Through the Mists of Time
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marysuevirusTitle: Through the Mists of Time
Chapter Five: Myth and Legend
Fandom: the Marvel universe with a heavy dose of fantasy
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs todazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar .
Author's Notes: i hate my brain. i really do. because it doesn't want to focus on anything i should be working on. instead, it throws all kinds of new ideas at me. this is one of them. it is a magic heavy AU and i hope that my writing can live up to the shit that's in my head because... it is vast and beautiful and amazing
Through the Mists of Time - The Index
There was a hidden doorway on the back wall of the throne room, behind the dais and the trees. The three of them went through the doorway to find themselves in what appeared to be an antechamber. There were two long tables on either side of the room, with four chairs pushed under each one on the side closest to the walls. There were two hearths in the corners of the room, where the arched wall of the throne room cut into it. Thick, plush rugs covered the floors and tapestries lined the walls. Several shelves were lined up against the walls behind the tables. Each one held dozens upon dozens of books and scrolls of all kinds. The urge to dig into all of that ancient literature was strong, and Henry had to fight against his own inquisitive nature in order to lead his companions through the richly appointed room and through a door on the far side.
They stepped out into another corridor. Or perhaps it was the same one into which they’d stepped when they’d entered the castle, seeing as it curved back and away from them. Before them was another set of tall, carved doors. These were just as grand as the ones they’d passed through not all that long ago. The front doors had been carved with flowers, trees, and forest animals. The set they stood before was carved with six different dragons. Some kind of stain or paint had been added to give each beast color. There was one with green scales, golden eyes made of precious stones gleaming from its face. Its wings were tucked against its back and a bundle of wheat was clutched in its talons. A dragon with scales of a greyish-silver stood next to the green dragon. There was nothing grasped in its talons, but its great maw hung open and whorls of what appeared to be clouds filled the air before it.
There was a dragon in black, its scales tipped with red and orange. Eyes of fiery red stared out at them. Its wings were lifted up over its back, great black things that looked as if they could deliver as much damage as the beast’s wickedly curved claws and its razor sharp fangs, which were exposed to view. The dragon’s mouth hung open and there was a hint of orange and yellow glowing at the back of its throat, as if it meant to blow flames at anyone who dared bring trouble to the castle. Beside the black was a dragon with blue scales. They were the color of sapphires, its eyes the blue of the night sky when the sun was setting, just before full dark fell. This dragon stood on all fours and stared out at anyone who dared to stand before the door. What looked like water droplets glistened on its scaled back.
There was a single dragon at the bottom of the doors, its scales rosy pink in color. They gleamed in the light and, if one stared for long, it appeared that the pink color moved like smoke over its scales. Its eyes were a darker pink, staring unblinkingly out at one and all who passed the doors. Or went through them. Its talons curled over an amorphous shape in a slightly lighter shade of pink. Squinting at it, Henry thought he saw the faint outline of arms and legs. Of lips, nose, and eyes. At the top of the door, standing above the rest of the dragons, was a white dragon. This one was bigger than the others, and the scales on it glimmered and gleamed a pristine white. Eyes as big and luminous at the moon stared from its face and there was, oddly, an intelligence in the beast’s gaze that should not have existed in a carving.
“The white dragon,” Henry murmured. Of course he’d heard the stories of the dragons. How they’d been friends to the Five Queens. There were reportedly dragons of all colors, but white was the rarest of them all. Legends stated that the white dragon was king of all dragon kind. Many brushed such stories aside as legend. Much as they did with the stories of the Five Queens and the Three Sisters. Fairy tales for children, they said. Henry had long believed that such fairy tales and myths had been taken from some minor, base story hidden in the annals of history. Time had simply added embellishment and fantastical elements to make them seem much greater and grander than they had been.
“I thought the dragons were all made up. Stories told by parents to entertain and educate their children,” Captain Summers said. The comment seemed to be mostly to himself, his voice low and barely audible in the silence. But Henry and Lord LeBeau heard it all the same. Their noble benefactor turned a look the good captain’s way.
“To keep children frightened and make them behave, you mean,” he commented. The words came out sounding almost absent, as if the man was unintentionally giving voice to his thoughts. Henry was certain it was a ruse and that Lord LeBeau was using the comment, and the answer it would bring forth, as a means with which to measure the mettle of the king’s man.
“Don’t all parents tell their children such stories?” Captain Summers asked. There was nothing to indicate he was displeased by Lord LeBeau’s response. And yet, Henry was certain that the faint accusation behind Lord LeBeau’s statement had upset Captain Summers in some manner.
Their benefactor simply stared at the good captain for some time. It was long enough that things between them seemed to grow a little tense. And then Lord LeBeau offered up a broad smile and inclined his head. “As you say,” he responded. It was a cryptic answer to Captain Summers’ question and Henry got the impression that it was not the response Lord LeBeau had originally intended to give. Henry saw, from the corner of his eye, Captain Summers open his mouth to make some kind of retort. Instinct told him that allowing that to happen would see the two of them spending a great deal of time snarking at one another and would further delay their mission. So he stepped forward and put himself between them.
“Let us continue on, gentlemen. If my ancient Rauhan is correct, the Three Sisters are waiting for us beyond these doors,” he told them, one hand motioning toward the great wooden panels and the dragons that seemed to guard them. Henry knew his ancient Rauhan was correct. He was the country’s foremost scholar on the ancient language. If he was being honest, he was the country’s foremost scholar on anything to do with Ancient Rauha and its legends. It was these scholarly tendencies that had brought him to the knowledge of the Five Queens and the Three Sisters.
He let his gaze shift from Lord LeBeau to Captain Summers, waiting to see which of them moved first. Each man eyed one another a moment before Lord LeBeau turned and faced the doors> After a moment of what appeared to be consideration, Lord LeBeau took a step forward and reached out a hand to take hold of the door handle. He had barely turned the latch when the air around them thrummed with a deep, echoing sound that shook the walls around them.
A moment later, the head of the pink dragon had lifted off of the wood and rose up to stare directly into Lord LeBeau’s face. It opened its mouth wide, exposing the long and wickedly curved fangs within, and spoke without ever moving its lips. “Who seeks to enter this sacred place?” the dragon asked. It had a voice that was deep and reverberated around the hall. There was intelligence in the pink gemstones of its eyes and there was a heavy weight in its voice, as if there was power enough in it to crush anyone the dragon deemed an enemy.
“Humble servants of the rightful rulers of this land,” Lord LeBeau responded. If he was startled by a carving suddenly coming to life, he showed none of it. Instead, he dipped his head respectfully before the dragon, offering it a show of respect. “My companions and I have come to wake the Three Sisters. Rauha is in great need of their power and their mercy. The Great Darkness encroaches upon the land once again.”
“The Sisters have already given their all to stop the Great Darkness,” the dragon responded. That deep, resonant voice echoed up and down the corridor beyond them. Henry felt as if it was trying to shake ghosts loose from the very walls. “Do they not deserve rest? This land has been content to forget about them and their sacrifices.”
“This land has been lied to by the men who have ruled it since they gave their all,” Lord LeBeau corrected softly. “Their names have been banished from our mouths. To speak of them is to risk being imprisoned. The Pretender and his ancestors have made it illegal to speak of them. Or of the magic that lives in our land and in our very souls. It is treason to recall the old ways.”
“And yet you come here,” the dragon said. Its head turned toward Captain Summers and eyed him with obvious mistrust. “And you bring one of the king’s own men with you. Perhaps you are the ones who commit treason by stepping foot on these hallowed shores. Should my kin and I simply turn you back the way you came and deny you the goal of your quest? Or should be end your lives here and make an example of you for any others who might be so foolish as to come here in search of the Sisters.”
“You and your kin may do as you please, for you are dragons and we are mere mortals,” Lord LeBeau responded, dipping his head once more to show his respect for the carved creature. “But before you pass sentence, perhaps you would like to read the depths of my soul. To discover whether not I come here on a lie.”
“You would offer us a chance to read the words written into your soul? Knowing that lies cannot dwell in the depths of your soul? Knowing that, should we find you guilty of treason, your death will be long and painful?” The dragon stared intently at Lord LeBeau and Henry was certain he saw hunger in those pink gems that served as eyes. That look made Henry acutely aware of how fragile their lives would be against the magic and power of a dragon. Even a carved one such as the one they now stared at because it was obvious that the magic here in this place was much more potent than anyone had ever realized.
“I would offer you the chance to read the words written into my soul because this would be the only way to prove to you that I come here on no lie. There is no malice in my heart for the Sisters. It is my sincere wish to ask the Three Sisters to protect their people. Before the Pretender can destroy the people, the land, and all of the magic that resides within it.”
That pink stare shifted so that it could land on Henry’s face, then on Captain Summers’. “And you would both allow me to read your soul?” it asked them.
“I would,” Captain Summers responded, no hesitation in his voice. The dragon’s gaze slid back to Henry and remained there, waiting for Henry to answer the question.
“I have nothing to hide,” Henry assured the carving. The dragon regarded them for several moments longer, then returned its pink gem stare to where Lord LeBeau stood. It said nothing, merely focused its gaze on the man’s face. And then the eyes started to glow an unearthly, vibrant shade of pink that cast its glow on the hallway around them.
Henry and Captain Summers stood in silence, watching the two as time slipped past them fluidly. It moved both fast and slow, seeming to rush toward the end of the dragon’s intense study while simultaneously dragging along as if it never intended to stop. Through it all, neither the dragon nor Lord LeBeau moved. Not even to blink. From where he stood, it didn’t look to Henry as if their benefactor was coming to harm. His body remained loose and at ease, arms hanging at his sides with his hands in their natural position.
And then it was over. All at once, the world seemed to take a breath around them. And sound gradually seeped back into existence. Henry hadn’t realized that it had faded out, but he supposed such a thing happened when a good deal of magic was in use. Or perhaps there was another reason entirely. Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, he gave his full attention back to Lord LeBeau and the dragon carving. The creature was still staring at the man, but there was a look in its eyes that suggested it had found what it had been looking for. The dragon finally dipped its head at Lord LeBeau, then turned toward Captain Summers.
Again, silence fell around them. It was unearthly and complete, leaving Henry alone with his thoughts again. This time, he noticed that there was a heaviness on the air and it pressed on his chest. Instinct told him that this was the magic being used by the dragon to read Captain Summers’ soul. It wasn’t an especially comfortable feeling, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, either. Henry found the sensation to be something akin to the tingles that came when one had slept on their arm or hand wrong, or when they’d sat with a foot tucked up under their leg for too long, and waking or moving brought lift flooding back to the limb.
Captain Summers stood steady and relaxed against the dragon’s intense regard. His hands were held in that same loose position that Lord LeBeau’s had been just moments ago. And he returned the creature’s stare with the same intensity. As if in defiance of the dragon’s magical perusal.
Curious.
There wasn’t time to think on it any longer, because the heaviness to the air faded and sound returned. And the dragon brought its stare around to land on Henry. And, much against his will, Henry knew a moment of fear. Not that the dragon would find his reasons for coming to be false. But because he was about to allow a creature believed to be myth use its magic upon him to look into his very soul. It was both exciting and frightening.
”Peace, Professor McCoy. I will bring no harm if your heart and soul are true. The creature’s voice echoed gently inside his head. It should have been a frightening experience. Henry found it to be almost soothing.
Henry had every faith that the dragon would find nothing but his earnest desire to return Rauha to its former glory, under rulers who would abuse neither their power nor their people.
”A noble sentiment. But do not all rulers abuse their power and their people?” The dragon questioned.
Henry considered the question seriously. He had seen such a thing come to pass with the present king. And books had told him such stories of rulers past. In none of those history books, however, had any mention been made of the Five Queens abusing their power and the people they’d sworn to protect when they’d ascended to their thrones. Every article and story he’d found had described them as kind and generous and caring. They’d clearly loved their people and had done everything in their power to keep Rauha’s populace safe in the face of such grave danger as had been presented by the Great Darkness.
”Yes. They did everything they could. And it nearly killed them, Professor. The Three Sisters nearly died trying to save their kingdom. And their reward has been scorn and criticism. They have been repaid for their sacrifices with hatred and distrust. Your king calls them criminals and declares that their deeds are why the kingdom exists in its current state.” The dragon’s tone was harsh on the last of its statement. That harshness was not directed at him, though. Instead, Henry felt a deep sense of curiosity emanating from within the dragon, as if it was trying to understand the oddities that Henry and his companions represented. “And yet, I sense that you truly believe that the Three Sisters, Rauha’s remaining Queens, can save the kingdom that has forgotten them. “
Henry wanted to protest that Rauha’s people hadn’t forgotten the Three Sisters. He wanted to explain that their present ruler had banned all books about the Three Sisters from being shelved in libraries and at book sellers. That the king had banned any discussion of the Five Queens and the Three Sisters. That it was illegal to speak of them and the magic they held and everything they’d done for their kingdom.
”I can see your heart, and your soul, is filled with the belief that the Three Sisters can make safe your country from the invading shadows that even now creep across its lands. I can see that you wish to do nothing more than to wake the Sisters and ask for their help. There is no darkness living in your soul. I sense, nor do I see, any lies living within your heart. I will allow you to complete your quest, Professor McCoy. Allow me, however, to caution you. The road you travel will be long and hard. And it will be filled with dangers that you have not yet noticed. Do not falter in your path and your reward will be beyond your wildest imaginings. Give in to despair or lose hope but once and all you fight for could come to naught. Always hold to hope, Professor McCoy.”
It felt to Henry as if he was breaking the surface of a lake. He gasped for breath as if he’d been underwater far too long. Captain Summers was there to take hold of his arm when he staggered on his feet. A pressure he hadn’t known was there lifted as the dragon sank back into the door and the magic it had used simply slipped away as if had never been. The hallway around them was empty and silent, save for the slowly quieting breaths Henry struggled for.
After several moments, Henry righted himself. Captain Summers stepped back and let his unreadable gaze slide from Henry to Lord LeBeau. Silence held between the three of them, no doubt because each of them was giving thought to their encounter with the dragon on the door. A dragon that had once more become an intricate carving created by some skilled artisan a lifetime or more ago. Henry allowed himself a moment to wonder if he’d just truly experienced such an event or if he had hallucinated the entire event.
There was a soft metallic sound in the stillness of the hallway a moment before one of the wooden panels inched forward. The door was open. After sharing a glance with his companions, Henry pulled himself together and started forward.
History was waiting.
~*~*~*~*~
What appeared to be a vast garden awaited them beyond the doors through which they’d just passed. Scott had his hand on the pommel of his sword, though he’d made no move to draw the weapon as yet. The encounter with the dragon in the door had been slightly surreal and he could still recall just how it felt to have the great beast digging around in his head and his heart. He’d never experienced anything of the like before and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it again. He was damn well getting tired of having to prove his worth or whatever it was the tests they’d been subjected to were for. It felt as if the trip through the castle had taken the better part of three days. Night was falling and he was tired. He was hungry, too. They hadn’t even had a meal since they’d set off from their campsite this morning.
He sincerely hoped that the path they were on would take them to the Three Sisters.
Lord LeBeau had produced, or perhaps procured, a lantern from somewhere. It was aglow with a flickering flame that cast a soft circle of golden light around them. It showed them where the path ran through the tall grass. And it also showed them the shape of shadows just beyond the light. Scott felt like those shadows were out buildings, though he couldn’t be certain without either more light or stepping off the trail to investigate them. He could smell the sweet scent flowers in the distance, and there was the sound of running water off to his left. A small brook, no doubt, tumbling over rocks that littered its path. There was the soft rustle of leaves around them as a gentle breeze blew through the tall trees that likely edged the area. Instinct told him that they traveled through some sort of garden and that, in the light of day, it would be brilliantly green and utterly amazing. That notion made him wish for the sun to rise, just so that he might take in every inch of this garden’s glory.
For he was sure it was glorious. He was also sure it was a private garden, meant solely for the enjoyment of the Queens who had once ruled here. He found it curious, though, that they were here in this garden instead of climbing the stairs of one of the towers. Wouldn’t it make more sense to settle the Three Sisters in their towers? A history lesson while they’d been traveling the woods had told him that each of the Queens had occupied one of fives towers. Each tower was a physical location or manifestation of the elements and the personal quarters of the Queen who wielded the corresponding element. Logic would dictate that they would be taken to their towers and laid upon their own beds. But Professor McCoy had made it clear that the Sisters would be found slumbering behind the castle somewhere.
No one spoke as they followed the path beneath their feet. It had been made with cobblestones, and each stone was smooth and easy to walk upon. Scott was reminded of the stones in Harmony. They had been laid out in amazing patterns by skilled artisans so long ago that no one was entirely certain how old they were. The stones used there were in different colors so that those patterns were easy to see. He wondered, for a moment, if the stones under their feet now were also colored. If they also created patterns and shapes with their placement. Or perhaps he was merely letting his imagination wander away from him after encountering so many fantastical things already.
The path took them deeper into the tall grass. The rustling leaves and tumbling water was joined by the distinctive call of owls and the gentle song of night birds. Crickets chirped to one another from within the grass. Other sounds filled the night air around them, the animals making them seemingly not bothered by the presence of humans moving among them. He found that curious. Squirrels and birds and rabbits ran and hid when people got too close to them. Whatever animals lived in this garden appeared to have no fear of humans. Maybe because there hadn’t been humans here in a very long time…
The three of them stepped out of the tall grass onto a small stone bridge that crossed over the babbling brook. The light of the lantern caught on the surface of the water, allowing him to spy fish swimming with the current. There wasn’t enough time to recognize those fish, but he saw them all the same.
On the other side of the bridge, the path forked off into three different directions. Professor McCoy brought out the much abused map and consulted it under the gentle glow of the lantern. Scott and Lord LeBeau remained silent as the scholar did so, waiting patiently for him to inform them which path they needed to follow next. After several moments of silence, Professor McCoy lifted his head and glanced at the paths branching out before them. “We must go to the right,” he said, one hand motioning in the designated direction.
After a moment, Lord LeBeau lifted the lantern higher. Golden light spilled down the pathway leading to the right. The cobblestone path wound its way into the grass for a few feet, then suddenly became a dirt trail. It didn’t look like there had ever been any cobblestones laid there and that the trail had been made by the passage of many feet. With a glance back at Scott and Professor McCoy, Lord LeBeau took a step forward. Then another. The soles of his boots echoed off the stones beneath them. Another step forward and Lord LeBeau was simply gone. The light of his lantern was gone, too.
“What in the world?!” Professor McCoy exclaimed. Scott drew his sword and, with a look toward the professor, stepped onto the path to the right. A moment later, he felt Professor McCoy fall into step behind him. The very second Scott’s foot stepped from the cobblestone path and onto the dirt path, an overwhelming sense of disorientation claimed him. He had to fight the urge to turn and go back the way he came. Instead, he moved forward a few more steps before coming to a halt. He then closed his eyes and took a breath, working on centering himself. With deep, calming breaths, he pushed back the disorientation. When it felt like the world was right side up again, he slowly opened his eyes.
And found himself in wonder at what he found.
He was still in the garden, as was Lord LeBeau. The man had moved on ahead, the lantern hanging almost limply from his hand. The light it offered was no longer necessary. For soft, warm light glowed from... somewhere. It seemed to be suspended above their heads, buried within the trees. The sky above them was dark, but not in the same way it was dark in the garden from which they had just come. There was no moon or stars shining out of that darkness. It was almost the kind of darkness one found in their bed chambers, when nearly all candles save one had been extinguished.
The grass here was well kept and close to the ground in this part of the garden, and the trees were taller than the eye could track. They were bigger around than any Scott had ever seen in his life. Flowers bloomed riotously around the area, their blossoms huge and colored so very vividly. The area smelled of greenery and loamy earth. He could no longer hear the crickets and the birds. Nor could he hear the brook. It was such a change from just moments ago that he felt it was safe to assume that they were no longer in that garden. He felt it was highly likely that they were somewhere else entirely.
“Oh, my stars,” Professor McCoy whispered from behind him. Scott thought that to be a fitting reaction. Somehow, they were no longer in the garden behind the Castle of the Moon. But they were. Because a quick glance to the right showed him the glowing white wall of the castle in the distance. So if they were in the garden behind the castle, but not… Where were they?
“Gentlemen.” Lord LeBeau’s voice came from up ahead. It sounded as if he was somewhere in the trees. And it sounded as if he was perhaps a little excited. “Gentlemen. Over here.”
Scott shared a look with Professor McCoy before starting forward. They were once again on the cobblestone path, though his boots did not echo off the stones as they should have. Putting that concern aside, he kept moving toward the line of trees ahead of him. There was a spot within them that glowed, suggesting that was where Lord LeBeau had disappeared to. Scott made that glow his destination, his sword still naked in his hand. He approached the site of the glow, taking note of the way the trees towering over him had lowered their branches to make a wall or screen. He was both curious and frightened by what he would find behind the interwoven boughs.
It took no effort to step through the greenery that hid Lord LeBeau from his view. It was almost like walking through the gap in a set of curtains. His feet came to a stop after he made it past the branches, allowing him to take in his surroundings.
He was in a room. A room crafted from trees and their boughs. The first set of branches were several feet over his head, as thick around as three men’s legs together. There were no smaller branches growing out of it near its base. Those branches didn’t start until the branch was half a dozen feet long. Only then did smaller branches grow out of it. Every single one of those branches grew straight down to create the walls of the room. Every single branch above that first one, every single smaller branch and every leaf created the roof that towered over their heads.
Soft lights were indeed glowing from within the branches, though he couldn’t seem to find any of them. They were just there. Casting illumination upon the carpeting of grass beneath his feet. Rocks had been placed here and there, as if meant to be chairs or tables. Each one bore a flat top. Several of them had cushions set upon them, obviously meant to cushion one’s backside from the hard surface of the stone. Each table had a vase upon it. And each of those vases held a variety of wildflowers. There was no scent coming from them, suggesting to Scott that perhaps they had long ago been dried in order to remain standing well after a normal flower would have wilted and died. Not that anything about this felt as if it might be anywhere close to normal.
The idea of normal drifted even further away when Scott brought his attention to what had to have once been a clearing. More of those thick boughs covered the clearing and, as with the others, they were well above his head. Hanging from three of those boughs were long panels of sheer material. They drifted lazily to the grassy floor, their ends pooled against the grass almost absently. Those panels of sheer material enclosed thick platforms. Silken linens seemed to be laid upon the platforms.
Lord LeBeau stood next to one of the platforms, one hand curled around a sheer panel of crimson in order to hold it back. The linens upon the platform were black as night. Professor McCoy had moved past Scott to stand next to another of the platforms. This one was covered with gold linens, while the sheer panels were a rich forest green. And the third platform bore sapphire blue linens while the sheer panels were of a paler blue. He was reminded of the sky on a sunny, cloudless day.
He found himself moving forward, his gaze shifting from the blue panels to the green ones again. With the distance between himself and the platform shrinking, he could see that there were pillows on it. And a figure rested upon the platform, a woman who slumbered peacefully upon wheat golden sheets of silk. He could see that her skin was bronzed and her hair dark as it pooled on the pillow beside her. Someone had plaited it and Scott could see that the tail of it had slipped over the side of the bed. Her fingers had been woven together, her hands resting against her abdomen.
The woman laid upon the bed beside which Lord LeBeau stood was pale as moonlight, her hair the black of the night sky. Black silken sheets covered her. As with the first woman, her hands rested upon her abdomen and her hair had been plaited into a long, neat tail. It lay along the bed next to her body. Lord LeBeau was staring at her intently, a light in his eyes that told Scott there was more to his reasons for funding and going on this expedition than his dislike of the man who sat the throne.
Some song called to him, kept him moving forward. He could barely hear the tune as it raced through his veins. It drew him ever nearer to the third bed. There was some force driving his steps. He told his feet to stop, but they refused to obey his commands. So it was that he found himself beside the third and last bed. The woman upon it was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life. Skin of porcelain had been paired with hair the color of fire. As with the other two women, her hands were folded neatly over her abdomen and her hair was caught up in a neat braid.
His heart sped up in his chest as something warm and honeyed poured through him. Emotion the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a very long time rushed into his heart. Made hope and wonder and maybe more blossom in his chest like the roses that had once filled his mother’s garden. Compulsion flooded him, saw his hand lifting toward the sheer crimson panel that separated him from her. He told himself to stop. He told himself that he had no business doing whatever it was he planned to do. He told himself that he had a mission to fulfill. None of it mattered. His hand continued with what it was doing.
The sheer panel was so soft. He didn’t know what material it had been made of, but it was the softest thing he’d ever touched in his life. He found himself slipping between the panels until he stood directly next to the bed. This close, he could see the dark fan of her eyelashes against her upper cheek. They were a shade or two darker than the hair upon her head. Her lips were a pale pink and slightly parted, almost as if they begged to be kissed. Which was insanity. He didn’t know her. And he didn’t kiss women he didn’t know.
But the urge was there. It clawed at his brain, so strong that he almost believed it wasn’t truly his desire trying to convince him to kiss her. The longer he held himself back, the stronger the urge got. Until one of his hands was just suddenly stroking the silken curve of her cheek.
The moment he did so, there was a sound like a soft sigh. Scott glanced up to find that his companions were staring around with wide eyes. Apparently they’d heard it, too. As Scott stared at the two men who had come all this way with him, he smelled fire and ash and burnt wood. It was a smell he was very familiar with. He’d smelled it many times from a camp fire while on the battle field. From charred grass and burnt trees. Just as he’d smelled it many times from the hearth located in his own bed chambers. But a glance around the room hidden under the trees showed no flickering flames. No fire burned nearby.
He might have asked either or both of his companions if they’d smelled the fire, too. But roses suddenly blossomed right before his eyes. They hovered in the air at eye level, as if to make certain they were seen. They were huge blossoms in shades of red and pink and white and yellow. They looked so real that he almost reached out for them. There was no scent to them, though. And as soon as that thought crossed his mind, the blossoms were gone. They were replaced by the roar of the waves as they rolled in toward the beach. It was a sound he was familiar with. He’d been to the seaside more than once and that was the exact sound the ocean made when its waters raced toward land before drawing back into itself.
The lights that glowed within the trees grew brighter, flooding the clearing surrounding them with light as bright as that of the midday sun. And then the sound of silk moving against itself caught his attention. He turned back toward the bed he stood beside and found himself staring into eyes the deep green of the finest emeralds.
“Goddess above,” Professor McCoy exclaimed on a soft breath. Scott echoed the statement in his head.
Goddess above. Catch me before I fall.
Chapter Five: Myth and Legend
Fandom: the Marvel universe with a heavy dose of fantasy
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs to
dazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar . Author's Notes: i hate my brain. i really do. because it doesn't want to focus on anything i should be working on. instead, it throws all kinds of new ideas at me. this is one of them. it is a magic heavy AU and i hope that my writing can live up to the shit that's in my head because... it is vast and beautiful and amazing
Through the Mists of Time - The Index
There was a hidden doorway on the back wall of the throne room, behind the dais and the trees. The three of them went through the doorway to find themselves in what appeared to be an antechamber. There were two long tables on either side of the room, with four chairs pushed under each one on the side closest to the walls. There were two hearths in the corners of the room, where the arched wall of the throne room cut into it. Thick, plush rugs covered the floors and tapestries lined the walls. Several shelves were lined up against the walls behind the tables. Each one held dozens upon dozens of books and scrolls of all kinds. The urge to dig into all of that ancient literature was strong, and Henry had to fight against his own inquisitive nature in order to lead his companions through the richly appointed room and through a door on the far side.
They stepped out into another corridor. Or perhaps it was the same one into which they’d stepped when they’d entered the castle, seeing as it curved back and away from them. Before them was another set of tall, carved doors. These were just as grand as the ones they’d passed through not all that long ago. The front doors had been carved with flowers, trees, and forest animals. The set they stood before was carved with six different dragons. Some kind of stain or paint had been added to give each beast color. There was one with green scales, golden eyes made of precious stones gleaming from its face. Its wings were tucked against its back and a bundle of wheat was clutched in its talons. A dragon with scales of a greyish-silver stood next to the green dragon. There was nothing grasped in its talons, but its great maw hung open and whorls of what appeared to be clouds filled the air before it.
There was a dragon in black, its scales tipped with red and orange. Eyes of fiery red stared out at them. Its wings were lifted up over its back, great black things that looked as if they could deliver as much damage as the beast’s wickedly curved claws and its razor sharp fangs, which were exposed to view. The dragon’s mouth hung open and there was a hint of orange and yellow glowing at the back of its throat, as if it meant to blow flames at anyone who dared bring trouble to the castle. Beside the black was a dragon with blue scales. They were the color of sapphires, its eyes the blue of the night sky when the sun was setting, just before full dark fell. This dragon stood on all fours and stared out at anyone who dared to stand before the door. What looked like water droplets glistened on its scaled back.
There was a single dragon at the bottom of the doors, its scales rosy pink in color. They gleamed in the light and, if one stared for long, it appeared that the pink color moved like smoke over its scales. Its eyes were a darker pink, staring unblinkingly out at one and all who passed the doors. Or went through them. Its talons curled over an amorphous shape in a slightly lighter shade of pink. Squinting at it, Henry thought he saw the faint outline of arms and legs. Of lips, nose, and eyes. At the top of the door, standing above the rest of the dragons, was a white dragon. This one was bigger than the others, and the scales on it glimmered and gleamed a pristine white. Eyes as big and luminous at the moon stared from its face and there was, oddly, an intelligence in the beast’s gaze that should not have existed in a carving.
“The white dragon,” Henry murmured. Of course he’d heard the stories of the dragons. How they’d been friends to the Five Queens. There were reportedly dragons of all colors, but white was the rarest of them all. Legends stated that the white dragon was king of all dragon kind. Many brushed such stories aside as legend. Much as they did with the stories of the Five Queens and the Three Sisters. Fairy tales for children, they said. Henry had long believed that such fairy tales and myths had been taken from some minor, base story hidden in the annals of history. Time had simply added embellishment and fantastical elements to make them seem much greater and grander than they had been.
“I thought the dragons were all made up. Stories told by parents to entertain and educate their children,” Captain Summers said. The comment seemed to be mostly to himself, his voice low and barely audible in the silence. But Henry and Lord LeBeau heard it all the same. Their noble benefactor turned a look the good captain’s way.
“To keep children frightened and make them behave, you mean,” he commented. The words came out sounding almost absent, as if the man was unintentionally giving voice to his thoughts. Henry was certain it was a ruse and that Lord LeBeau was using the comment, and the answer it would bring forth, as a means with which to measure the mettle of the king’s man.
“Don’t all parents tell their children such stories?” Captain Summers asked. There was nothing to indicate he was displeased by Lord LeBeau’s response. And yet, Henry was certain that the faint accusation behind Lord LeBeau’s statement had upset Captain Summers in some manner.
Their benefactor simply stared at the good captain for some time. It was long enough that things between them seemed to grow a little tense. And then Lord LeBeau offered up a broad smile and inclined his head. “As you say,” he responded. It was a cryptic answer to Captain Summers’ question and Henry got the impression that it was not the response Lord LeBeau had originally intended to give. Henry saw, from the corner of his eye, Captain Summers open his mouth to make some kind of retort. Instinct told him that allowing that to happen would see the two of them spending a great deal of time snarking at one another and would further delay their mission. So he stepped forward and put himself between them.
“Let us continue on, gentlemen. If my ancient Rauhan is correct, the Three Sisters are waiting for us beyond these doors,” he told them, one hand motioning toward the great wooden panels and the dragons that seemed to guard them. Henry knew his ancient Rauhan was correct. He was the country’s foremost scholar on the ancient language. If he was being honest, he was the country’s foremost scholar on anything to do with Ancient Rauha and its legends. It was these scholarly tendencies that had brought him to the knowledge of the Five Queens and the Three Sisters.
He let his gaze shift from Lord LeBeau to Captain Summers, waiting to see which of them moved first. Each man eyed one another a moment before Lord LeBeau turned and faced the doors> After a moment of what appeared to be consideration, Lord LeBeau took a step forward and reached out a hand to take hold of the door handle. He had barely turned the latch when the air around them thrummed with a deep, echoing sound that shook the walls around them.
A moment later, the head of the pink dragon had lifted off of the wood and rose up to stare directly into Lord LeBeau’s face. It opened its mouth wide, exposing the long and wickedly curved fangs within, and spoke without ever moving its lips. “Who seeks to enter this sacred place?” the dragon asked. It had a voice that was deep and reverberated around the hall. There was intelligence in the pink gemstones of its eyes and there was a heavy weight in its voice, as if there was power enough in it to crush anyone the dragon deemed an enemy.
“Humble servants of the rightful rulers of this land,” Lord LeBeau responded. If he was startled by a carving suddenly coming to life, he showed none of it. Instead, he dipped his head respectfully before the dragon, offering it a show of respect. “My companions and I have come to wake the Three Sisters. Rauha is in great need of their power and their mercy. The Great Darkness encroaches upon the land once again.”
“The Sisters have already given their all to stop the Great Darkness,” the dragon responded. That deep, resonant voice echoed up and down the corridor beyond them. Henry felt as if it was trying to shake ghosts loose from the very walls. “Do they not deserve rest? This land has been content to forget about them and their sacrifices.”
“This land has been lied to by the men who have ruled it since they gave their all,” Lord LeBeau corrected softly. “Their names have been banished from our mouths. To speak of them is to risk being imprisoned. The Pretender and his ancestors have made it illegal to speak of them. Or of the magic that lives in our land and in our very souls. It is treason to recall the old ways.”
“And yet you come here,” the dragon said. Its head turned toward Captain Summers and eyed him with obvious mistrust. “And you bring one of the king’s own men with you. Perhaps you are the ones who commit treason by stepping foot on these hallowed shores. Should my kin and I simply turn you back the way you came and deny you the goal of your quest? Or should be end your lives here and make an example of you for any others who might be so foolish as to come here in search of the Sisters.”
“You and your kin may do as you please, for you are dragons and we are mere mortals,” Lord LeBeau responded, dipping his head once more to show his respect for the carved creature. “But before you pass sentence, perhaps you would like to read the depths of my soul. To discover whether not I come here on a lie.”
“You would offer us a chance to read the words written into your soul? Knowing that lies cannot dwell in the depths of your soul? Knowing that, should we find you guilty of treason, your death will be long and painful?” The dragon stared intently at Lord LeBeau and Henry was certain he saw hunger in those pink gems that served as eyes. That look made Henry acutely aware of how fragile their lives would be against the magic and power of a dragon. Even a carved one such as the one they now stared at because it was obvious that the magic here in this place was much more potent than anyone had ever realized.
“I would offer you the chance to read the words written into my soul because this would be the only way to prove to you that I come here on no lie. There is no malice in my heart for the Sisters. It is my sincere wish to ask the Three Sisters to protect their people. Before the Pretender can destroy the people, the land, and all of the magic that resides within it.”
That pink stare shifted so that it could land on Henry’s face, then on Captain Summers’. “And you would both allow me to read your soul?” it asked them.
“I would,” Captain Summers responded, no hesitation in his voice. The dragon’s gaze slid back to Henry and remained there, waiting for Henry to answer the question.
“I have nothing to hide,” Henry assured the carving. The dragon regarded them for several moments longer, then returned its pink gem stare to where Lord LeBeau stood. It said nothing, merely focused its gaze on the man’s face. And then the eyes started to glow an unearthly, vibrant shade of pink that cast its glow on the hallway around them.
Henry and Captain Summers stood in silence, watching the two as time slipped past them fluidly. It moved both fast and slow, seeming to rush toward the end of the dragon’s intense study while simultaneously dragging along as if it never intended to stop. Through it all, neither the dragon nor Lord LeBeau moved. Not even to blink. From where he stood, it didn’t look to Henry as if their benefactor was coming to harm. His body remained loose and at ease, arms hanging at his sides with his hands in their natural position.
And then it was over. All at once, the world seemed to take a breath around them. And sound gradually seeped back into existence. Henry hadn’t realized that it had faded out, but he supposed such a thing happened when a good deal of magic was in use. Or perhaps there was another reason entirely. Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, he gave his full attention back to Lord LeBeau and the dragon carving. The creature was still staring at the man, but there was a look in its eyes that suggested it had found what it had been looking for. The dragon finally dipped its head at Lord LeBeau, then turned toward Captain Summers.
Again, silence fell around them. It was unearthly and complete, leaving Henry alone with his thoughts again. This time, he noticed that there was a heaviness on the air and it pressed on his chest. Instinct told him that this was the magic being used by the dragon to read Captain Summers’ soul. It wasn’t an especially comfortable feeling, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, either. Henry found the sensation to be something akin to the tingles that came when one had slept on their arm or hand wrong, or when they’d sat with a foot tucked up under their leg for too long, and waking or moving brought lift flooding back to the limb.
Captain Summers stood steady and relaxed against the dragon’s intense regard. His hands were held in that same loose position that Lord LeBeau’s had been just moments ago. And he returned the creature’s stare with the same intensity. As if in defiance of the dragon’s magical perusal.
Curious.
There wasn’t time to think on it any longer, because the heaviness to the air faded and sound returned. And the dragon brought its stare around to land on Henry. And, much against his will, Henry knew a moment of fear. Not that the dragon would find his reasons for coming to be false. But because he was about to allow a creature believed to be myth use its magic upon him to look into his very soul. It was both exciting and frightening.
”Peace, Professor McCoy. I will bring no harm if your heart and soul are true. The creature’s voice echoed gently inside his head. It should have been a frightening experience. Henry found it to be almost soothing.
Henry had every faith that the dragon would find nothing but his earnest desire to return Rauha to its former glory, under rulers who would abuse neither their power nor their people.
”A noble sentiment. But do not all rulers abuse their power and their people?” The dragon questioned.
Henry considered the question seriously. He had seen such a thing come to pass with the present king. And books had told him such stories of rulers past. In none of those history books, however, had any mention been made of the Five Queens abusing their power and the people they’d sworn to protect when they’d ascended to their thrones. Every article and story he’d found had described them as kind and generous and caring. They’d clearly loved their people and had done everything in their power to keep Rauha’s populace safe in the face of such grave danger as had been presented by the Great Darkness.
”Yes. They did everything they could. And it nearly killed them, Professor. The Three Sisters nearly died trying to save their kingdom. And their reward has been scorn and criticism. They have been repaid for their sacrifices with hatred and distrust. Your king calls them criminals and declares that their deeds are why the kingdom exists in its current state.” The dragon’s tone was harsh on the last of its statement. That harshness was not directed at him, though. Instead, Henry felt a deep sense of curiosity emanating from within the dragon, as if it was trying to understand the oddities that Henry and his companions represented. “And yet, I sense that you truly believe that the Three Sisters, Rauha’s remaining Queens, can save the kingdom that has forgotten them. “
Henry wanted to protest that Rauha’s people hadn’t forgotten the Three Sisters. He wanted to explain that their present ruler had banned all books about the Three Sisters from being shelved in libraries and at book sellers. That the king had banned any discussion of the Five Queens and the Three Sisters. That it was illegal to speak of them and the magic they held and everything they’d done for their kingdom.
”I can see your heart, and your soul, is filled with the belief that the Three Sisters can make safe your country from the invading shadows that even now creep across its lands. I can see that you wish to do nothing more than to wake the Sisters and ask for their help. There is no darkness living in your soul. I sense, nor do I see, any lies living within your heart. I will allow you to complete your quest, Professor McCoy. Allow me, however, to caution you. The road you travel will be long and hard. And it will be filled with dangers that you have not yet noticed. Do not falter in your path and your reward will be beyond your wildest imaginings. Give in to despair or lose hope but once and all you fight for could come to naught. Always hold to hope, Professor McCoy.”
It felt to Henry as if he was breaking the surface of a lake. He gasped for breath as if he’d been underwater far too long. Captain Summers was there to take hold of his arm when he staggered on his feet. A pressure he hadn’t known was there lifted as the dragon sank back into the door and the magic it had used simply slipped away as if had never been. The hallway around them was empty and silent, save for the slowly quieting breaths Henry struggled for.
After several moments, Henry righted himself. Captain Summers stepped back and let his unreadable gaze slide from Henry to Lord LeBeau. Silence held between the three of them, no doubt because each of them was giving thought to their encounter with the dragon on the door. A dragon that had once more become an intricate carving created by some skilled artisan a lifetime or more ago. Henry allowed himself a moment to wonder if he’d just truly experienced such an event or if he had hallucinated the entire event.
There was a soft metallic sound in the stillness of the hallway a moment before one of the wooden panels inched forward. The door was open. After sharing a glance with his companions, Henry pulled himself together and started forward.
History was waiting.
~*~*~*~*~
What appeared to be a vast garden awaited them beyond the doors through which they’d just passed. Scott had his hand on the pommel of his sword, though he’d made no move to draw the weapon as yet. The encounter with the dragon in the door had been slightly surreal and he could still recall just how it felt to have the great beast digging around in his head and his heart. He’d never experienced anything of the like before and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it again. He was damn well getting tired of having to prove his worth or whatever it was the tests they’d been subjected to were for. It felt as if the trip through the castle had taken the better part of three days. Night was falling and he was tired. He was hungry, too. They hadn’t even had a meal since they’d set off from their campsite this morning.
He sincerely hoped that the path they were on would take them to the Three Sisters.
Lord LeBeau had produced, or perhaps procured, a lantern from somewhere. It was aglow with a flickering flame that cast a soft circle of golden light around them. It showed them where the path ran through the tall grass. And it also showed them the shape of shadows just beyond the light. Scott felt like those shadows were out buildings, though he couldn’t be certain without either more light or stepping off the trail to investigate them. He could smell the sweet scent flowers in the distance, and there was the sound of running water off to his left. A small brook, no doubt, tumbling over rocks that littered its path. There was the soft rustle of leaves around them as a gentle breeze blew through the tall trees that likely edged the area. Instinct told him that they traveled through some sort of garden and that, in the light of day, it would be brilliantly green and utterly amazing. That notion made him wish for the sun to rise, just so that he might take in every inch of this garden’s glory.
For he was sure it was glorious. He was also sure it was a private garden, meant solely for the enjoyment of the Queens who had once ruled here. He found it curious, though, that they were here in this garden instead of climbing the stairs of one of the towers. Wouldn’t it make more sense to settle the Three Sisters in their towers? A history lesson while they’d been traveling the woods had told him that each of the Queens had occupied one of fives towers. Each tower was a physical location or manifestation of the elements and the personal quarters of the Queen who wielded the corresponding element. Logic would dictate that they would be taken to their towers and laid upon their own beds. But Professor McCoy had made it clear that the Sisters would be found slumbering behind the castle somewhere.
No one spoke as they followed the path beneath their feet. It had been made with cobblestones, and each stone was smooth and easy to walk upon. Scott was reminded of the stones in Harmony. They had been laid out in amazing patterns by skilled artisans so long ago that no one was entirely certain how old they were. The stones used there were in different colors so that those patterns were easy to see. He wondered, for a moment, if the stones under their feet now were also colored. If they also created patterns and shapes with their placement. Or perhaps he was merely letting his imagination wander away from him after encountering so many fantastical things already.
The path took them deeper into the tall grass. The rustling leaves and tumbling water was joined by the distinctive call of owls and the gentle song of night birds. Crickets chirped to one another from within the grass. Other sounds filled the night air around them, the animals making them seemingly not bothered by the presence of humans moving among them. He found that curious. Squirrels and birds and rabbits ran and hid when people got too close to them. Whatever animals lived in this garden appeared to have no fear of humans. Maybe because there hadn’t been humans here in a very long time…
The three of them stepped out of the tall grass onto a small stone bridge that crossed over the babbling brook. The light of the lantern caught on the surface of the water, allowing him to spy fish swimming with the current. There wasn’t enough time to recognize those fish, but he saw them all the same.
On the other side of the bridge, the path forked off into three different directions. Professor McCoy brought out the much abused map and consulted it under the gentle glow of the lantern. Scott and Lord LeBeau remained silent as the scholar did so, waiting patiently for him to inform them which path they needed to follow next. After several moments of silence, Professor McCoy lifted his head and glanced at the paths branching out before them. “We must go to the right,” he said, one hand motioning in the designated direction.
After a moment, Lord LeBeau lifted the lantern higher. Golden light spilled down the pathway leading to the right. The cobblestone path wound its way into the grass for a few feet, then suddenly became a dirt trail. It didn’t look like there had ever been any cobblestones laid there and that the trail had been made by the passage of many feet. With a glance back at Scott and Professor McCoy, Lord LeBeau took a step forward. Then another. The soles of his boots echoed off the stones beneath them. Another step forward and Lord LeBeau was simply gone. The light of his lantern was gone, too.
“What in the world?!” Professor McCoy exclaimed. Scott drew his sword and, with a look toward the professor, stepped onto the path to the right. A moment later, he felt Professor McCoy fall into step behind him. The very second Scott’s foot stepped from the cobblestone path and onto the dirt path, an overwhelming sense of disorientation claimed him. He had to fight the urge to turn and go back the way he came. Instead, he moved forward a few more steps before coming to a halt. He then closed his eyes and took a breath, working on centering himself. With deep, calming breaths, he pushed back the disorientation. When it felt like the world was right side up again, he slowly opened his eyes.
And found himself in wonder at what he found.
He was still in the garden, as was Lord LeBeau. The man had moved on ahead, the lantern hanging almost limply from his hand. The light it offered was no longer necessary. For soft, warm light glowed from... somewhere. It seemed to be suspended above their heads, buried within the trees. The sky above them was dark, but not in the same way it was dark in the garden from which they had just come. There was no moon or stars shining out of that darkness. It was almost the kind of darkness one found in their bed chambers, when nearly all candles save one had been extinguished.
The grass here was well kept and close to the ground in this part of the garden, and the trees were taller than the eye could track. They were bigger around than any Scott had ever seen in his life. Flowers bloomed riotously around the area, their blossoms huge and colored so very vividly. The area smelled of greenery and loamy earth. He could no longer hear the crickets and the birds. Nor could he hear the brook. It was such a change from just moments ago that he felt it was safe to assume that they were no longer in that garden. He felt it was highly likely that they were somewhere else entirely.
“Oh, my stars,” Professor McCoy whispered from behind him. Scott thought that to be a fitting reaction. Somehow, they were no longer in the garden behind the Castle of the Moon. But they were. Because a quick glance to the right showed him the glowing white wall of the castle in the distance. So if they were in the garden behind the castle, but not… Where were they?
“Gentlemen.” Lord LeBeau’s voice came from up ahead. It sounded as if he was somewhere in the trees. And it sounded as if he was perhaps a little excited. “Gentlemen. Over here.”
Scott shared a look with Professor McCoy before starting forward. They were once again on the cobblestone path, though his boots did not echo off the stones as they should have. Putting that concern aside, he kept moving toward the line of trees ahead of him. There was a spot within them that glowed, suggesting that was where Lord LeBeau had disappeared to. Scott made that glow his destination, his sword still naked in his hand. He approached the site of the glow, taking note of the way the trees towering over him had lowered their branches to make a wall or screen. He was both curious and frightened by what he would find behind the interwoven boughs.
It took no effort to step through the greenery that hid Lord LeBeau from his view. It was almost like walking through the gap in a set of curtains. His feet came to a stop after he made it past the branches, allowing him to take in his surroundings.
He was in a room. A room crafted from trees and their boughs. The first set of branches were several feet over his head, as thick around as three men’s legs together. There were no smaller branches growing out of it near its base. Those branches didn’t start until the branch was half a dozen feet long. Only then did smaller branches grow out of it. Every single one of those branches grew straight down to create the walls of the room. Every single branch above that first one, every single smaller branch and every leaf created the roof that towered over their heads.
Soft lights were indeed glowing from within the branches, though he couldn’t seem to find any of them. They were just there. Casting illumination upon the carpeting of grass beneath his feet. Rocks had been placed here and there, as if meant to be chairs or tables. Each one bore a flat top. Several of them had cushions set upon them, obviously meant to cushion one’s backside from the hard surface of the stone. Each table had a vase upon it. And each of those vases held a variety of wildflowers. There was no scent coming from them, suggesting to Scott that perhaps they had long ago been dried in order to remain standing well after a normal flower would have wilted and died. Not that anything about this felt as if it might be anywhere close to normal.
The idea of normal drifted even further away when Scott brought his attention to what had to have once been a clearing. More of those thick boughs covered the clearing and, as with the others, they were well above his head. Hanging from three of those boughs were long panels of sheer material. They drifted lazily to the grassy floor, their ends pooled against the grass almost absently. Those panels of sheer material enclosed thick platforms. Silken linens seemed to be laid upon the platforms.
Lord LeBeau stood next to one of the platforms, one hand curled around a sheer panel of crimson in order to hold it back. The linens upon the platform were black as night. Professor McCoy had moved past Scott to stand next to another of the platforms. This one was covered with gold linens, while the sheer panels were a rich forest green. And the third platform bore sapphire blue linens while the sheer panels were of a paler blue. He was reminded of the sky on a sunny, cloudless day.
He found himself moving forward, his gaze shifting from the blue panels to the green ones again. With the distance between himself and the platform shrinking, he could see that there were pillows on it. And a figure rested upon the platform, a woman who slumbered peacefully upon wheat golden sheets of silk. He could see that her skin was bronzed and her hair dark as it pooled on the pillow beside her. Someone had plaited it and Scott could see that the tail of it had slipped over the side of the bed. Her fingers had been woven together, her hands resting against her abdomen.
The woman laid upon the bed beside which Lord LeBeau stood was pale as moonlight, her hair the black of the night sky. Black silken sheets covered her. As with the first woman, her hands rested upon her abdomen and her hair had been plaited into a long, neat tail. It lay along the bed next to her body. Lord LeBeau was staring at her intently, a light in his eyes that told Scott there was more to his reasons for funding and going on this expedition than his dislike of the man who sat the throne.
Some song called to him, kept him moving forward. He could barely hear the tune as it raced through his veins. It drew him ever nearer to the third bed. There was some force driving his steps. He told his feet to stop, but they refused to obey his commands. So it was that he found himself beside the third and last bed. The woman upon it was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life. Skin of porcelain had been paired with hair the color of fire. As with the other two women, her hands were folded neatly over her abdomen and her hair was caught up in a neat braid.
His heart sped up in his chest as something warm and honeyed poured through him. Emotion the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a very long time rushed into his heart. Made hope and wonder and maybe more blossom in his chest like the roses that had once filled his mother’s garden. Compulsion flooded him, saw his hand lifting toward the sheer crimson panel that separated him from her. He told himself to stop. He told himself that he had no business doing whatever it was he planned to do. He told himself that he had a mission to fulfill. None of it mattered. His hand continued with what it was doing.
The sheer panel was so soft. He didn’t know what material it had been made of, but it was the softest thing he’d ever touched in his life. He found himself slipping between the panels until he stood directly next to the bed. This close, he could see the dark fan of her eyelashes against her upper cheek. They were a shade or two darker than the hair upon her head. Her lips were a pale pink and slightly parted, almost as if they begged to be kissed. Which was insanity. He didn’t know her. And he didn’t kiss women he didn’t know.
But the urge was there. It clawed at his brain, so strong that he almost believed it wasn’t truly his desire trying to convince him to kiss her. The longer he held himself back, the stronger the urge got. Until one of his hands was just suddenly stroking the silken curve of her cheek.
The moment he did so, there was a sound like a soft sigh. Scott glanced up to find that his companions were staring around with wide eyes. Apparently they’d heard it, too. As Scott stared at the two men who had come all this way with him, he smelled fire and ash and burnt wood. It was a smell he was very familiar with. He’d smelled it many times from a camp fire while on the battle field. From charred grass and burnt trees. Just as he’d smelled it many times from the hearth located in his own bed chambers. But a glance around the room hidden under the trees showed no flickering flames. No fire burned nearby.
He might have asked either or both of his companions if they’d smelled the fire, too. But roses suddenly blossomed right before his eyes. They hovered in the air at eye level, as if to make certain they were seen. They were huge blossoms in shades of red and pink and white and yellow. They looked so real that he almost reached out for them. There was no scent to them, though. And as soon as that thought crossed his mind, the blossoms were gone. They were replaced by the roar of the waves as they rolled in toward the beach. It was a sound he was familiar with. He’d been to the seaside more than once and that was the exact sound the ocean made when its waters raced toward land before drawing back into itself.
The lights that glowed within the trees grew brighter, flooding the clearing surrounding them with light as bright as that of the midday sun. And then the sound of silk moving against itself caught his attention. He turned back toward the bed he stood beside and found himself staring into eyes the deep green of the finest emeralds.
“Goddess above,” Professor McCoy exclaimed on a soft breath. Scott echoed the statement in his head.
Goddess above. Catch me before I fall.
(no subject)
Date: 2026-08-11 11:43 pm (UTC)Six dragons? So one for each of the 5 elements/sisters plus the white dragon. *nods* That's what I figured. But Captain Sumnmers acting like he hasn't ever seen a dragon? Odd. Wasn't he the one the white dragon appeared to? Or was that just an assumption on my part? (goes back and re-reads...guardian...sword...no name...hmmm, I might've been wrong in that assumption.) And what is this sudden tension between Scott and Remy about?
Well, I wasn't expecting the pink dragon to animate and talk to them. Why am I getting Galadriel vibes?
Indeed.
I am really beginning to think that I was wrong about Captain Summers being the mysterious "Guardian". Damn. Now I'll have to come up with a new suspect.
There is odd magics afoot here. That step into elsewhere, despite still being in sight of the Moon castle? Definitely some sort of magic. Felt akin to stepping into Faerie. And why oh why does it make me so happy that Rosemary's braid is dangling off the side of the platform she's on? Silly little detail to get all giddy over, yet here I am. Giddy. smh
*sing-song voice*: Scott wants to kiss Haley. For real though, I seriously thought he was going to. Must be that whole "true love's kiss" trope from every fairytale ever.
Too late. I'm pretty sure he already fell. I'm pretty sure all three of them have.
Also, how dare you leave off there! How can you do this to me? *dramatic sigh* Seriously, though, well done! Brava and all that. I enjoyed it muchly, hon, and I shall patiently await whatever comes next (even if it kills me - lol). *smooches*
(no subject)
Date: 2026-08-13 12:15 am (UTC)yes. six dragons. one to represent each element. and the white dragon, who more or less rules over all the others. in case you missed it, the pink dragon is meant to represent spirit. which is why it was reading their hearts and souls.
everything will be made clear before the story is out. have no fear.
there is a very lot of magics happening here. i don't think its Faerie (no plans to have the Fae present here) but i guess time will tell on that front. just gotta get there. i don't know why it makes you so happy and giddy. i'm glad it does. i figured at least one of the girls' braids would be hanging off the bed. some instinct told me it would be Rosemary.
they are all very much in over their heads. just how much they are remains to be seen.
you know me. i'm the evil cliffy writer. also. i am really trying to stay as close to 6k words as i can. if i hadn't ended it there, it probably would have gone on for another 6k more. i want you to be able to read and digest what i've written. kind of hard to do that if there are a bajillion words to go through.
i am so glad you enjoyed it, sweetie. i am having a whole bunch of fun with this world. not that you could tell or anything. i am going to try and get something else written before i come back to this, so it might be a wee while. but never fear. i will come back to it.
thanks for reading! i'm really glad you enjoyed. and thanks for the kind words. comments are <3