Topic: The Smallest Detail

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:34 EST
((Follows on immediately from The Heart of Avalon.))

It had been some months since Rhys had been to the Treasury, not since they'd laid Joyeuse to rest. In a strange way, he missed that sword, the way it felt in his hand, like it belonged there, and yet, he didn't miss the task that had gone along with it. The Treasury itself was little more than a large cavern set with niches and pedestals where the various artifacts that had been collected over the course of time were stored within protective sigils, effectively protecting them against theft or misuse. Rhys remembered the way, following the sound of voices quietly conversing upon his approach. He recognized those voices as that of his beloved Natalya and the Grand Master, Sir Lionel Cavendish, who was probably the closest thing either had to a father figure here in Avalon.

His journey took him past a familiar pedestal, where Joyeuse and her sister, Durendal, lay together on smooth stone, both broken and finally allowed to rest. Beyond that pedestal were revealed Nat and Sir Lionel, standing before a large mirror that seemed to have been carved out of the very rock of the cavern itself, suspended against the curved wall. The protective sigils about it were thick and writhing, stronger than any other in the entire Treasury. As Rhys' footsteps made themselves known, Nat looked up from her conversation with the Grand Master, a warm smile on her face for her husband, even as Sir Lionel greeted him.

"Ah, and there is the Lady's Champion," he declared in his jocular tone, showing himself to be in a good mood for once. He extended a hand toward Rhys in greeting. "My Lord Champion, welcome back to Avalon. Your wife has been chattering non-stop since she got here."

Beside him, Nat's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in a wordless protest at this patently obvious lie.

Rhys remembered laying Joyeuse to rest, and his fingers itched to touch her as he moved past, pausing a moment to look on her longingly. She called to him like an old lover, but he resisted. She was the past, she was no longer needed. She had served her purpose and now it was time for her to rest, but he did not share her fate. Not yet. There was still too much for him to do. He pulled himself away from her and continued on to join the other two, just a few feet away, where they stood in front of a great mirror he assumed was not there to serve anyone's vanity. Rhys returned the Grand Master's greeting, reaching for his hand and flashing a warm smile. He'd become fond of the older man, once he'd gotten past his rough exterior. "Sir Lionel, I trust you are well," he replied, his smile widening as he glanced at Natalya. "Hasn't been bragging too much about my sexual stamina, has she?" he asked, purposely seeking to get a rise from his wife and a chuckle from the Grand Master.

He got his chuckle from the Grand Master. "I should hope you do have stamina, lad," the older man laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Never be the first to pass out, that is my only advice."

Nat's eyes narrowed at Rhys as he teased her, her lips curving in a warm smile at the warmth that had grown up between the three of them. They were the three highest ranked of Avalon, beneath the Lady; that they had found an equitable manner of dealing with one another was a relief. "I am not going to respond to either of you on this subject," she informed both men with a roll of her eyes, which set Sir Lionel off laughing once again.

"Oh, I can assure you she's the one who does the passing out first," Rhys replied with a teasing grin, mostly said for Natalya's sake. The opportunity to tease her was rare, though he knew he couldn't push too far or he risked facing her wrath. Still, there was a certain camaraderie that had grown between them that was almost akin to family, and he was enjoying his place in that family. Before she could react either way, he abruptly turned his attention to the mirror, eyeing it curiously. "Don't tell me this once belonged to Snow White's evil stepmother."

His change of subject was just in time to save the Champion of Avalon from having the Priestess (and his wife) dress him down in front of the Grand Master of the Order of the Temple. As his gaze turned to the mirror, Nat subsided, snorting softly with laughter as she settled in at his side, looking up at the mirror herself. It was almost as though living liquid silver had been captured in a rough stone frame, the surface constantly moving, not reflecting the Treasury around them at all.

Sir Lionel glanced briefly toward it. "If it had, she would have won," he told Rhys in a sombre tone, clasping his hands behind his back comfortably. "This is a Mirror of Souls, one of three known to have been created long before the advent of Christianity, and the only one that exists in the world today."

Rhys turned a curiously-arched brow on the Grand Master at his slightly-cryptic remark. Was he dropping a hint that the tale of Snow White had been more than just a story created to frighten small children" And more importantly than that, was Lionel suggesting what Rhys thought he was suggesting" Rhys stifled a shudder at the thought of what it might feel like to find one's soul trapped in such a thing for all of eternity. It was a fate he wished on no one, except maybe demons. "Okay, but unless you have a pocketsize version, it's a little impractical, don't you think?"

Sir Lionel chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head. "This is merely what you might call our storage medium," he told Rhys. "There is no practical way this Mirror could be taken into the world outside, or indeed, out of the sigils that protect it. Anything that touches that surface is absorbed. What the Mirror contains is a portal to a pocket dimension - a forbidding, if you like - specifically designed millenia ago to serve as a place of banishment for the irredeemable."

Rhys winced, glad he hadn't reached out to touch the thing and wondering why they didn't put a guard rail around it or something. A sign. A cage. Anything that would prevent some unsuspecting person - like himself - from touching it. But maybe that was what the sigils were for. Whatever the case, he was glad he hadn't been stupid enough to try. He failed in stifling that shudder this time, reaching for Nat's hand, if only to keep the twitch from his fingers. "Like demons," he added, understanding.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:35 EST
"Indeed," the Grand Master agreed. "With the closing of the Gates of Hell, we were forced to find alternatives to the standard exorcisms that have worked in the past. We can no longer banish a demon back to Hell; an exorcism merely frees the demonic soul from the host these days."

Nat's fingers wound into Rhys' as she picked up the conversation - she had spent the past hour or so discussing this very thing with Sir Lionel while her husband was with the Lady. "As I understand it, the Temple has adapted a potent exorcism to act as a catalyst," she said quietly. "The demon is exorcised and drawn into a trap of some kind, which is then brought back here and thrown into the Mirror."

Rhys nodded along as he listened, all of this making perfect sense. Had he not been privy to Avalon, he might never know this and might have gone on doing things the old way forever without ever knowing his efforts were having no real effect on the demonic population, which brought him to another subject that had been keeping him awake at night. "Okay, sounds simple enough, but what about all those hunters out there who have no idea" I mean, unless the demons have been blabbing, I assume it's not very well known that the rules have changed."

"That is a concern, yes," Sir Lionel acknowledged. "I believe the Lady has authorized one of the orders here on Avalon to collect the information and go out into the world, to seek out various hunters and form a sort of liaison with them. We are endeavoring to get this information to them, but as you know, hunters are a suspicious lot. It will take a while to convince them that this is the best option."

Rhys took this all into quiet consideration, remembering something he'd been told when he'd first arrived in Avalon, which seemed like a long time ago, though it had not been very long at all. "I know some of them. I could help pass the word, but..." He frowned a little, wondering if that was something more up Adam's alley. He'd never been very well known or liked among other hunters, and he knew they would only balk if he told them the truth. Still, he and Adam had contacts they'd made through David and Dylan. Maybe if they went through them, they'd find someone who'd listen. At present, Rhys had other things on his mind though, namely that of his sister. "I'm not sure how we'd convince them. I'm not even sure where they all are." Hunters were, for the most part, a fairly unorganized lot and without a base of operations, passing the word would be difficult. "David and Dylan had a list of contacts. Maybe if we went through them, we'd find someone who could help."

"As Natalya has explained to me, this is something you both need to know now," Sir Lionel pressed on. "We can discuss dissemination of this information when your sister is safe once again. While she is in the hands of those you work against, she is in danger of being harmed should word reach them that you are involved in the inevitable defeat of those demons left trapped on Earth." He looked Rhys over for a moment. "I assume wherever you go, you have pockets that are readily accessible, yes?"

Rhys' expression turned even more grave as Lionel came straight to the heart of the matter. Natalya had obviously already explained the situation that Rhys had been discussing with the Lady, each of them working toward the common goal of finding his sister, assuming Lionel only knew what Natalya had told him. "She's alive. I saw her. I talked to her. Her name is Rachel," he interjected, reaching into his pocket for the necklace to show to the other pair, the moonstone shining like moonlight in the palm of his hand. "She gave me this. The Lady said it will help us locate her." He didn't bother to answer Lionel's question just yet, which went without asking anyway.

"You spoke to her?" Nat's attention switched instantly from the Grand Master to her husband, gentle and warm as she let herself show the half-smile that wanted to be made. She had been so certain that Rhys' sister was alive, it was something of an astonishing vindication to have the Lady confirm that certainty. "How is that possible" The Lady's pool shows only visions."

"It was a spell, I think," he replied, turning to Nat, his fingers closing back around the moonstone to show her a tiny wound in his index finger left from the thorn. "A drop of my blood, and I was there." He'd fill them both in on the details of his sister's prison presently, but first he wanted to assure Sir Lionel of the Lady's well-being. "She's resting," he reassured the man before he could worry, knowing he cared for the Lady of Avalon more than any other. "The spell weakened her, tired her out, but she's fine. She's sleeping."

The older man nodded, the barely perceptible tension that had crept into his form relaxing as Rhys assured him of the Lady's health. "That is a powerful spell," he agreed, watching as Natalya inspected the little wound on her husband's finger thoughtfully. "The Lady's own power is what gives the pool its unique qualities - to transform that, even for a few moments, into a portal through which even a single person can make a journey is ....it is mind-boggling. It is the equivalent of the spell that brought Avalon into the mists, centuries ago."

"She didn't give me much choice," he said, mostly to Lionel. "Before I realized what she was doing, I was already there." A small frown found his face, obviously worried about the sister he had only just met, but had missed all his life. "She's alive, anyway, but I'm not sure where. The Lady said this would help us find her." He opened his hand to reveal the moonstone once again, a little puzzled how it all worked.

"You say your sister ....Rachel ....gave you this?" Nat asked, not touching the precious little necklace but leaning close to let her fingers hover over it. "If the Lady believes that it can be used to track her, then it must be very personal to her. Anything so personal can be used in combination with a spell to at least narrow down the search."

"Yeah, I didn't have much time. I asked her if there was anything she could give me that belonged to her, and she gave me this." His gaze darted to the stone in his hand, never having seen it before his sister had handed it to him. "I'm not sure where she got it. I've never seen it before." To the best of his recollection, it hadn't belonged to his mother, and he hadn't had time to ask where she'd obtained it. Though his visit had been brief, he had noticed a few other important details while he'd been there. "She's being kept in a chamber of some sort without doors or windows." He frowned at the thought of her there, all alone, with no hope for escape. Though she'd seemed content enough, it had to make for a very lonely existence. "She's all alone there, Nat. I promised I'd find her and bring her home."

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:36 EST
"And we will," his wife promised him in return, holding his gaze with firm insistence. "We will bring her home, and we will keep her safe. Together." She smiled gently, rising up to kiss him, unashamed to show her affection for her husband in front of the Grand Master.

Sir Lionel watched them with just merest hint of envy in his gaze. He loved the Lady, yes, but he would never have what they shared together with the woman of his heart. "If you require it, Avalon will mobilize to your aid," he added on the end of Nat's promise to her husband. "I daresay the Lady would be awfully cross with me for giving that order, but you are our Champion, the second in Arthur's line. We will follow you into battle, should the need arise."

Rhys had not had much time to reflect on his sister's imprisonment or how he felt about it, before joining her and Lionel, and the look on his face was proof that he was deeply worried for her safety. His eyes were for Nat alone in that moment, finding comfort in her affection and reassurance. He knew that together they would find his sister and bring her home, or he'd die trying, but he wasn't about to tell her that. And there was the promise he needed her to make that she wouldn't go with him, but he thought he would save that little revelation for later. "I know," he replied, returning her smile with one of his own, albeit weakly, turning then to the Grand Master, desperation turning to determination. "I may just take you up on that, Lionel. I've been told by several someones that I am guilty of the sin of pride." Though not in so many words.

"Wherever you are in the world, Rhys, you are never far from one of us," Lionel told him firmly, knowing it for a fact. "Call on us if you have need, and we will answer." He smiled reassuringly to the younger man, glancing at the woman who had once been one of this knights and was now the Priestess of Avalon herself. "Though I think between you, you are stubborn enough to do just about anything."

For the second time that day Rhys had been told to call on those who were willing and able to help, once by the Lady and now by Lionel, though he wasn't quite sure how that was accomplished. Still, without their help, he would certainly not have made it this far. The Gates of Hell would not have been closed, and he would most likely be dead. He was starting to see that his meeting Natalya may not have been merely good luck. He guessed the Lady's hand had been at work there, as well, bringing them both together and into her circle. At any time, he could have chosen a different path, but he had not, and though he may not have said so in so many words, he was deeply grateful for their help. Rhys smiled a little at Lionel's remark, wrapping a free arm around his wife's shoulders to hug her close. "One of us is, anyway." It was anyone's guess which of them he was referring to in his jest.

Nat giggled softly as she found herself tucked close into Rhys' side, wrapping her own arms about his waist as he smiled. Things were going to be a little bumpy for the next few weeks, she thought, but this was a good start. He had his goal in mind, and the offer of aid from a man who could put an army in the field within hours.

That man smiled indulgently at the pair of them, clearing his throat to keep from laughing at the implication that one of them was more stubborn than the other. "I have explained to Natalya how you may transport demonic souls from Earth to Avalon, to be disposed of in the Mirror," he brought them back onto topic confidently. "If you make a stop at Yves' workshop, you will be able to take away the obsidian traps."

Rhys brushed a fond kiss against his wife's cheek as he tucked the moonstone safely back in his pocket. He was going to have to find a safer place for it, but for now that was good enough. "Obsidian traps?" he echoed, turning his attention back to the matter at hand. He wasn't sure if they were going to encounter any demons on this latest quest, but it was best to be prepared.

"One of the scholars at the Abbey discovered that one for us," Lionel said, his tone conversational despite the serious topic. "Clever chap, open-minded for a Christian. He's one of their history scholars - found several references to obsidian in different cultures known for their magical powers through the millenia, did a bit of research. Yves did some experimentation. What we have now are polished obsidian stones, enchanted and imbued with devil's traps. You exorcise a demon with the chant I've given Natalya, it is drawn into the obsidian, and it stays there. Multiple use, too, I believe."

Rhys followed the man's logic, easily putting two and two together, taking a guess at the logical conclusion. "Then you toss the stones into the mirror, and the demons' souls are forever trapped in the abyss." It made perfect sense, though Rhys knew it wasn't as simple as it sounded. First, you'd have to recognize the demon; then, you'd have to trap it and exorcise it. If you could do that without harming the host or getting killed, the plan might just work.

"Indeed. I realize it isn't the neatest solution, but it certainly beats killing the host and allowing the demon to roam free once more," the Grand Master nodded in agreement. He looked down at Natalya. "And you are comfortable with the theory, little madam, or would you like to go and make Yves' ears bleed again?"

She snorted with laughter, a slightly guilty expression on her face for the reminder of what had happened the last time she questioned the combined wisdom of the Isle. "No, Master, I am content."

"Agreed," Rhys replied, though it wasn't a perfect solution. The demon was still free to inflict pain and injury on the human host, but in his experience, that was rare. His thoughts drifted momentarily to his first love, Jessie, who - possessed by a demon - had jumped from a bridge to a watery death, stifling another shudder at the memory. For a moment, he heard their voices but lost the thread of the conversation before forcing his attention back on the subject at hand. "I'm not so sure she's being held by demons. The Lady said something about dark power. Demon touched, but human made." He turned to Natalya, wondering if her thoughts were following his.

As he spoke, Nat looked up at him. She had as much experience of the supernatural as he did, though her encounters to date had not so much revolved around violence as much as theft. Even so, she knew enough to follow his thoughts easily. "Witches," she said, releasing a weary sigh. "I hate witches." The evil ones, at least. Her own mother had been a witch, after all.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:36 EST
"Yeah," Rhys replied grimly. "I haven't had too much experience with witches." Ghosts, ghouls, vampires, demons, werewolves, but there had not been many witch hunts listed in his proverbial resume of hunting skills and experiences. They might have to do a little more research on this one.

"Children." Lionel's tone was so wryly amused that Nat looked up at the Grand Master in surprise. "It is not necessary to run in with guns blazing," he told him mildly. "Perhaps there is a way to steal the girl from her captors."

Rhys turned to Lionel, so absorbed in his own thought process, he'd almost forgotten the other man was there, though Lionel was hard to forget and even harder to ignore. "While I was there, she - Rachel - mentioned a them. She didn't say who they were, but the Lady mentioned them, too. She's being kept there by someone. I'm not sure who or how many of them there are. Don't witches usually work in groups of three?" he asked, looking to either for confirmation.

"I think so," Natalya answered him. "White witches are able to work alone, because their power comes from their intention, their own energy. Evil witches ....I cannot be certain, but I think they are only able to cast when they are connected in a coven." She glanced to Lionel, who shrugged.

"I know less than you, I think," he confessed reluctantly. "But in this instance, I believe you are right. Yet such witches are seduced into their power by a demon, usually. Destroying that demon would destroy their power, in theory."

"Then it wasn't Abaddon," Rhys interjected. "Unless..." He turned quiet a moment, thoughtful. "The Lady said Rachel is innocent and that there's power in that innocence. They're using her somehow. Maybe they have plans of their own," he theorized. "Maybe they don't need the demons anymore."

"Maybe not." It was a harrowing thought; that the very person they wanted to liberate could be the origin of the power that they would have to counteract in order to free her in the first place.

Lionel frowned. "They've raised an innocent?" he asked, his astonishment clear. "That is quite a feat. Yes, Rhys, there is power in innocence, power enough to serve as the focus for spells that could wipe out an entire town. If they truly are witches and are siphoning that power from her ....you may have to break her innocence in order to free her."

Rhys was about to confirm Lionel's suspicions. After all, he suspected his sister had been stolen at birth or shortly thereafter, and thus she would have been innocent. The implications of that suddenly seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks. If they were right in their assumptions, his sister had been kept a prisoner for over twenty-five years. Rhys heard himself groan, feeling suddenly a little sick at the thought, his face turning pale. If only he'd known sooner, he could have rescued her! But how" He had only just come into this information recently. All these years, he'd thought she was dead. It was Lionel's conclusion that struck him like a slap in the face. "How the hell..." He broke off at the accidental mention of hell. "How am I supposed to do that?" he asked, more than a little perplexed.

"Two ways spring to mind," Lionel began, but Natalya cut him off before he could bluntly inform Rhys of what those two ways were. Neither of them were particularly pleasing in any way.

She curled her hands about Rhys' arm, drawing him away a little. He was going to need just a little privacy to absorb what she was about to tell him. "Rhys, there are many ways to break someone's innocence," she told him gently. "But they take years, they are a natural part of growing in the world. We will not have that time. If this truly is our only option, then we will have to focus our efforts upon either Rachel's physical innocence, or her blood innocence. One or the other - we do not have the luxury of time and education."

Rhys looked between them, a little confused when Natalya tugged at his arm, drawing him a little away from the Grand Master, as if she had some secret to tell. "I'm not going to have sex with my own sister, Nat," he pointed out. "And I'm sure as hell....heck....not gonna let someone else do it either." It was the first thing that popped into his head, and what had taken Jessie's innocence and left her vulnerable to demons.

Her brow rose as she looked up at him, rolling her eyes. "I would never have suggested that you do that to her," she informed him, shaking her head. "And it is not so simple as just having her lose her virginity. She must feel desire, she must want it to happen. That is the loss she would have to feel. Or ..." She hesitated, genuinely disturbed by even the thought of what she was about to say. "Or she will have to experience blood on her hands."

If it was possible for Rhys' face to turn any paler, it would have. He felt his hands shake at the very thought of forcing his sister to share his own guilt, to take someone's life, no matter who that life might belong to. "No," he said flat out, leaving no room for compromise. "There has to be another way."

"Then I would recommend you select a random stranger whom you think she'd take a liking to and pay him to walk through fire in order to give her a kiss that will inflame her loins," his wife told him, a little ruthless but sincere, nonetheless.

Rhys clenched his jaw at her suggestion. She had to know he would be opposed to that even more than to the thought of his sister spilling someone else's blood. "She's my sister, for God's sake! You know I'm not gonna allow that." He blew out a breath, considering the alternative. "What if she spilled my blood?" he asked, tentatively. "Just a little of it. Just enough to break her innocence." He had a feeling that wouldn't work either; that she'd need to feel hatred in order to break her of the innocence that held her captive in her solitary imprisonment, but maybe it wasn't so much the act that was important as it was the feeling that fueled it.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:37 EST
"No, milaya." She shook her head, understanding how hard it was for him to accept that there was no shortcut he could take to this. "It is not the act that will break her innocence. It is the emotion. She is innocent - she has never felt anger or desire. She must feel either very strongly, or whatever we do will not work."

He knew she was right, but the thought of either prospect troubled him. It was his little sister they were talking about. His own flesh and blood. "You know, I used to talk to her before she was born," he said, changing the subject, unsure why this was important, feeling those same emotions building up inside him that he'd tried so hard to suppress for the Lady's sake. The last thing he wanted to do was break down here in front of Sir Lionel. He drew a shaky breath in an effort to contain and control that side of his own human nature. "All right. When the time comes, I'm sure she'll be more than angry with the bitches for keeping her from us." Without even realizing it, he'd said us, not me, including her in the circle of family that was slowly growing larger.

Natalya nodded, cradling his face in her hands as he struggled to calm himself down, holding him there until the balance was restored. Personally, she would have gone with convincing Adam to kiss the young woman in question, but the choice belonged to Rhys. So long as he was prepared to accept the consequences of an innocent sister with blood on her hands, she would stand by his decision, no matter her personal feelings. "We won't let them hurt her," she promised him quietly. "Not any more."

He would have been open to that suggestion had it made itself known, as awkward as it might have been, not only for Adam, but all of them, but it never occurred to him to suggest it. There was still time to sort out the ways and means later. What was important now was figuring out how to find her and then go from there. He drew comfort from Natalya's touch and her quiet reassurance, his forehead coming to rest momentarily against hers. "We'll figure it out somehow," he replied in quiet agreement.

"We will," she told him, her agreement as fervent and full of support as she could make it. "And you will not go into this alone, dusha moya. She is my sister now, too." She kissed him tenderly, stroking her fingers into his hair before she drew away, glancing up to find that the Grand Master had given them all the privacy they needed. Lionel Cavendish might be a little out of touch with the world, but he understood when he was no longer required.

He believed her and he believed in her, setting his own pride and stubbornness aside for her sake and for the sake of his sister, but there was still something else Natalya didn't know. A few somethings actually, but one was weighing more heavily on his mind than the other. "Nat," he started, gentling his voice as much as he could, touching her face with the back of his hand. "You're not coming with me. Not this time."

Now he knew his wife pretty well ....well enough to know that her reaction to this gentle insistence was not the most encouraging. She didn't explode at him, she didn't even appear to grow angry. She simply went very still, holding his gaze for a very long time. When she finally spoke, it was a single word that held heavy overtones of just how thin his tightrope was at that moment. "What?"

He recognized that calm before the storm and sought to avoid it, to cut it off before it made itself known. "Nat," he started again. "The Lady told me to keep you out of the fight. If you go, you have to promise me to stay clear of any violence. It's important."

"But why?" she demanded, her voice quiet only out of deference to their location. Had they been anywhere else, it was a fair bet Rhys would have been protecting his ears as her decibels climbed. "I am your wife, this is our family, Rhys. I can't let you go into this fight alone. Why would she wish to make you face this without me?"

There were several ways he could answer that question. For one, he was going to need someone - preferably her - to handle his sister. But the real reason was far more complex, far more important. "Because, Nat..." He did not tell her in precise words, choosing to keep this small part of what the Lady had told him between them alone, not even privy to Sir Lionel's acute hearing. He drew her close, settling a hand against the flat of her stomach, where - if the Lady was right, and it was unlikely she wasn't - another life was already stirring inside her, though it had not yet made itself known, even its mother. He hoped that gesture would convey more than any explanation he could have given her.

"What?" she questioned him again as his voice trailed off, gazing into his eyes as he laid his hand against the trim flat of her belly. It felt like an eternity that they stood there like that, the one trying to convey to the other the truth shared by a woman they both had such faith in without words. Nat's face held a confused frown throughout that time, not understanding what it was he had failed to say aloud. Until suddenly she realized where his hand was. Her gaze dropped to the protective press of his palm against her, rising once more as her frown softened into incredulity. "I ....I am?" Brown eyes widened with shocked amazement as she gripped his jacket, knowing he would never lie to her about such a thing but not quite sure whether she could dare to believe it. "She told you?"

He would never dare to lie about such a thing, not even to keep the one person he loved more than any other safe. She would only find out the truth in time and hate him if he'd lied, and it was a simple enough matter for her to seek confirmation with the Lady. "She didn't say so in so many words, but I'm pretty sure that's what she meant. She said if you fight, more will be lost than my sister's innocence." It was almost but not quite a direct quote, as best as he remembered the Lady's words given him a short while ago. "Nat, if it's true, we can't take that risk." His eyes pleaded with her, hoping she understood how he felt about this, about the prospect of a child born of their love. He'd already lost one child; he did not think he could bear it again.

"No, we cannot," she agreed with him, her voice sounding strangely far away. Her hand fell to cover his. Was she really pregnant' It could not be so very far along, and yet how had the Lady known when even she, the mother of this unborn child, had no idea of her state? Whatever her argument against being left behind had been, it was swept aside in the instant she accepted the Lady's word through Rhys. "I will not fight," she promised him, raising her eyes to his as warm delight began to fill her expression. "I will not take that risk with our daughter."

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:38 EST
Rhys let out a long breath, like a huge load was lifted from his shoulders at Natalya's promise. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing his eyes closed against the threat of tears. He felt a wave of relief rush over him, though the fight to free his sister was yet to come. "I love you, Nat," he whispered quietly, for her ears only. His heart had been heavy with grief for too long; suddenly, it seemed there was hope on the horizon. One way or another, he was determined to see this through. They'd rescue his sister and be a family again, and he and Nat would start a family of their own.

Enveloped in his embrace, she hugged into him tightly, some part of her mind wondering just when she had conceived. It couldn't have been very long ago, surely, but was it weeks or was it days" How long before she could use a pregnancy test and actually get a positive result' But there was no denying the warm relief in Rhys as he wrapped her in his arms following her promise, and she couldn't help but respond to that with her own relief at knowing she was going to give him what he craved the most. "I love you, Rhys," she answered him softly, pressing her lips to his neck as her arms curled about his waist.

He felt excitement bubble up inside him, like a kid on Christmas morning, his only wish in the whole world finally coming true, and he laughed with pure joy, picking her up and spinning her before setting her carefully back down on her feet. "Oh my God! We have to call Adam and..." He broke off, just then remembering the wild goose chase he'd sent Adam on a few days ago. "Sh*t! I have to call Adam!" But of course, he couldn't call him, not from Avalon.

Lifted off her feet, Natalya's laughter rang through the Treasury with his, catching the ears of the Grand Master where he stood by the steps that led up to the library above. Sir Lionel might not have known exactly what was going on, but he had lived in Avalon for many years. He had learned how to spot when the Lady had shared something that she could not possibly have known by any conventional means. Smirking to himself, he turned his back on the Champion and Priestess once again, allowing them to indulge in their privacy a while longer.

As Rhys suddenly remembered the friend who had been sent in search of the information that he now had, regardless of that search, Nat couldn't help laughing a little. "Milaya," she reached out to calm him down, unable to keep the smile from her face. "We will be back in Glastonbury this evening. You will be able to call him then."

Rhys almost pouted at the reminder that they'd be back in Glastonbury by evening. Back to reality, but it had to happen sooner rather than later. If the witches - presuming it was witches that had his sister - sensed that he'd been interfering, they might take steps to prevent him from finding her, and then their opportunity would be lost. "Right. It's too bad we can't just, you know, portal ourselves to New York. It would be faster." Plus, they wouldn't have to fly.

Nat stilled, looking up at him in mild amazement. "I do not believe I have never thought of that," she said quietly. "There may well be a way to do that. I know there are portals that open in America - all over the world, actually." She frowned, her expression suddenly aching with thought for a very long moment. "There may be a way to reach New York by tonight, though we would need to ask the guardians how we would do that."

"Really?" Rhys asked, brightening. It wasn't that he didn't like their home in Glastonbury, but if there was any way he could avoid flying over the ocean, he was all for it. He'd traveled through portals before, and as illogical as it seemed, preferred it to conventional flying. A mischievous smile touched his lips. "Maybe we should surprise them." He was including Gina and Joey in the equation, knowing they were as much a part of Adam's life now as Natalya was of his own.

"Really." A small smile had touched her lips, not purely for his obvious delight at the thought of never having to fly again. "I have been reading a little of the histories of Avalon, to try and understand what we are now," she explained, awe creeping into her voice. "There was a line I did not truly understand. The Priestess, alone of the children of Avalon, could part the mists. What if that means I can open a portal to Avalon, no matter where we are?"

Rhys furrowed his brows at that little revelation. In part, he was wondering what it meant, but he was also wondering what that might mean for himself. The Grand Master had told him he could call on the Warriors of Avalon for help, but he had not really explained just how that was done. He assumed he didn't summon the warriors by blowing the Horn of Gondor. "But we're already in Avalon, Nat," he pointed out, wondering if it worked in reverse, as well.

"All it says is that she could part the mists," Nat said, trying to work this out as she said it. "We have to cross the mists to get in and out of Avalon." Her fingers touched the Lady's token where it hung at her throat. "What if this gives me the power to enter Avalon wherever I am, and to leave it to a destination of my choice?"

"Why don't you just ask?" he countered, though she wouldn't be able to ask the Lady just yet, as the Lady was resting. He frowned a little again, having promised to bid her farewell before they left, though he did not want to disturb her. He looked around for Sir Lionel, as if just remembering they weren't alone. At least, they weren't alone a few minutes ago.

What he found, when he looked for the Grand Master, was Sir Lionel at the foot of the steps that led down into the great Treasury of Avalon. The older man was down on one knee, his head bowed, and for a long moment, there was no clue as to why he should be in such a prostrate position. Then a shifting of shadows on the steps themselves betrayed the approach of a fourth into the greatest repository of power Avalon held. A skirt of rough silk came into view, bare feet flashing from beneath with each step taken, and the cavern seemed to quiet, each artifact there with any form of sentience aware of who it was who had joined them. The Lady gained the floor of the cavern, her face pale but her strength returned, reaching down to gently smooth her hand against Lionel's cheek. He looked up into her eyes, and in that look was all the love he held for her, his adoration plain upon his face as she drew him to his feet.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:39 EST
Rhys looked startled as the Lady appeared unexpectedly from out of nowhere - unexpectedly at least to him. She looked rested, but still pale, her beauty catching even him by surprise. She was mother and sister and daughter and goddess all wrapped into one, and he just barely managed to stop himself from falling onto one knee in reverential adoration. Instead, he reached for Nat's hand as they both watched something pass between the other couple, and Rhys' heart ached for them both. The love they felt for each other was obvious on both their faces, and yet, it could never truly be.

It seemed that the Lady was not so well rested as she first appeared, for she did not resist as the Grand Master offered her his arm, his strength. She laid her hand atop his with a gentle smile, turning her eyes to the couple who watched them as Lionel led her with tender consideration toward them. Nat's fingers tightened in Rhys' gasp - she had never seen the Lady here, in the Treasury, nor had she ever had the Lady answer a call she was not conscious of having made. Yet here she was, the beautiful, ancient soul of Avalon, smiling on them.

"It occurs to me that my Champion and my Priestess have not learned how to use the tokens I gave them upon their ascension," the Lady said softly. Strangely, there was no echo to her voice in the wide cavern, a suggestion that perhaps she was not truly there at all. Her gaze lowered to Nat's, warmly maternal. "That there are questions only I may answer."

Rhys sensed that this was Natalya's time for questions; he had already asked his own, and he did not dare press his luck by asking more. He noticed how the Lady's voice did not echo here they way that theirs did, but it did not occur to him that she might not truly be there at all, that this was not her physical self. He said nothing, daring not interrupt as the Lady addressed his wife, but ony gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as if to remind her that he was right there at her side.

Nat raised her eyes to the Lady, more cowed by the power and beauty of her than Rhys had ever seemed to be. It seemed as though she couldn't even speak, her breath trembling on her lips as the Lady held her gentle gaze, but finally a question broke free. "Is it true?" she asked, her accent thick with the need to know for certain. Her hand shook as it rose to rest over her womb.

The Lady's smile deepened, her own hand leaving Lionel's arm to lay over Natalya's at her waist for a long moment. "Yes," she said softly. "Not more than three days ago, the seed was planted. You carry within you a child of Avalon, my dearest girl."

Beside her, the Grand Master jerked in surprise, his own gaze snapping to Rhys in vague accusation. Minutes before, they had been discussing going into battle with demons - it pained him to realize that he had been discussing death with a woman so blessed.

Rhys smiled as the Lady confirmed the news he had only given his beloved a few minutes earlier, beaming with pride at the thought of a child born of their union, happiness bubbling up inside him again, though there was a long way to go before that child would be born. He shrugged in silent apology at Sir Lionel, who would have found out soon enough anyway. Rhys had drawn Natalya away so that he could give her the news, so that he could explain why she couldn't engage in the battle when the time came. It was only right that she should know the truth and that she should know it first. He slid an arm around Nat's waist to cover the Lady's hand with his own. It was going to be a long nine months, and Rhys was likely to be a slightly over-protective expectant father.

Unexpected tears rose in Nat's eyes as Rhys' hand covered the Lady's, the seed in her womb protected by all three of them in an unspoken promise to see the child born safe and well when the time came. "Thank you," she breathed, incredulity still touching her voice. Three days ....Not even the most precise of the sciences could pin such a date so closely, yet the Lady knew. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head once again, blinking away those tears as her fingers touched the token at her throat. "Lady ....is it true that I can part the mists?"

The Lady's hand slipped from between theirs, leaving father and mother, Champion and Priestess, to warm the place where their child would grow. Her smile never faltered, even as she took the Grand Master's arm once again. "Of course," she told Natalya, still gentle, still warm, still a mother in those moments. "Wherever you may be, think of Avalon, and the mists will part for you. Where you leave them when you depart our shores ....that is also in your power. A single thought may take you wherever you wish to go, so long as you bear my token."

Rhys remained quiet all the while the Lady explained these things to Natalya, his hand never faltering from where it laid against the place where his seed was growing inside her. If the Lady was right - and she had yet to be wrong - nine months from now, they'd have a daughter, and her name would be Anya, the first of a line from which would eventually come the next Lady of Avalon. His heart swelled with pride and joy at the news, and he found he couldn't stop smiling, despite the circumstances that had brought them here and the danger that still loomed in the days ahead. Rhys remembered the matching token he wore beneath his shirt, close to his heart and hidden from view. "What about me" Can I go with her?" he asked, almost afraid to ask more than he had already dared.

The Lady's smile turned wry as she turned her gaze to meet his in the wake of that question. "Avalon would hardly wish to separate her Champion from her Priestess, Rhys," she told him, her voice rich with amusement. "Your gifts will come to you when you need them most. Arthur did not know his until his need was greatest; so it shall be with you. But Avalon will never forsake you."

"Arthur had Excalibur," Rhys muttered quietly, though he'd had his chance with Joyeuse. A gun was far more practical a weapon and much easier to carry and conceal, but the sword had felt good in his hand; it had felt right. It may have been because of his angelic origins, but he hadn't thought about it that hard. He almost pouted childishly at her reply, but said nothing more.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:39 EST
Lionel suddenly barked out his distinctive laugh, unabashed by the way his voice echoed about the Treasury. He looked to the Lady, whose smile had grown wider at Rhys' mutter, both holding the other's gaze for a long moment as something unspoken passed between them. Then Lionel nodded, turning his gaze back to Rhys. "Hold out your hand, Champion of Avalon," he said through his slightly smug grin. "Call your sword to you."

At Rhys' side, Nat gasped softly, as though realizing something she had not told her husband, her own eyes rising to meet his encouragingly.

"What?" Rhys asked, glancing between the three of them. It was no big secret that Rhys had coveted Excalibur from the first time he'd seen it. It was the Sword of All Swords, in Rhys' eyes. "Well, what kind of Champion doesn't have a..." His voice trailed off quietly as the Lady and Grand Master exchanged glances before the older man addressed him. "...sword," he finished in a small voice. He heard Natalya gasp and furrowed his brows quizzically as he glanced her way. "What....You're kidding, right?" he asked, turning back to Lionel and the Lady. "You're not kidding."

"I never "kid", as you put it," the Lady warned him through her smile, seemingly as amused by his confusion as Lionel was himself.

Natalya twisted a little to turn her own smile on Rhys. "Watch," she told him, holding out her own hand. She concentrated, and a slender dagger appeared, its hilt resting in her palm, ready to be used in that moment. "This is my weapon of Avalon," his wife told him quietly. "There is a sword waiting for you to call it, and it will come whenever you do so, wherever you are. I thought you knew."

Rhys watched as Natalya called her own weapon to her, brows arching in surprise as it appeared like magic from out of thin air. "You mean like....like Thor's Hammer" That's awesome!" He cleared his throat as he remembered he was still in the Lady's company, lowering his gaze and looking a little embarrassed by his outburst. "Um..." He furrowed his brows again, wondering if that trick would work for him, if it was a trick. There had been a time when he could call his angel sword to him, but he'd never mastered it and was no longer an angel.

For a moment, confusion touched the Grand Master's expression as Rhys named one of the artifacts within the Treasury, but a shake of Natalya's head put him to rights. How on earth did she even begin to explain to a man who had been born on Avalon what a comic book was, or even a superhero'

As for the Lady, she kept her gaze upon Rhys' face as he frowned, each minute that passed leaning a little more heavily on Lionel's arm. "Do not think to call for a sword by name," she suggested. "Simply imagine a hilt in your hand and will it to be so. You will learn the name of your weapon when you hold it in your hand."

He turned serious at the Lady's instruction and nodded his head to acknowledge her. He drew a slow breath and closed his eyes, the way Nat had, so that he could concentrate, though he wasn't quite sure what he should be concentrating on. He extended an arm and uncurled his fingers to hold out his hand, palm up, furrowing his brows once again as he tried to imagine a hilt in his hand, no expectation of the blade or the hilt, other than to imagine what it felt like to hold it in his hand.

For the briefest moment, nothing happened. Then, as though the weight grew within his grasp, rather than dropping onto his palm, the hilt he imagined made itself known. It formed within his fingers, grip of a blade long and keen, settled within a scabbard of finely-wrought leather. The hilt in his hand was long enough to accommodate both his hands, the blade itself surprisingly light for its length. It was a bastard sword, made for use with one or two hands at its hilt, and on the blade itself, beneath where it joined the hilt, was engraved its name. Caliburnus.

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead as his concentration deepened. It was as if he was no longer there in the Treasury of Avalon but floating somewhere in the darkness of space, searching for something insubstantial, ephemeral, unreal. Slowly, he seemed to make some kind of inexplicable connection, unable to explain it to anyone, even to himself. He imagined the weight of a hilt in his hand and suddenly it was there, as if he had not chosen the blade, but rather, the blade had chosen him. He closed his fingers on the blade, feeling the weight of the blade tug at the muscles of his arm and very slowly he opened his eyes, as if to assure himself that he was not dreaming, eyes widening in awe at blade that had chosen him.

The three gathered with him watched, quiet and respectful, as that first connection was made, as ancient, rustless iron and steel formed in the palm of his hand. Without a thought, Nat banished her own weapon, her slender dagger, back to the nothingness where it resided awaiting her will, her wonder turned upon the beautiful hilt and scabbard in her husband's hand.

The Lady reached out, passing her fingers through the air above the hilt, and smiled in understanding. "I had wondered why no other could call that sword," she murmured, looking into Rhys' awestruck face. "This, too, was Arthur's blade, before Excalibur cleaved to his hand. Caliburnus is yours to command, Champion of Avalon."

As much as he'd coveted Excalibur and grown fond of Joyeuse, there was something about this sword that was different from the other two, something that made it unique, something that called to him and seemed to make it his, as if the two of them were somehow connected. Rhys' face went pale and still, a look of wonder on his face, and he stammered a moment, shaking his head in momentary denial, as if he was not worthy of the honor of carrying such a weapon, though the sword - and the Lady - had clearly found his worthy. "Mine," he echoed quietly, clearly in awe. "You mean, not just to borrow?" he asked, as he wrapped a second hand around the hilt to test the feel of it in his hands.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2013-11-11 09:40 EST
"Yours," the Lady assured him, the finality in her tone lending ritual to a moment that could so easily have become just one of many. Her hand returned to its place on Lionel's arm, leaning there once again, and for a moment, the Grand Master's expression turned from awe to concern as he looked to her. She was still weak from the casting of the spell that had shown Rhys his sister barely an hour before, yet she had answered a need for her presence outside her Temple garden. She would have to return there, soon.

"I don't know what to say," Rhys murmured quietly, in awe of the sword and perhaps more so, of the honors the Lady continued to bestow upon him. He knew these things didn't come without cost or expectation, but she had won his love and loyalty nearly from their first meeting, and both knew he would do anything she ever asked of him. "I'm honored," he said, turning to face her and without thought or pretense, going down on one knee before her, the sword-point to the ground between them. "I am your humble servant."

She smiled gently, reaching out to touch his head with her fingertips. "Caliburnus has chosen you, Rhys," she told him. "This is the magic of Avalon, not I. The sword will come to you whenever you call for it - no other may wield it. Bear it with honor, Champion."

"I will, My Lady," he replied quietly, head bow as reverently as any royal knight, his heart swelling once again with pride and a sense of wonder, as well as a deep desire to do her proud. He wanted her to never regret the choice she'd made and the faith she had in him.

"Rise, Champion of Avalon," the Lady ordered him, her voice weakening as her strength began to wane once again. "Your sister has need of you."

Nat's hand gently touched his shoulder, urging him up and onto his feet as, very gently, Lionel lifted the Lady into his arms. Whether she was truly there with them or not, she was solid enough to need his aid, neither asking for it nor expecting it. The Grand Master inclined his head to the couple before them, turning to escort the Lady from the Treasury and back to her Temple Garden.

Rhys hesitated a moment before rising to his feet, until he felt Nat's hand touch his shoulder, the Lady reminding him of his next quest - of their next quest. He arose just in time to see the Grand Master lift the Lady in his arms and carry her from the Treasury. He turned his gaze to Natalya, green eyes watery with tears once again. He sniffled once as he bowed his head to look at the blade in his hand, as if to make sure it was real. "What just happened?" he asked, turning the blade, which for the moment, was covered by a finely-wrought leather scabbard.

He was not the only one touched to tears by the weight of that moment. His wife's gaze was as watery as his own as she looked up at him, amazed and awed by the sheer weight of destiny in him. "You accepted your role as the Champion of Avalon, in a way you have never done before," she told him softly. Her hand gently covered his on the hilt of the sword. "Caliburnus was the sword in the stone, milaya. And it has chosen you."

He looked a little confused for a moment. So much had happened in the course of a few hours it was almost too much to absorb. He'd thought he'd already accepted his place as Champion when he'd drunk from the Grail and had passed the test that had found him worthy and expunged the guilt that had darkened his soul. "The sword in the stone?" he echoed, hardly believing her words. The name Caliburnus meant nothing to him. He'd never heard of a sword by that name before today. "Nat, that was....That was King Arthur's sword. I mean....Didn't it foretell that he was the true king of England?" He didn't know much about Arthurian legend, except for what he'd seen in movies, but it had given him at least a cursory knowledge of the legends.

Her smile softened, wondering whether he had taken in anything that had been said from the moment the sword had come to his hand. "That is what the Lady told you," she reminded gently. "This is the sword Arthur bore until he was given Excalibur. As his successor, it makes sense that Caliburnus would come to your hand." She chuckled as he groped for what little knowledge he had of the sword in his hand. "Yes, it was his drawing this sword from the stone that proclaimed him High King of England. But that, too, was managed by Avalon. Uther had already promised them his firstborn son, and they, in turn, had promised that Arthur would rule."

As much in shock and awe of the sword as Natalya had been to learn she was pregnant - or perhaps to also learn that she had the means within her grasp to take them wherever they wanted or needed to go - he had hardly heard a word of what the Lady had told him, or at least, it was only starting to sink into his brain now. He noticed that she was no longer holding the dagger she'd called in her hand and now wondered how to dispatch it. "How-how do I send it back to its resting place until I need it?"

She was, indeed, in as much shock and awe as he, unable to remove her hand from its resting place over her womb, not quite believing even now that their firstborn, their daughter, was beginning her cycle of life deep inside her. Rhys' question made Nat's smile soften, understanding the confusion of this particular skill. "It is called a banishing," she explained. "Everyone has a different way of doing it. I taught myself to let go of my blade and to tell it to return to its resting place in the same moment. It has never failed to do so."

"Tell it?" Rhys echoed uncertainly. "Do you mean talk to it or....will it to return in my mind the way I willed it to come to me?" He had never quite mastered the summoning of his angel blade and there had been no one to teach him. Or perhaps he had just been too proud to ask. He didn't want to think of that now. Thinking of that would turn his thoughts to the golden-haired angel who'd haunted his dreams since he was a boy of nine.

"Will it," she nodded to him. "Or speak to it. Whichever you are most comfortable with, dusha moya. It will respond to you, and you alone. So long as your intention is for Caliburnus to rest until it is needed once again, it will do as you bid."

"Okay," he replied, setting his shoulders to prepare himself before closing his eyes. He was almost afraid to open his hand and let go of the blade, afraid he'd hear it clatter onto the cavern floor. He tried to visualize the blade returning to its resting place, his hand empty, licking his lips before addressing the blade, as if it was a living thing. "Caliburnus," he started. "I bid you return to your resting place, until I have need of you again."

The sword in his hand responded to his will, blinking out of sight and tangible existence at its master's command. Nat's smile widened, pleased to see Rhys embracing this side of who and what he was, though she still felt a little guilty for not telling him about the weapons of Avalon before now. Her fingers stroked over his now empty palm as she looked up at him. "You have mastered your blade, milaya."

Though he should have been happy and pleased, a small frown appeared on his face when he opened his eyes to meet Nat's gaze. His life would have been so much easier if he'd mastered that task earlier in life, if he'd known who he was and had possessed a weapon capable of killing demons. The skill and the sword came too late to save those he'd once loved, but there was still one who needed rescuing, and he would not forsake her. "I wish I'd mastered it years ago," he admitted quietly.

"Regrets are a part of what makes us who and what we are," she told him quietly, raising her hand to cup his cheek as she looked into his eyes. "The past is an open book that grows harder to read as age and experience offer skill and knowledge unknown in those past years. But we have a future, Rhys. A future we will share with your sister, and with our daughter. And we will regret neither of them."

"I know, Nat," he replied, his gaze softening as he looked into her eyes, reaching out to wind his now empty arms around her and draw her close. He had a feeling their time in Avalon was coming to a close, but he was confident they'd return to this place again and again. Avalon was their home now - or at least, another of their homes. A place of rest and peace, a place where they were loved and cared for, a place where they would return again and again when they were needed and when they were not. They would share this place with their children and their children's children and on and on for as long as Avalon existed. They were as much a part of this place now as the Lady herself, but another home was calling and another adventure. It was time go to another home called New York and set the past to rights once and for all.

((And the plot moves on apace! Next stop, New York - enormously flubbly thankipoos to Rhys' player!))