If we ever do. I wonder if Mam is beyond our reach yet. We never did see her…
Weaknesses:
There are more of us. Even Connall, limited as he is, is an asset for us in this regard.
Direct confrontations are not his forte, note the army. His illusing is also a weakness as he over relies on it to a certain extent. He fights in the shadows, draining strength from others, and pulling others under his power. Do not trust, Do not speak, and make sure you have every one of your own weaknesses covered when talking to him! I wonder if it would be to our advantage to stuff beeswax in our ears upon next confrontation.
Much Later:
I must teach Arthur more magic. I will always know more, of course, as the eldest brother, and the closest to the Seelie Court. Connall is perhaps a lost cause in that regard. He has all these magics in his lands, but he seems unable to reach most of them. It frustrates all of us to no end. Perhaps I can get James to work a bit more with swords with him?
Connall left us today. I can understand why. All of us throwing around our magics, he was bound to get hit sometime. One of Arthur’s spells went wide, and I spent a better part of the afternoon patching up his arm while I had James and Arthur running drills with each other. Connall is jealous. I cannot help but feel that Crowe is somehow behind this. James thinks I am being ridiculous. I can feel it though!
James left today as well. We are dissolving to the winds, it seems. Perhaps when Arthur is better we can have another go at getting Mam back. I am not sure what she would represent though. I must stay with Arthur and protect him. Who knew the baby would need this much protecting? The protection circles are a bit draining, but I feel they are absolutely necessary. Five hundred years does prove that the normal things taken to extremes can protect against Crowe however. We must continue to be diligent.
Arthur seems quite taken with water magics. Cheeky brat.
I have arranged for one of my faeborn humans to teach Arthur more while I am out defending our little plot of land. Hopefully Merlin will be able to teach him what I in my limits cannot. I have yet to see Arthur even look fondly at a dragon.
We’re united, if only briefly. Pendragon named his illegitimate son after my brother. Wonderful. Arthur looks and acts around thirteen now. It is a relief for him to finally become a teenager, but all the ego trips that come with it are especially tiring. Some days I want to strangle him!
Merlin was taken today, not by Crowe, and perhaps I am feeling paranoid. Is he more than he seems?
Crowe came today, and looked at our camp from the outskirts of the clearing we had settled in. Very disturbing. Drew another circle of protection for Arthur.
The handwriting switched back to something between the original and Arthur’s current script, Alfred realized with a jolt to his heart.
I honestly was not expecting to find this in Darren’s things. I can’t believe he kept it after all these years. I need to get it rebound.
I went through Darren’s things because Crowe took him today. I can’t believe he took my older brother! My mother and now this! How are we going to get them back? Less importantly, Arthur was also killed today. All because of his Welsh Queen! I wonder what will happen to Darren’s people now. They are still his and I don’t think I can get them to unite under my banner. It doesn’t help that apparently I have a horrible accent.
Crowe 3e/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:20 am (UTC)(link)I learned more though. Crowe is of the Unseelie Court. He is stealing us there to be the favorites for the Queen. Apparently she likes that we do not die nor age. I must make friends in the Seelie Court. Perhaps they loved Darren enough to want him back? I should make them love me too. The rest of my brothers hate me. How will I talk to James? He’s hated me, blames me for Mother. Will he blame me for Darren too? They were always the closest as the eldests.
Will we be able to get them back now? I am much better, and Darren was at least a little proud of how far I’ve come. I should have come far in six hundred years regardless. James has doubtless improved as well.
Crowe also calls us by our Roman names. I have not been called Albia for a long time. Caledonia and Cambria and Hibernia… Very odd to hear those names, but it fits them in some ways. It’s a part of who they were.
Followed a faerie ring today, and arrived at the Seelie Court. They were quite taken with me, actually, but their honor stops them from keeping me as they clearly wish to. They are still dangerous. Apparently I have a bit of fae blood in me, which explains this whole lot. I never realized that Gawain’s squire was actually of the Court. Darren had been pulling some strings it seems.
James arrived today, having received my messenger pigeon. Connall has yet to reply either way. James is mad, as I expected. He blames me, we fought. He seems impressed, thinks we might have a chance.
We failed again. Got less far than last time. The only thing I can think is that we must be better, though that may not be enough. James is less affectionate than normal, meaning he was bloodthirsty when we got back. Apparently my circle of protection works even against my kin. I am glad.
James got over himself. He cast another protection spell on me. He muttered something about not letting Darren’s care go to waste. It was… odd to see him so suddenly platonic.
The writing switched again. This time it was different, very slashed and daring and more indecipherable than the rest.
Fucking Arthur and his Unicorns! I wonder what will happen when he finally gets some ass and he’s no longer virginal. Darren and Arthur have always been ridiculously obsessed with magics. I trust my sword and caber much more than something so easily gone wrong. Ach, I… I miss Darren. I wish the invaders from the South weren’t here. I need to keep my own lands safe, so I hope Arthur can defend himself. Darren seems to have taught him a lot. Arthur’s magics, and mine even, can do a lot, but just Kirkland stubbornness also goes a long way in the world.
Crowe… I guess I understand Darren’s paranoia now. Will he come for me next? He does seem to be going in age order. That’s why I am getting out of here. Leaving Artie like this doesn’t seem very brotherly, but it’s the best I can do. I and my people are much safer in our home in the Highlands than in these Lowlands, with all of Artie’s and Darren’s bogs and frogs and fucking magic.
My magic is different, and I am grateful. A bit more rugged and less controlled, sure, but I feel it will serve me better in the end, as opposed to Arthur’s bag of tricks he’s picked up from every hedgewitch.
We still haven’t heard from Connall, but I am leaving today. I am taking the book with me. It’s too valuable to be left with Arthur. He could be invaded any day by soldiers from across the sea. Not a place to leave this book.
I amended the title page and added a curse. It’s a right nasty one at that. Turns you into a fluffy white rabbit. Any predator worth his salt can pick off a white rabbit. But I figured you ought to have a sporting chance, so it’ll give you sharp, pointed teeth as well! It really amuses me to no end. Sent word by sprite to Arthur and Connall. Connall didn’t reply, but Arthur thought it was quite funny as well. He seems to be handling those Normans well.
It’s been a thousand years since Mam was taken. Losses on that front.
Crowe 3f/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:22 am (UTC)(link)We received word today from the Court that Connall has been taken by Crowe. I don’t know which is worse; that he was taken or that we weren’t looking for it. I blame myself. I was sitting up here in the Highlands hiding away because I couldn’t pull my head out of my arse in order to look at the others around me. If I hadn’t been so well hidden, I guess Crowe wouldn’t have needed to go out of order. And Connall was so weak too damnit! I remember what Darren said about family, what was it, five hundred years ago? Anyways, about protecting the small and sticking together. Perhaps we must find a middle ground. Sticking close didn’t work for him, staying far didn’t work for Connall.
Artie is as intolerable as ever. He keeps moping about Antonio having Empire. Annoying brat.
The writing switched back to neat script again, this time definitely Arthur’s writing.
I am not! Stupid blighter. I have found a new world, free from the stains of Crowe and the Unseelie Court. I found a small boy. France is determined to have him as well, and I cannot let this happen! I’ve named him Alfred. No magic on him anywhere, which is a relief. Though he is suspiciously strong… Odd, quite odd.
James and I have decided to band together. It’s all very loosey goosey, but we’ll muddle through, just like we always do. Connall’s lands are much, much less wanting to band under my flag than Darren’s were. It gives me some hope, just as it gives me frustration. Perhaps Connall isn’t as far gone yet.
Titannia and Oberon have little to say about it all. They are entirely unconcerned about Darren and Connall and Mother. They’ve other humans to occupy their time.
I must admit, now that all that nasty Civil War business is done, I find I have more time to dote on Alfred than ever. His lack of magic is energizing. He has nary a drop, and it’s quite refreshing!
I never knew refreshing would turn into a bit of a headache. Alfred doesn’t believe my fairy stories, and insists I’m crazy. I drew another circle of protection today just to be safe.
Why am I still doing long distance protection for Alfred? Why? He left me. I do know though. Crowe could very easily use him against me. What happened to my darling boy?
Crowe has taken James. It came as a bit of a shock, actually, I wasn’t expecting it so soon. It’s only been three hundred years since he took Connall… Three hundred years, blimey. I’m losing everyone it seems. First Alfred, now this. I know I won’t beat Crowe alone. Puck has told me as much. Puck was very sad to see James go; apparently he was as fond of James as he is me. I realized that all of their faces are becoming indistinct. I’ve decided to do a portrait of them in these pages, and we’ll see how good my memory is. The only thing I can do now is try to keep myself safe. I wish this that been different. I don’t like being the only one.
I’ve learned new magics from Parvati, ones I hope Crowe has yet to see. It was difficult, and I prefer my own, but what can I do but learn more and increase my bag of tricks? I continue to spell Alfred from afar. It is weaker, but far from me he is a lesser target. Safety in anonymity was never a good plan though. Every time I see one of my Empire, I spell time directly. It is quite tiring, but hopefully they will be safe.
I cannot believe it he’s back he’s bloody back oh Gaia thank you I must get him to write down better detail about how he escaped! Maybe we can use this knowledge to free James and Darren and Mum! Oh Connall I have never been so happy to see you!
The writing switched one last time, to something very curved, and in a way much neater than before. It was… very Irish, very Celtic, actually… Well, that said who that was.
Re: Crowe 3f/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:23 am (UTC)(link)I’m still not sure how I got out exactly, and while it’s funny to see how much it bothers Artie, I wish I could help more. Those weird Indian magics are odd as well. And… well, perhaps what I found in Artie’s basement best not be mentioned here.
I looked at Arthur’s little portraits of each of us, and it’s very close to how we used to look. Just not now. Underhill changes a person. I wonder what Mam looked like before. Arthur’s portrait is very incomplete.
Arthur shouldn’t spend so much time casting protections around everyone he knows. Caring is not an advantage with the Unseelie Court. Artie doesn’t care apparently, and won’t take my advice. He even cast one on me the other day. I couldn’t bring myself to stop him.
Artie’s lost his Empire, but got himself a fella instead. I’m officially an independent country by the by, but Artie knew it was coming and was generally very cordial about it. Perhaps he’s too worn out by the war to care.
Artie is taking protection to ridiculous extremes with Alfred. I mean honestly man… And their puppy love is disgusting. This probably isn’t the best place to complain about those two, but really! It’s also that I feel close to Darren and Jamie in this little book. It’s odd, to go from seeing one’s brothers every day for hundreds of years, and then suddenly having only baby Artie. It’s… very lonely, actually. At least Artie’s boy toy makes him forget about the fact that I can’t help him that much, in the remembering or the rescuing. I rarely wish I had more of a connection to my magic. But I wish I at least had faerie friends to talk to. I wonder what my familiar would be.
Alfred looked up, a little stunned. Well, he had some questions answered now. “So… so you came back?”
Connall glared at him. “What does it say there boyo? Yes, I managed to escape. Or perhaps I was allowed. Who knows?” Connall began to pace, tracing a well worn route in the carpet. “Do you see now what you’re getting into? How futile this whole thing is? How you’re practically giving up everything in this world to be enthralled at the Unseelie Court?”
“I won’t be enthralled.” Alfred said, running his hands over his thin arms, voice steady though his thoughts were running around like squirrels in his head. “I have natural defenses too.”
“Aye, that you do.” Connall said, stopping short and looking at him up and down. “You have your ridiculous amount of iron, and you are the most magicless person I have ever known. But lad… you don’t have your strength anymore do you?”
It was odd, to hear one of Arthur’s pet names come through lips that were so similar yet so different to his. Alfred stared down at his dress shoes in shame. It hit him again how the one thing that was really special about his was gone. He was suddenly once more aware how his clothes didn’t fit. He felt like Steve Rogers before the super serum.
“Yes, and that’s one more thing I need to get back.” Alfred said lowly. He wasn’t changing his mind. This was going to happen and this was going to succeed.
Crowe 3h/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:25 am (UTC)(link)Alfred trailed after him curiously. He had never been inside Connall’s inner sanctum before. He had only seen around four rooms in the entire house before, most from the disastrous dinner a few years ago with Arthur. There was the entryway, where everything had been fine, and then the conversation in the living room where Alfred had understood about half of what Connall said, and then dining room and kitchen, where the food, jointly cooked by all of them, had simply been awful, and the worst thing Alfred had tasted in a long time. He had taken great pains to show that he still ate it though. It was really odd too, because Arthur’s cooking had actually been improving lately, and he had lost some of his tendency to overspice and oversalt everything. But then it had come back in full force, and Alfred had been too late to save the asparagus, for Arthur had dumped the full 26 oz container (yes, he had looked afterwards), into the mix. At least Alfred’s cookies had been okay, in the end. Though for weeks afterwards, Arthur had continued to oversalt… Alfred’s mind wandered back to Crowe’s comment about salt in the food, and suddenly it clicked. Arthur had been salting to protect them from the Unseelie Court (he still wasn’t sure exactly what this whole court business was, so he made a mental note to ask Connall). Alfred felt a rush of affection for Arthur, who had endured the world’s taunts for years. Perhaps, given what he’d found out about Connall being stolen away Underhill, right that’s what they’d called it, Arthur had been trying to protect his brother again, even simply through food. It was oddly reassuring, in a way…
Bang! Alfred was interrupted from his memories by knocking his head into a low doorframe, and he yelped in pain, rubbing his forehead with his forearm, glaring at the wooden arches, covered in runes and designs. Ahead of him, he heard a snort of laughter, along with the call of “Watch your nob!” Alfred sighed, resigned to his fate, ducked his head and continued on.
Up and around and down they went, twisting through passageways and slightly low ceilings that Alfred had to duck to make sure he didn’t hit his head again. After two minutes, Alfred was curious about how big the house was, and again suspected that Connall was simply leading him around to mess with him.
Finally, Alfred turned a corner and almost ran into Connall, who was muttering under his breath, hand hovering above the doorknob of an ancient looking door. Connall finished what he was saying, and Alfred heard a click, and the door swung inwards. Alfred’s jaw dropped. So this was magic, real magic. Why was Connall doing so much more than Alfred had ever seen Arthur doing? None of his locks were like this. “Connall…” Alfred asked, voicing his thoughts, and trying to be very careful about it, “How come you’re doing so much magic, when the book says you… well, you can’t?”
Connall’s face twisted an ugly shade and then sighed. “Come in and I’ll explain it to you.” Alfred followed behind obediently, and was immediately awestruck. The walls of the room were painted, spelled, whatever, so that there seemed to be a living forest all around them, complete with small bird sounds and the rustling of wind. The chest of drawers and a long, thick wooden table seemed both intimately right and incredibly out of place. Connall was rummaging around in the drawer second from the bottom, finally pulling out five glasses and, strangely, a bag of barley. He plunked them all down on the table with a satisfying, dull noise. Alfred sat in one of the chairs across from him, curious about everything in this amazing room.
Crowe 3i/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:26 am (UTC)(link)Connall held up the next glass. “This is me.” Connall extracted two grains of barley and dropped them with a plinking noise into the next glass, which he placed to the left of Alfred’s. “More than most people, not enough to do much with. I can do very simple spells, and I have to rest between them. What you saw is something Darren set up for me years ago. That locking spell is incredibly powerful, but I only have to provide the key, and I’m in. Very little magic goes into the actual opening. Arthur has rooms like that, you just probably haven’t seen them. He, after all, has to keep up appearances.” Connall sighed, and reached for the next glass.
“This is Jamie.” Connall grabbed a handful of barley and filled the glass three-quarters full. “This is Artie.” Connall filled the fourth glass up to the brim. “And this, this is Darren.” Connall slid the last glass forward and hefted the bag a little. The barley came spilling out, rushing in a flurry of brown and yellow till the glass was overflowing and completely buried. “He’s ridiculously powerful, and his time with the fae has only made it worse. He is the most magical nation, or human for that matter, on the planet. Darren practically breathes magic.” Connall picked up a grain and played with it in his fingertips. “Now, that also works against him. The Unseelie Court, in their relative brilliance, use all of their magics to hold them prisoner there. ‘Course, the more magic they have, the stronger the bonds are. I’m still not sure how, but I think that’s how I got out, since I have so little to begin with. But who knows? The fae sure aren’t telling.” Connall looked through Alfred again. “Any questions?”
Alfred’s head was spinning, and he stared at the barley. What? This was just… what? Alright. Alfred took a deep breath. Barley equals magic. More barley equals more magic. Darren has a lot. That was… pretty much it. Alfred shook his head hesitantly, sliding his glasses up his nose with his middle finger.
“Good man.” Connall moved past him, clapping him forcefully on the shoulder as he went by. Alfred jerked with the impact, and his throat went suddenly dry as he realized that wouldn’t have happened before. Alfred blinked, willing away the feeling of loss once more. “Fore!” came the shout, and Alfred caught a necklace that came sailing his way. As Alfred slowly examined it, he felt a thrill of joy that his baseball reflexes were still there.
Connall came ambling back, a slight smile on his face. “That there is a magical detection amulet. Here, put it on, let’s see if it works for you, given you have none. Give it here.” Alfred looked up into Connall’s fond eyes curiously, and placed the strung clay pendant in his palm. He wondered what it would do exactly. “Now close your eyes.”
Alfred did as he was told, and felt Connall drape the necklace over him. “Open.” Alfred gasped audibly, awed by everything around him. The room was an intricate lace and detail of swirls and runes and patterns all glowing in a soft blue light. It seemed almost alive, with currents of light running playfully and non-uniformly around their rings and knots. Alfred stood unconsciously and spun, mouth open slightly, trying to look at everything at once. The barley grains on the table glowed green, oh and look at that the door was a beautiful bright purple. Alfred looked at Connall, and was amazed at the soft white light that filled his person. It was… beautiful… Alfred looked down at himself. Nothing. Well no, the amulet was softly blue, but other than that… nothing. It made him… immensely disappointed.
Crowe 3j/?
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 02:28 am (UTC)(link)In a flash, Connall pulled the amulet off Alfred’s neck, and the room became instantly normal again. Alfred immediately felt a sense of loss. “Don’t let it bother you, boyo. As appealing as all of this is, you don’t want a part of it. So I have to ask you again, do you want a part of this? Are you completely sure you want to risk everything?” Connall was staring deeply into Alfred’s eyes, something Alfred found incredibly disconcerting. He nodded hesitantly. Connall sighed and turned again. “Just one last thing. See the glasses there?” Connall pointed at the barley. “Added together, you get Crowe.”
Alfred gulped. The reality of what he was about to do was finally setting in. How could he even hope to succeed? He clenched his fists, bitten fingernails biting into his palm. Unconsciously, Alfred’s mind flew back to that moment before Arthur disappeared to Underhill, when his profile was backlit from the rushing winds behind him, beautiful, perfect, smirking, and in all ways utterly Arthur. He had to go. “I’m going.” Alfred said shortly, building up his resolve. He planted his feet firmly on the floor.
Connall looked hard at Alfred. “Look, I’ve always liked you, specky Four-eyes, and just… before you do this very drastic, very stupid thing… Bollocks.” Connall sighed, and then continued. “You know that Artie’s done some very dark magic, and that he’s not as… pure as you, yes?” Connall’s face was unchanging and hard. “In trying to get his magic to equal Crowe’s, he’s done some not good things…”
“My cow died last night, so I don’t need your bull!” Alfred said hotly, righteous indignation welling up inside him on Arthur’s behalf. “If you think that’ll make me stop loving him or abandon him, then you’ve got another thing coming!” Alfred took an aggressive half step forward.
“Alright, alright, cool your bleedin’ handkerchief!” Connall said, holding his hands up. “I’ll let you go on your fool’s errand.” Connall turned, and snatched up the amulet from the table. “Take this, but don’t wear it more than absolutely necessary. It can wear out.” He tossed it underhand to Alfred, and smiled a little feebly. “Best get you off as quickly as possible then. Come on, let’s get you to Brú na Bóinne.”
And here it is! Extra long to make up for the wait. Please comment! I love all comments! Tell me how you like Connall!
Crowe 3j/? AN addition
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 04:15 am (UTC)(link)Arthur: Italicized Garamond
Darren: Tiranti Solid LET
James: John Handy LET
Connall: ParkAvenue BT
Re: Crowe 3j/? AN addition
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 04:16 am (UTC)(link)Re: Crowe 3j/? AN addition
(Anonymous) 2012-07-20 06:29 am (UTC)(link)I liked the explanation for Arthur's determination to unite the 'family', so to speak. And his jealousy of Spain, that was funny.
I shall have to steal it.