To stop Bellatrix Lepus from nagging at me :) I will start a Mab fic.
Lets see where it takes me. This should be fun. :p
Do not own any of the Merlin characters I might end up using.
English is not my mother language.
Please comment :D
"My lady, there you are!"
Reluctantly she turned to face the priest. "Father, you were looking for me?"
"Yes, yes I was. Your father, the Duke, told me to keep an eye on you whilst he is off to Camelot. I have barely seen you." He was gasping for breath.
The dear old man. "I can take excellent care of myself."
"Everyone knows that. Your father would be most pleased if I could tell him with absolute certainty that you did nothing, nothing… that could taint on your soul, even a bit."
She hardly listened to what he said. The thought of exploring her beloved tower chamber haunted her mind. "I have promised him not to leave the castle. I will not break my word."
"Of course not, of course not. If you should, if you feel the need to confess anything, my dear. Anytime, you know you can always find me…" Attending mass and confession once a week was quite enough, she commented in silent ponder. Her mind had yet again lost track of his words. "You are now at such a crucial age. A tempting age. Innocence has to be preserved. And protected! The devil has many guises. He can be anyone, can lurk anywhere." She was beginning to wonder if he would reformulate everything he had just said only to repeat himself once more. "In a simple gesture. In any object." "He could be you." she teased, being a tad too familiar. But why not? He had watched over her all her life.
"Why yes. No! No, I mean."
"I know what you mean, don't worry about me. I know right from wrong."
His eyes darkened. "No one knows that, my dear."
She smiled sweetly at him.
Despite his stutter he was a very stern man. Her trusted guardian, who liked to pretend that the Duke would not stay long in Camelot. Truth be told, she had not seen her father for over a year. She barely remembered what he looked like. She knew he had a pleasant smile.
Her father had served under the legendary king Arthur in his final battle. Her father had been fourteen, no older than she was now. After Arthur's defeat everyone and anyone had made a claim to the throne. An unending cycle of kings defeating and succeeding each other began. No different from times before Arthur's reign. It was an order much resembling chaos. But the Duke had always managed to survive at court. He served the present king as an advisor. Syrinx had learned to entertained herself gathering stories about Camelot.
She had difficulty keeping herself from running as she mounted the stairs. The highest chamber had been her sanctuary for many years.
As a child of seven she had made her first endeavour to this magical place. It had been rather disappointing. She had found no skulls lying around, no magic potions, not even huge cobwebs. Still she never gave up hope of finding a cursed object hidden there. No curse would harm her, for she was no princess. The room had long since lost its mystery to her. It had grown smaller and more familiar with time. She knew all the treasures that were stored there.
If her father were at the castle, he would forbid her to enter the tower. It is not suitable for a lady to spend all her time in a tower when she could be learning how to sow or make curtsies or whatever decent girls did.
She hurried towards the old reading desk. A book was chained to it. It was written in an unsteady hand, which tried to mimic courtly writing. That much she could tell from looking at the letters. She rather liked the sloppiness of the handwriting. She could not read.
She would not ask the priest to decipher it for her. For she knew these were no Christian stories nor courtly ones. It is the work of the Devil, the priest would say. She mockingly imitated his voice. "People have gone to hell for less than this! Avert your eyes before you are condemned to the eternal fires of Hell. Beware Syrinx. Evil oozes of each page! 't was made of human skin no doubt."
Soft pages of forgotten tales. These were her fantasies. The things she cherished most. The illustrations in the margins of the book showed the most magnificent creatures she had ever seen. All resting. No, dying.
She let her fingers dwell on the delicate paper. The figure of a dark queen. She been intrigued by this figure from the first time she saw her. A shadowy silhouette, fading from the page it seemed. She was the most gracious being Syrinx had ever seen. Her dark eyes, they pierced through her soul. Always fighting.
If there was anything she believed in, it was this figure. Her beauty did not come from innocence. Though the priest said this was the source of true beauty. Her queen was so much stronger than that. 'There is no such thing as innocence' Syrinx had once dared to suggest. No discussion had followed, only indignation. She had spend the rest of the day kneeling in front of the alter, asking forgiveness from God till her knees were red hot and her throat dry of reciting empty prayers. This was the moment it first occurred to her that the priest's God might be unjust.
She was playing chess with a servant, another unladylike habit of hers, when the priest barged in. He had not even waited to be announced.
"I need to talk to you, my lady." He swiftly paced through the great hall towards her.
Curiously she looked up at him. "You may."
"Privately." He said solemnly. She was puzzled by his request. Only her two most faithful servants were in the room.
"Leave us" she said slowly.
His face lit up. "I received news from your father." She felt relieved. She had thought he had come to lecture her once more for not attending church. He was holding a letter in his hands, anxious to present it to her. "You are to marry."
"Marry? Don't be silly."
"Your father has decided so. About time as well." He swallowed nervously. He knew her well enough to know she would not take this very well. "I have told him many times that he should find you a husband. In his absence he has been blind for your growing into womanhood."
"Yóu told him?" She had always known this would be her future. Marriage to form an alliance. Still she felt frustration itching its way to her heart. All details the priest gave evaporated before they reached her mind. She simple could not take it in.
The priest put up his finest sermon voice. "It will be your duty to be an obedient, honourable wife so that God may bless your husband. Tomorrow you will be taken to the monastery of Avalon where you will be prepared for the great event, which will take place in three months time. They will teach you courtly manners there." The only thought occupying her was what would become of her book once she had left the castle. For she would not leave it behind. "Leaveme." She was surprised at the scorn in her voice. And decided she did not dislike it.
Cursed be tradition! She ran up the stairs. If this was the best God could offer her, she would refuse Him as she had already refused this husband in her mind. She escaped to her realm of older, forgotten things. Keeping her book of pagan fairytales pressed close to her chest she could feel the anger of the dark fairy queen rising up in her.
It was time to wake up and fight.