by Baird Crevan
A/N: As promised, the beginning of my new material. In the "Mirror" episode (2.3), Demona and Puck have clearly met before. Most assume it was merely when Owen/Puck introduced David to Demona that started their ill-fated partnership. But how did Owen gain the trust of Demona in the first place?
Previously on Gargoyles: (uhh, this is me paraphrasing. I'll have to look it up and make sure those are the real quotes...)
The Archmage: But that's my former pupil! What is she doing here?
Puck: How quaint. Even after all these centuries you're still carrying a torch.
Demona: I know you, you are the tricky one.
Demona: You serve the human, now you serve me.
1995 A.D. Eyrie Building
Owen walked down the hallway of the castle. His blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, but he did not turn as he reached the door at the end of the hallway. The butler opened the dark door a crack, but did a full sweep of the area around him, just to double check.
Nothing. Or so he thought.
Just as Owen entered the door, David Xanatos narrowed his eyes from around the corner. He left, a look of suspicion on his face.
Owen walked into the room. The chair spun around to reveal Demona, her face as deadpan as Owen's jokes. "Were you followed?" She inquired.
"Perhaps. I cannot be sure," He replied, removing his glasses from his face to clean them with a cloth.
Demona frowned. "The human body is so limiting. I'll never understand why you chose it."
Owen's face remained impassive as he just stared at Demona. "I'm mildly surprised that you figured it out so quickly."
Demona smirked. "You did have me fooled, Puck. But there was no reason that you, a lowly assistant should know of my existence. Naturally, when I received your invitation, I was very curious to find out. Now I find you here... serving the human?"
Owen smiled a rare smile. "You could call it that."
Demona nodded indifferently. "How long until the castle is in place?"
"It should be completed shortly. When it is completed, and the gargoyles restored would you like to see-"
"No," Demona interrupted, rudely. Owen blanched slightly at the outburst, but noted that Demona wasn't looking at him. "I'll see them again...soon enough."
Owen nodded. "Very well. I do wonder then why you called me here alone from Mr. Xanatos..."
Demona curved her lips into a smile as she stood and walked towards Owen. "I had wondered," she cooed as she approached him. He visibly tensed, obviously not trusting her at all. "...if you would consider joining me, rather than that human. Your talents will be at such a waste in that human guise..."
Owen stood still as she lightly put her clawed finger on the lapel of his suit, running it along up towards his neck. She smiled, but her eyes held a glint in them no mortal should ignore. "I appreciate the offer, but my services lie with Mr. Xanatos" he replied, a frown forming on his face.
"There's no convincing you?" She said as her hand curled around his shoulder and started to clamp down. Owen's stare intensified as she did so. Only when her claws had pierced flesh did he wince, but he made no effort to push her hand away. Still, she dug into his shoulder more as her smile began to fade.
"Please let go of me," He said quietly, holding a little bit of emotion of pleading. Still his face remained impassive.
Demona started to frown. She clenched harder and Owen started to dip his shoulder down. The gargoyle's frown deepened as she sent Owen to his knees. He started to hiss at the pain, but he did not struggle away from her. Some blood began to seep into the suit and then onto her fingers. Only then did she retract her hand, making sure to wipe her clawed hand on a part of Owen's unbloodied suit. The human remained on the floor, his breathing slightly labored as his gaze was on the stone floor.
"A pity..." She said. "Perhaps I will have to try other means of persuasion," She said as she walked back towards the computer. Owen began to gather himself up, pulling out the cloth he had used to clean his glasses to help stop the bleeding in his shoulder.
"Please don't. It wouldn't be worth the trouble," He replied rather calmly, considering he had just been attacked by a crazed immortal gargoyle.
She sighed as she went back to the computer. Owen silently left, massaging his shoulder as he exited.
Scotland, 970 AD (Five years before "Vows")
It was nighttime at castle Wyvern. Gargoyles were circling overhead as they went about their scouting around the area.
Goliath was sitting atop of the parapet, looking out at the graceful gliding of his clan mates. He looks over at his clan leader, a slightly more toned and younger looking Hudson (with both eyes.)
"Where's the red-haired lass?"
Goliath shrugged. "I suppose she is off doing errands again for the Archmage."
The older warrior eyes narrowed. "And how often does she do these 'errands?'"
Goliath gave a blank look. "I really don't pay it any mind."
"Aye. See that you start. The Archmage may do well for the humans, but magic isn't meant for we gargoyles. We best just make sure he doesn't try to influence her to do anything else..."
Goliath nodded fervently. "I'll make sure to pass on your concerns."
A slightly younger Demona, at this time called "Angel" (for angel of the night) was carrying a large book into one of the tower's rooms. This particular room was dank and mysterious, increased by the magical residue of countless spells still lingering on the walls. The Archmage was in the corner, gathering supplies to make some kind of potion or other, but as he turns around, he nearly walked into the female gargoyle. "Watch where you are going!" He cried as the contents of his vile were nearly spilled.
She put the book down and looked back at him slightly sheepish.
The Archmage glared a little longer before going over to a table to continue to make the potion. He began to talk as he worked, "I still haven't heard why you want to study magic. Isn't it forbidden under some gargoyle code or something?"
She looked up and pursed her lips in slight anger. "It is only because the elders are afraid of it. Magic itself is not evil nor dangerous."
"That is where you are wrong." She looked at him with anger flashing in her eyes, but she held her tongue. "Magic is dangerous. But you talk like a true mage when you speak of magic being neutral. It's how you use it that makes it for good or evil." She opened the book in front of her and went to studying.
As she was doing so, she heard hurried footsteps coming up the corridor. In came one of the other castle mages, carrying a scroll. As he did so, she quietly hid behind the door so that he could not see her.
"Archmage! Archmage, the scroll has finally come in!"
The Archmage whipped around and forgot what he was doing, smiling devilishly as he took the scroll from the mage. "Excellent," He said as he carefully placed it on the table. The young mage looked at him expectantly. The Archmage looked up and waved him off, "You may go."
"Archmage, don't you want me to fetch your apprentice to help you with the spell? I know it is most likely not beyond your ability to do so but-"
"No. It is within my ability to do so alone. But I still need a second pair of eyes to check the incantation... Do not get my apprentice. I will figure something out."
The young mage blanched, but remained in the room. "A-are you sure?"
"YES! Leave, you imbecile, I am completely sure." The young mage scurried out, an upset look on his face.
As he left, 'Angel' closed the large wooden door as she cocked her head to one side. "What do you have there, master?" This last word dripped out her mouth with sarcasm, but the Archmage was not paying attention. He held a smile on his face as he hungrily opened the scroll on a table. He scanned over the ancient Latin scrawled on the page, moving his fingers over the aged parchment.
She studied the scroll with indifference as she walked over, her tail swishing in curiosity. "It's not that old. That type of parchment is Roman; barely half a millenia old."
His greedy face faded to a scowl as he looked up exasperatedly at his student. He slammed his finger down on the parchment, pointing to the upper left hand corner. "Yes. This particular parchment is a few centuries old. But it has been previously recorded on Egyptian papyrus and before that the language of the ancients on cave walls." She glanced at where he had pointed and shrugged slightly.
The Archmage removed his finger and brought it to his beard, contemplating his student. He grabbed her wrist and jerked her towards him. Her eyes flashed red for a moment in anger, before she remembered how cruel this particular human was, so she merely frowned. He indicated the scroll saying, "Tell me what you see."
A/N: Ooo, what a weird place to stop for a chapter! Next one will be up shortly. Please, let's here what you have to say!