tKatS, last chunk

[maderr]

"I do not like those two men at all, my lord." Victor rubbed at his cheek, which was covered in a livid black and purple bruise. "They fight dirty."

Trey laughed softly and motioned his squire closer, "Perhaps you should have held your tongue, lad." He pushed Victor's hands away and held him still while he examined the bruise.

"They were slandering my Lady!" Victor said indignantly.

Laughing harder, Trey pointed toward a leather satchel on the floor near his wardrobe. "Fetch my bag, Brave Squire."

Muttering, Victor did as he bid.

Rifling through it for a moment, Trey at last pulled out a small, glass container. Uncapping it, he motioned Victor to stand close to him again. "Hold still," he said quietly. Dipping his fingers into a soft, pale yellow cream, he spread it gingerly over the large bruise and carefully rubbed it in. Victor winced at the cold sting but did not move. "There." Trey recapped the container. "Barring your mouth getting you into further trouble, that should speed the healing. You will be back to your usual handsome, finicky self in no time at all."

"I am not finicky. It is not my fault if you are messy."

"And what would you do with your time if I did not give you things to clean and a room to tidy?"

Victor rolled his eyes. "Spend more time either practicing or getting my feathers bitten off by your demon horse."

"Whisper is not a demon."

"Well not to you, oh Lord of the Demon."

Trey gave him a reproving glance, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Now, Victor. This is why the Lord of Farshire hit you."

Victor glared, not needing the reminder. "I suppose I should be grateful he did not do more."

"I am surprised he did not. Perhaps he is not as foolish as I thought." He returned the container to its place, coming up this time with a vial the size of his smallest finger. "But on to business. Know you what this is?"

Victor nodded, expression turning puzzled. "What…?"

Trey raised a finger to his lips, then handed the tiny glass vial to his squire. "We are going to rescue the Lady Beatrice tonight, you and I."

"Rescue her? From what?"

"You will see." Trey curled Victor's fingers around the vial. "Brandon and Frederick have grown used to your visiting her in the evenings for stories and mulled wine. So they will not think twice of it tonight. Slip that into her wine and make sure she is comfortable. Leave her room, then double back and stay there until I arrive."

Horribly confused and nervous, Victor nevertheless obeyed. He slipped the vial into a hidden pocket of his tunic.

"Do you have the two daggers, still?"

"Yes, my lord." Victor looked offended that Trey had to ask.

"Good." Trey stood to leave the room. "Then keep a low profile the rest of the day. Go practice your drills in the yard - if they appear beat a hasty retreat. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

Trey tousled his hair, tugged affectionately at one stray curl, then strode from the room.

He made his way along the castle wall, breathing deeply of the salty air, smelling a storm on the wind. Several minutes later, Beatrice joined him, her long dark red dress and light cloak whipping in the wind. "My Lady, you look as lovely as ever."

Beatrice smiled, despite the exhaustion and pain that were ever present in her face and eyes. She brushed a stray curl from her cheek. "My Lord, you are as stunning as ever. Thank you for agreeing to meet me here. I wish we did not have to come all the way out here to converse." She moved to stand beside him, taking his arm and gazing out at the ocean. "It is beautiful, is it not? The water. Yet I am sick of the sight of it. Is that wrong?" She turned to look at him, tears in her eyes. "I feel so guilty, so awful, to want to leave when my brother's life is hanging by a thread."

"Bea…you have every right - as much right as he - to long for freedom. You are both trapped here. The only difference is that you are aware of it every moment of every day. Your brother, at least, is more or less asleep." Trey told the lie with ease, knowing it would bring her some comfort to think that her brother was not suffering. "You have been stronger than anyone I have ever met. Have faith, soon it will all be over."

Beatrice nodded, gathering herself together. She opened her eyes. "Thank you, Trey. Just having you here has done much to soothe us. Father is finally sleeping at night, and even I am finding it easier to rest."

"That is no doubt because Victor tires you with his endless need for those silly stories."

"You only think they are silly because you do not want to admit you like them," Beatrice tugged playfully at his arm. "I saw it in you even we were children, Trey. You thrive on being a knight, on protecting people. Tell me you do not wish to be a Knight Errant, declaring your love and loyalty to some poor Sage in need of protection."

Trey snorted, "I think not."

Beatrice laughed softly for a moment, the sound of it carried away all too soon by the wind as she once more turned somber. "I am surprised you are alone, after all these years. I thought you would have settled down by now with one beauty or another." She looked at him, "You treat Victor so kindly, despite your attempts to be strict. More like a brother or son than a squire. It seems strange that you do not have a companion." She looked back out at the sea.

Trey started to respond with a flippant remark, but instead shrugged. His eyes flitted for the briefest moment to the rose garden; Beatrice did not notice. "I have had offers, from fathers eager to settle their daughters. Others. But I prefer to be alone, rather than settle for someone when my heart was long ago lost to one I could not have."

"Could not have?" Beatrice's brows went up. "Who in the world could you not have? You were adored by the late king and, from what I hear, fast friends with the new king. You are a Knight Captain known throughout the country and even by some of our neighbors. Who in the world could you not have?" She made him turn to look at her and poked him in the chest. "Every summer and winter we came to visit, and every summer and winter I had to watch two things. One was more people than I could stand chasing after you - and you always oblivious."

"No one was chasing after me," Trey protested. "Unless it was to beat me senseless for causing some offense."

"Men," Beatrice said in exasperation.

"What was the second?"

Beatrice shifted her gaze to the thorny tangle off in the distance, eyes dim. "I visit him every morning, no matter what. I am no fool. My father says we have plenty of time." She turned her tired gaze to Trey. "But the roses are nearly dead, and the thorns begin to die. No life exists anywhere in or near that garden. We have only days, do we not?"

Trey hesitated.

"Do not lie to me!"

"Days only," he conceded reluctantly. "But I tell you there is nothing to fear."

"You cannot know that," Beatrice said tiredly. "You have not been waiting five years for this nightmare to end - one way or the other."

"If I had known, I would have come sooner."

Beatrice's face softened. "I know. I try to be angry that no one came, but the sad truth is that we did our best to ensure no one did. Even now we would have borne our fate in silence, except that in the end we could not bear to just quietly give up." She squared her shoulders and looked him in the face. "But he may not come back, and that is why I tell you what I am about to say. I do not want him to die, without your ever knowing." She faltered, "He asked me to tell you, before he left that night. I knew he was up to something but did nothing!" Beatrice started to cry. "But it was what he wanted - what kind of sister am I? To let my little brother suffer so much?"

"Brothers want nothing more than for their sisters to be safe," Trey said softly, embracing her. "You did what he wanted, so do not worry about it."

Beatrice pulled away. "And now I am going to fulfill his one request."

"Which was?"

"To tell you that he loved you."

Trey drew a sharp breath. "That is impossible."

"Hardly," Beatrice said tartly. "Or did you never notice the way he shadowed you? Probably not, you were so preoccupied with causing trouble or attempting to escape punishment." She gave a half smile at some memory. "It was the strangest thing, the summer he was ten. You had disappeared as you often did, and he ran off to find you. When he came back…he was a different person. Did you know that until that summer, he was only vaguely interested in magic? Whatever happened that day, he was obsessed with becoming a great Sage. Magic became his passion, his life. Only the roses and you could break him away from his studies."

Trey's brow furrowed. "What in the world…?"

Beatrice shook her head, "I know not. He said only that he had gotten lost in that valley, the one always filled with mist."

Trey was silent, unable to wrap his mind around what Beatrice had just told him. All that time…it was incomprehensible. "I will save your brother," he said at last. "And thank you for telling me. I wish I had known sooner."

"What would you have done?" Beatrice asked.

"I guess we will see when I free him," Trey lifted her hand and kissed it softly. "When this is all over, I've a friend I would like you to meet. Morgan is much like Victor, but older and wiser."

Beatrice looked at him suspiciously. "Are you attempting to foist a husband upon me? In the midst of this wretched mess?"

"It is the least I can do," Trey said with a soft smile. "As you have just given me what I thought I could not have."

It was Beatrice's turn to gasp and stare in shock, as Trey turned and began to head back toward the castle and his room. Then she laughed, loudly and in pure delight - the first truly happy sound Trey had heard since his arrival. He smothered a smile, determined to finish things once and for all.

*~*~*~*

The first order of business was the matter of Beatrice's curse. Such a curse could not be destroyed - it could only be completed or endured until it was completed.

Or it could be transferred.

But transferring was painful and tricky - if Frederick sensed his magic was being tampered with, Beatrice could die.

Trey crept soundlessly from his room, making use of the servants' stairs and passages to reach Beatrice's room. Outside, the mist blanketed everything; even the sound of the bell was muffled as it chimed the first hour after midnight. He held his sheathed sword tight against his side so that it did not make a sound as he walked.

He knocked softly on the door of Beatrice's room, whispering to his squire, whom he knew was just on the other side of it. Victor opened the door a crack, then pulled it wide when he saw it was indeed his lord. "Sir Trey…"

"Is she all right?"

Victor worried his bottom lip and nodded. "She is sleeping like the dead, but still breathing."

"Good lad," Trey nodded and locked the door behind him.

"What-what exactly are we doing, my lord?"

Trey did not reply, focused on the task before him. He approached the bed, where Beatrice did indeed sleep like the dead. Slowly, carefully, he undid the top buttons of her sleeping gown. Baring the flesh between throat and breast, Trey hissed as he finally saw the mark of the curse. A fleur-de-lis, dark purple and hot to the touch.

"What is that?" Victor asked softly. The mark looked like some sort of lurid bruise, painful just to look at. He unconsciously touched the faded bruise on his own face, somehow sensing that he was the lucky one.

"Shh," Trey said. He held his hand relaxed just slightly above the mark, closing his eyes a moment and drawing a deep breath in preparation. Never had he done such thing, but instinctively he knew what to do and how. Opening his eyes, he focused his thoughts exclusively on transferring the curse.

He did not hear Victor's gasp from the opposite side of the bed, or the way his squire froze in shock for a moment, before backing away from the silver haze that had formed around Trey, shimmering much like moonlight - much like Trey's eyes.

Crying out in pain, Trey stumbled back and fell to the floor. He clutched his chest, breathing in short, ragged bursts. His chest burned and ached, his entire body felt heavier, more tired. That Beatrice had endured such a burden for years held him in awe; when all was well again he would do all he could to ensure she found her own happy ending.

"Lord Trey, are you all right?" Victor hesitantly touched his shoulder, kneeling beside him, face full of worry.

"I am fine, Victor." Trey removed his hand and held it firmly for a second in comfort. "I was merely overwhelmed for a moment."

"What in the King's name were you doing?"

"Freeing her," Trey said simply. "And now I am charging you with a most important task."

Victor's expression turned grave and he nodded.

"I am off to take care of the mercenaries and rescue Lord Dunstan - " Trey cut Victor off before he could ask the obvious questions. "Later, I will explain it all to you. For now, I want you to remain here and watch over Lady Beatrice. She will not wake before late morning and while she is under the influence of the potion, she is completely defenseless. Should my plans go awry, she will need protection."

Though Victor was clearly dying to ask several questions, he had long ago learned to obey first and ask questions later. Trey wished more of his knights had taken to the lesson as Victor had - they might still be alive.

"Good lad. When she wakes, it will be safe to come and find me." Trey departed without a backward glance.

He did not bother to move quietly as he made his way out of the castle and toward the door to the rose garden. His boots scuffed against stone and grass, the leather of his sword belt creaking, metal jangling. The mist seemed to curl around him, petting and stroking, shimmering every so slightly when it touched him.

The voices echoed in his head, whisperings in the black stone and the silver mist. Voices of those that had chosen to give themselves over to the mist rather than try to live amongst the humans, mere shadows now that no one could hear.

Trey did not want that fate, did not want to become a voice that no one could hear. He did not want to lose himself in the mist, become part of it.

Yet he did not feel complete when it was not present.

He forced his thoughts away as human voices became audible and he could make out shadows by the wooden door.

"Well, well. What have we here?" Brandon said as Trey stepped into view. "Are you having trouble sleeping? Or are you off to visit the statue yet again?"

Trey smirked, "Have you been following me all along?"

"No, we merely guessed." Frederick spoke almost lazily from where he leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. "It is not as though we ever really thought you were simply Montaine's guest. None of us is that foolish."

"Perhaps not that foolish," Trey sneered. "But you are still fools."

"You would do well to watch your words," Brandon said. "If you are here to rescue the fair damsel and her unfortunate family, you would do well to keep in mind that fair damsel dies at the snap of my fingers."

Trey grinned in challenge. "By all means, good sir, snap your fingers."

Brandon narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, but you are unable. Because the moment you do, nothing will keep me from killing you. We appear to be at a stalemate…" Trey sneered at them, and steel hissed against leather as he drew his sword. Around them the mist thickened to a dense fog. The mercenaries lost sight of Trey as he drew back into the folds of the mist.

Brandon drew his sword, cursing softly. "Frederick, kill her. We shall simply--" his words dissolved into a choking sound, then into silence as he was shoved roughly forward - off of Trey's blade.

Frederick chuckled, whispering the words of a spell that offered him some light in the thick grey mist. "I always heard you were noble, Knight Captain. But is it not the way of cowards to stab a man in the back? And to hide in the mist?"

Cold steel pressed Frederick's throat, the tip of a dagger nicking his skin. Trey spoke softly in his ear, "Is it not the way of cowards to curse an old man, an untried Sage and a defenseless woman? Real men do not slink around in the dark and cast forbidden spells to avoid dirtying their hands."

"What are you doing," Frederick taunted. "If not slinking around in the dark?"

Trey laughed, low and cold. "I am no man." The dagger slid from Frederick's throat, leaving a thin line of blood. "Cast your curse, cowardly Sage."

"Do you want the woman to die?" Frederick shivered, despite himself. He spun around, but the strange knight had already vanished back into the mist.

Another of those strange, taunting laughs. "If you cancel the curse, I will let you live."

"You already killed Brandon." Frederick tried not to think about how easily his compatriot had fallen. He had seen his co-captain go against odds that most would deem impossible - yet he had just been killed as though he were an untried private slain by a seasoned soldier.

As if he were nothing.

"So why should I believe you? You will kill me the moment I free her."

"Taking lives is not something I enjoy, though circumstance has made me quite proficient at it." Trey appeared in front of him. "Set her free and I will return the favor."

Frederick drew his long dagger. "Why did you not extend Brandon such mercy?"

Trey vanished again into the mist. "Because he had nothing I wanted, and he dared to harm those under my protection."

Gripping his dagger, Frederick spun in a circle trying to locate the knight. "Perhaps if you ceased playing these foolish games I might consider your request." He licked his dry lips, drawing together in his mind the words of a spell.

He spoke them as Trey appeared again before him - and went as pale as the mist around them when the spell crumbled as though it had never been spoken.

Trey looked only mildly annoyed as he stepped closer, mist rippling around him like fabric. The mist flashed silver as Trey stabbed him, and Frederick collapsed to the damp ground beside his fallen comrade.

Beside them Trey fell to his knees, clutching at his chest, eyes closed tight in pain. He screamed; the sound of it swallowed by the mist that shimmered and then flashed bright around him.

Shakily, he stood, a hand still pressed to his burning chest. "Remind me not to try that one again," he whispered softly to himself. "I may not survive it a second time." Around him the voices bound in stone and mist whispered their assurances. Trey ignored them and retrieved his sword. He cleaned and sheathed it, sparing the dead mercenaries not a single glance as he threw open the door and all but ran down the footpath to the garden.

The garden and all around it was dead. Perhaps the faintest thread of life remained in the trees, but it was not enough to sustain the spell that kept Dunstan safe in stone. The wall of thorns was falling apart and Trey easily made his way through it.

Inside, the statue had lost its timeless luster. The gray marble was fading, showing the age that it had never shown before.

If the original curse lingered, there was not much Trey could do to prevent it from finally taking hold of its victim. He approached the statue, feeling heat where before he had only felt the slightest bit of warmth. Stone turned pliant beneath his touch, gray softening into white skin and fine wool.

Dunstan fell forward as the spell finally died, his shuddering breaths warm against Trey's neck. He was still for a moment, then his fingers gripped the fabric of Trey's old tunic and slowly he lifted his head. Eyes so dark they appeared black gaped at Trey. "Am I free? Are they gone? Is my family safe?" And suddenly he seemed to realize who held him. "Lord Trey… " He shuddered, closing his eyes against the bad memories that assaulted him. "Everything was so strange…like I was here and yet not…I only vaguely felt things. But…I…my last thought was of you…and then I dreamt you were near. It made things easier to bear."

Trey let out a soft sigh of relief. "It would appear the curse has, at the last, failed completely. Welcome back, Dunstan." He pushed the hood from Dunstan's head, hand lingering a moment too long in his night-dark curls.

The smile Dunstan gave him, as he caught Trey's hand and held it fast, was the same he had worn as a statue. "My family is safe?"

"They are safe and sound asleep."

Dunstan shook his head. "You always did prefer solitude."

"A necessity more than a preference."

"Why a necessity?" Dunstan nuzzled into the hand that stroked his cheek.

Trey smiled faintly. "Though I know not how, I think you know."

"You did not want anyone to know you are a Child of the Mist."

"How?" Trey asked.

Dunstan's dark eyes looked into Trey's pale ones. "Because I followed you. At first it was nothing more than the workings of a child's imagination. You looked, to me, like some lost Sorcerer in the mist. It was only later that I realized it was truth and not fancy. As I studied and learned and watched."

"I did not know I had a second shadow," Trey smiled.

"I worked hard to ensure you remained unaware."

"Why?" Trey whispered. "All this time…we both…"

Dunstan laughed and shook his head, "I was scared. What had I to offer a Child of the Mist?"

"My thoughts were similar…" Trey shook his head, bewildered. Then he smiled slowly, voice soft. "Shall I tell you a secret of the Children of the Mist and Moon?"

Dunstan tilted his head into Trey's hand, confused. "Of what secret do you speak?"

"Of when the Children vanished, never to be seen again. It was suspected that many disguised themselves as Sages."

"Yes…" Dunstan said slowly.

Trey laughed, "They did not. For would that not be the first place to look? The Children hid where they were least expected, and where they too could be protected."

Dunstan shook his head, not understanding.

"They became Knights, and lived to protect the Sages - who in turn hid the truth of their Knights Errant from the world, and kept them safe from those Children that had given themselves over to the Mist." Trey pulled him closer, wrapping his free arm around Dunstan's slender waist, and ducked his head to speak to Dunstan alone, his words not reaching the mist that shimmered around them. "I would be your Knight, if you would be my Sage."

Dunstan's arms reached up to twine around his neck, lips brushing whisper-soft over Trey's cheek. "Yes, please. Yes!"

Trey turned his head and caught the lips that had brushed his cheek, tasting warmth and sweetness and the tang of magic. His fingers tangled in dark curls and soft fabric, drawing Dunstan as close as possible, until he knew nothing but the Sage he had always wanted, and the voices in the mist faded.

Comments

[tygati.livejournal.com]

*happy siiiiiiigh* That was so cute...

Gyah!!!!!! *flying tackle glomp*

[skylark97.livejournal.com]

Oh my god, I loved that!!!! And I never would have guessed where it was going from just the first part. (I love that you can and do do that...) I love, love, love how the tale of the Children of the Moon came about and how you started it off as the vaguest of rumors and then added to it bit by bit as we came to realize what and who Trey really was. And the way it ended? *whistles* That was perfect.

Victor was a total sweetie, and I fell in love with him (I fall for all your characters <<33!!) and he was a good foil for Trey, showing Trey's softer side. And I totally have to agree with Bea on her assessment of Trey and Victor's relationship. That was sweet. ^__^ (I love the idea too, of a fussy squire who will one day become a fussy knight. Heehee...:3)

Gyah, just everything about this story I love! *glomps you and twirls you about* (And I like the edits you did in the first part about the curse, made a lot more sense to me this time around...)

Okay, I can die happy now. Thank you! :3

Seriously, I love Trey. I love the way he hid himself and the way you built that up after we'd already gotten to know him as a simple, hard headed knight. And I *adored* the explanation as to why he was a knight and not a sage there at the end. It fit so perfectly, and yet not how I was expecting that tale to go. ^-^

*glomps you some more* This is gonna be one of your stories that I just read over and over and over again and then daydream about. You rock. A lot.

*twirls in uber-happiness* :3 Thank you for totally making my night.

[stardance.livejournal.com]

OMG, that was soooooo sweet <3333 Trey is cool XP and Dunstan is sweet and Victor is cute and that was suuuuuuuuch a good story XD one of those that when I finish it, I go "^________________^" and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And if I didn't have to work I could have read it in one sitting. I love short stories (as a medium). Thank you for writing that <33333

[cradle-of-faith.livejournal.com]

awwww :) such a good read
almost makes me wish I were gay... almost

[melayneseahawk.livejournal.com]

Ah! Fabulous! A wonderful way to start the morning (even if it is almost 11a).

[macteague.livejournal.com]

Lovely story! I especially liked the way you wove in the legends and gradually built up to Trey's heritage. :)

[twilight-angel.livejournal.com]

Marvelous! What a great thing to read first thing in the morning, especially a dreary morning. And Victor is just too cute for words.

[miikarin.livejournal.com]

*dies* Excuse me. I am a sap. That was too perfect. I like Victor and the interactions between him and Trey.

[mailechan.livejournal.com]

I love you! *love, love, love*

I love the story! *love, love, love*

I love your characters! *love, love, love*

I love Bran and Topaz's cameo! *love, love, love*

Enjoyable.

[(Anonymous)]

Nice story, I would not say otherwise.

But for the sake of constructive criticism, I was not too impressed with your main character Trey. He seemed too much a hogwash of personalities, too inconsistent. Not to say a character should be predictable, but nothing of what was shown seemed to connect with the various pictures of Trey we were shown. A brash, bold, and aggressive knight; a smart, controlled, experienced captain; a self-loather hiding from his past (or least around Topaz); a down-to-earth, serious man; a helpless, head-over-heels romantic; talented fighter and mage fully aware of and in touch with his past. Bleh, to me it seemed he varied too much from scene to scene for me to ever form a clear picture of him in my mind. Again, that could just be his personality, if so cool. Fun character none-the-less though, the swirling mist thing was picturesque.

Beatrice was actually my favorite though. She was the most vibrant and alive character and in the wash of deep thinking, slow moving men you prefer she was most refreshing.

Again, good story. I liked the idea of the Black Castle. I do not intend to demean, only assist.

-F.

Re: Enjoyable.

[maderr.livejournal.com]

I guess I do tend toward a certain character type...

Your comments are duly noted. I think perhaps I had trouble balancing out those elements I wanted, which may explain why he seems as he does to you. Thank you for the observations. I don't think I have the stamina to rework this, but I'll keep your comments in mind.

It means a lot you read it. ^_^ And I would never take offense, unless you began to flame. Which isn't like you, unless we're talking in person XP

[nepenth.livejournal.com]

::sighs:: wow. i am glad i waited till i had a quiet moment to sit and enjoy this.

it was lovely. sincerely and wonderfully lovely. all the characters worked and played off one another. it had such a wonderful old world fairytale feel to it (like a good grimm tale). trey was very well written and his interactions with victor were well played, they worked with each other well. victor brings out an almost fatherly/ older brother side of trey that you get this hint that he needs.

::huggles:: love very very much!

[maderr.livejournal.com]

*loves* Your comments always make my day ^_^ Thank you! I'm glad you liked it.