05-Mar-2001
Title: The Wyrd
Author: Dan
Archive: GW Addiction
Pairings: Not tellin'
Warnings: Some yech, AU, OC, violence, yadda yadda
Timeline: In between the series and EW but it's an AU so I am beyond the timeline!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Rating: PG-13? No worse than Gladiator, really.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Don't sue.
Rhiannon chuckled quietly when the Warlord swore, snarled and spat as the druid quietly cleansed the ugly wound that marred the smooth line of her leg.
"Perhaps, Warlord, if you did not think that everything could be solved with swords, you would not find yourself in my hands quite so much." The elegant druid commented, with the slightest sardonic edge to her words.
"If I could lay the—fuck, that HURTS, witch!—sword down, I would. Do you think I enjoy spending one year, six months, three weeks, nine days, and this morning away from my home?!" Charmiane snarled.
The long-haired druid sat back on her haunches and looked steadily up at the irate Warlord. "You know how long you have been away to the day?"
"Aye, I feel every moment of it like an ache in my soul." Charmiane sighed and stared down into the icy blue eyes of her friend. "But I do my duty."
"Even though it kills you." Rhiannon was incredibly sad to hear her friend speak so plainly, for in this dance of the wyrd her naturally gentle friend was being forced to take on a role that was killing her bit by bit, all because of her duty to her homeland.
"It hasn't killed me yet, Rhiannon. And today, we go home. The demon hordes have retreated from the borders." Charmiane smiled brilliantly at the mere thought of return to her home and her family. "I'm going home."
"For that I am glad, Warlord. This does not suit you. These battlefields and all this blood." Rhiannon picked up the basin of red and muckish water, and dumped it without ceremony outside the simple tent. It never ceased to amaze her that despite the Warlord's status she never asked for anything more than the simplest of accommodations. Perhaps that is why she had such a rapport with her men; Charmiane rarely asked for anything, so when she did everyone tripped over their feet to get it for her.
"No more than they fit you, Rhiannon. But sometimes things cannot be settled without a little bit of bloodshed. Sometimes, blood must be spilt before things can changed." The Warlord shrugged. "'Tis the way."
"It doesn't have to be! If only people would listen... " Rhiannon stopped as the golden-haired woman chuckled quietly. Charmiane raised eyes the color of her beloved sea and shook her head at the druid. Rhiannon got so worked up about her beliefs that sometimes it was easier simply to agree with her than argue.
"Aye, you need not tell me. All I want to do is go home."
"And that, unfortunately, I must delay." A quiet, though childishly high voice, cut through the calm of the tent. "Charmiane of the North, I beg your help one more time. Forgive me."
"Empress!"
Both women dropped to their knees before the elegant flame haired child that stood in the center of the tent. The girl's long hair was coiled in the style of high nobility and her posture screamed that she was in a position of power. She held out her hands and gently touched both the silver-haired druid and the still blood-spattered warlord and lifted them up. "Do not kneel before me. Soon there will be no need."
"Empress? Are you ill? I feel no disturbances in your aura. Ca-" Rhiannon was cut off by a delicate hand lifted in silence.
"I am well, Rhiannon. Please, this concerns Charmiane. Leave us," She smiled up at the tall white clad woman to soften the harshness of her words. "I will come to speak to you soon. I will need the help of the Druid council in this matter. It concerns us all."
Rhiannon merely nodded her consent and gracefully left the child-ruler and the proud Warlord. Whatever confusion filled her, she ignored for she trusted this delicate girl far more than she would any adult.
The druid pulled the white furred cloak closer about her shoulders and walked out from the tent. Her eyebrows arched as she watched the confusion of the men running to ready the Empress-apparent's tent. A long, rich braid of chestnut colored hair caught her attention and she sneered delicately. That foolish fop of a man had once again followed the Empress-apparent from his cushy abode in the south.
"Dakalil, you worthless squawking twit, come here." She commanded. The man turned on one heel and bounded up before her. He pressed his face close to hers and peered at her with brilliant, curious eyes.
"Does the Voice of the Druid council command my presence? Perhaps the long day tending to the wounded and chasing away the lurking spirit demons has exhausted you to the point that nothing shall rest your weary soul but a sweet song?"
She sighed over the young man's exaggerated front of foolishness. "Drop the charade, Dakalil. Why is the Empress-apparent here?"
"Why would you ask me?" He batted eyelashes that were the envy of all the fair maids of the south. "I am just a simple harper."
She chuckled as he made a sweeping bow before her. "You are by no means simple, Dakalil the Master Harper, and I know you see everything and hear everything worth hearing by one means or another. Come on, Dakalil, tell me why she is here."
"For the price of a glass of wine and the grace of your company, I will tell you all." The lithe man winked outrageously at the druid.
"That I can arrange. In fact, I'd enjoy it; it's been hellishly cold these past days." She took his offered arm and walked with him towards her tent. "But really, Dakalil, must you act like a brainless fop?"
"If people think that I am no more than a brainless fool that the Empress-apparent keeps around because I have a pretty face and voice, then they are more likely to drop their little secrets." His voice held a note of disgust and utter seriousness.
"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it. I prefer your intelligence and your little barbs. Charmiane fights back with insults that are like that blasted bastard sword of hers. I prefer to have skirmishes with a person of more... elegance." Rhiannon sighed as she made her way into her tent. She appreciated the harper's wit and intelligence. It seemed to her a colossal pity that he had to cover it up; moreover, it annoyed her a great deal that he had to pretend to be less intelligent than the stupid simpering nobles when he could run mental circles around them.
"Charmiane is a warrior. They rarely take the time to play with words." The harper shrugged one lean shoulder. "But it's precisely because she does not play games that Elsinore wants her to become Regent."
Rhiannon dropped the glass she was holding in shook. "REGENT?! CHARM?!"
Dakalil went diving for the falling glass and caught it easily. He glared up at the stunned druid. "Watch it with crystal, Rhiannon." He grinned at her for a moment. "Startling thought isn't it? Elsinore wants to step down as Empress-apparent and wants to give the power back to the Senate, to the people. She needs someone who doesn't care about politics or power to help her with that. And since when has Charmiane wanted anything other than to go home and help her people?"
The longhaired druid stared into his violet eyes with dumbfounded shock on her face. "But...but... Lord Riogh... will... "
The Master Harper scowled. "Yes, that evil bastard of a Steward will certainly not like this, but he has yet to be told. Elsinore has been very clever around her uncle."
"He doesn't know yet?" Rhiannon sank into a low-slung chair, still trying to process the idea of Charmiane as Regent. A horrifying idea went straight through her. "He'll kill her."
"He'll try." Dakalil smiled ruefully. "Riogh is caught by the balls with this one. If he attacks Charmiane, she'll kill him without thought. If he attacks Elsinore, Charmiane will kill him slow."
"Will she agree? Dakalil, all she wants is to go home. Hasn't she earned that yet?" Rhiannon scowled, fiercely protective of her friend. "Hasn't she done enough? She deserves some peace in her life."
"I'm not arguing with that, Druid, but whom else can act as Regent and not be tempted? Whom else can Elsinore turn to?" The Master Harper sighed, frustrated at the situation. "None of the members of Senate can do it; the army distrusts them. It has to be Charmiane."
"She deserves a little peace. Everything she has ever done has been for her people; when will she ever have time for herself? It isn't right." Rhiannon glared at the glass in her hands as if it would alleviate the guilt in her heart. "It isn't fair."
Dorothy inhaled sharply as she jerked awake, a deep feeling of foreboding swept through her as she dragged herself from bed. As she sat in the shadows of the evening she scrubbed her face with her hands. She'd been having such odd, odd dreams. As she contemplated return to sleep the ring of her vid phone imperiously demanded her attention. She swung her long legs off the bed and stalked her way to it.
"Catalonia."
The fuzzy image of Lady Une greeted her, but she was too well trained to do anything other than arch one forked eyebrow. "Lady Une. To what do I owe the honor of this call?"
"Relena has been kidnapped." All the color fled from the blonde's already pale face. "We need your help to find any information concerning the people who did this."
"Of course. Anything to help her. Give me anything you have and I will make sure that anything you need to know, you'll know." Dorothy allowed herself one moment of weakness. "Lady Une, swear to me that you'll make whoever did this pay. Swear it."
The brunette regarded the former representative of the Romerfeller Corporation for a long time before replying. "I swear."
End Part 2
(:./dan/wyrd2)
