Legend's Fall

by Monica Corwin

  “I need my book and then I’ll be on my way,” Merlyn announced before heading toward the door. Maggie marched across the rubble to the register and handed him a large volume bound in brown leather. Merlyn stared at it like a starving man would stare at a crust of bread.

  “I’ve been searching for centuries,” he whispered. He clutched the book to his chest and headed out without a backward glance. She looked over at him after the bell stopped ringing.

  “Alone at last.”

  ***

  Arthur worked until twilight descended and Maggie came over to turn on the lights. His muscles were stiff and sore. He hadn’t used them so much in a long time. It was a nice feeling.

  She stood by the light switch and stared at him. He had gotten a lot of work done today and he was proud of that. She had so many treasures here, some he even had in his own library. He fleetingly wondered what her favorites were, and then decided to just ask.

  “Of all the books here, which are your favorites?” She looked at him and wrinkled her brow.

  “I could never list them all. Besides, most of my favorite books are upstairs.”

  “Try.” He crossed his arms, intently showing her he wouldn’t give up.

  She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, but he could easily tell he had won. She looked around thoughtfully and treaded over to a shelf nearby. She handed him a book. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen, and then she pulled another Austen, Persuasion.

  “I hated this one! What about it did you like?”

  She smiled, flipped through the pages and handed it back to him. He looked down and read the letter she pointed to:

  I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

  F. W.

  I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.

  “I think it’s one of the most beautiful things ever written,” she said, staring at the book lovingly. He re-read the passage again. It was beautiful; he had to give her that.

  “What else?”

  “Hmm…”

  She wandered around the store again, searching through the shelves.

  “Ah...” She plucked a slim volume from the shelf and handed it to him. He raised an eyebrow at her and she flipped through the pages. She pointed and he read out loud:

  Friendship is constant in all other things

  Save in the office and affairs of love:

  Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues;

  Let every eye negotiate for itself

  And trust no agent.

  “I liked this one,” Arthur said, smiling.

  “Have you seen the movie?” she asked. He shook his head and furrowed his brow. He had read in some books about certain books being made into film. He had never seen a movie in his life, but he wanted to. Maybe she would show him one. He thought about all the books he loved and how wonderful they would be to experience from someone else’s imagination.

  “What are some of your favorite books?” she asked him, smiling, as she took Much Ado About Nothing back from him and placed it on the shelf.

  He smiled when he started thinking about his favorites. He wandered around the store and found the section he was looking for. He reached out and plucked one of the fifty volumes there, flipped through the pages and handed it to her, pointing. She read:

  As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all--the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.

  She smiled, patted the book lovingly and handed it back.

  “I love these books the most, I think,” Arthur said. He turned back to her and she was looking at him oddly.

  “What? You don’t like Harry Potter? Everyone loves Dumbledore, I do not care who you are,” he said firmly.

  “I adore Dumbledore. Have you seen those movies?”

  He shook his head. She stared at him, mouth agape.

  “Where have you been? Under a rock?” she asked, laughing. He chuckled along with her. Close enough.

  “Do you want something to eat?” Maggie asked him. “I was just about to order some pizza.”

  Arthur had never eaten pizza but he wanted to spend more time with Maggie and food was food.

  “Sure. Do you mind if I get cleaned up?”

  “Oh, of course not,” she said leading him up the stairs to the bathroom.

  “You can take a shower if you want.” She gestured at the giant porcelain tub at the far end of the room. Her bathroom looked almost as large as her bedroom.

  “That would be great, I feel bruised and battered.”

  She smiled at him, turned on the water, and then brought him towels.

  “I’ll just order the food.” They looked at each other squeezed into the narrow space between the washer and the sink and she quickly moved past to the door.

  “What do you like on your pizza?” she asked as she gripped the handle to shut the door.

  Arthur blinked for a second. He had no idea what he liked on pizza.

  “Surprise me,” he said, starting to put his hands to the waistband of his pants.

  She nodded and scrambled out of the room at the sight of bare flesh coming into view.

  Arthur dipped his fingers into the spray of the water. Super hot, just how he liked it. He stripped down and climbed in the tub. The water cascaded across his sore muscles and soothed the bruises. He thought about Maggie’s eyes as he soaped up his body, tempted to relieve some of the pressure from being around her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and she smelled amazing. He wanted to touch her badly but he didn’t know what that would do to the whole “staying here” plan. He needed her help and he had to make her want to give it to him.

  He finished quickly—it was too much of a temptation being in there and thinking about her. He climbed out, wrapped the towel around his waist, and exited the bathroom. He walked out into her main loft area. Was it a living room? He didn’t know. She was standing in the kitchen.

  “Do you have...?” He broke off as she spun around and caught a glimpse of him, eyes round and wide.

  “What is it with you and being naked in my place?” she asked, visibly shaking herself. Arthur could tell she was trying not to laugh, or stare. He noticed she cleaned up too. Her hair was neatly braided down her back now and she wore a purple dress and white sweater. She looked soft, warm, and he needed to stop that thought before she realized what he was thinking. He clutched the ends of the towel in his hands together harder, just in case.

  “I just didn’t want to put on those old dusty clothes again. Do you have something else I can borrow?”

  “Oh.” He could see the blush on her neck.

  “Yeah, just a second.” She moved to a box beside her bookcase and removed some sweat pants and a large t-shirt.

  “I think they were my father’s.” She handed them to him and he took them.

&n
bsp; “They should fit.”

  He moved back toward the bathroom and changed quickly. The clothes fit fine. He sat down on the toilet for a moment to get hold of his thoughts. He almost got an erection standing in her kitchen thinking about her braiding her hair. That had to stop or he was going to be uncomfortable the whole time he spent with her. He took a deep breath and left the bathroom; she was still in the kitchen.

  “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

  She was standing in front of the stove stirring a pot, something that smelled amazing. He didn’t know the scent but it smelled good and a tiny bit spicy.

  “I’m making hot chocolate,” she said. “Do you want some?”

  “Yes. Definitely.”

  She laughed. “Your mother never made you hot chocolate before?”

  “No, not that I remember.” He usually tried not to think about his cold ambitious mother. He hardly knew her and when he finally went to court to take his throne, only then did she want to acknowledge him as her own. His foster mother was a plain, round, sweet woman whom he loved dearly, but she never made him hot chocolate either.

  “Well, I like to make it when it starts to get chilly outside. It’s nice to read with. Relaxing.”

  Arthur nodded and watched her mix in some spices. The smell intensified to a sweet, smoky scent. She grabbed some cups from the cabinet above her and filled them. Then she added a few marshmallows and some white fluffy substance. He was not going to ask though; it might be common knowledge. He liked this less fiery, slightly domestic, side of her too. Ever since he had read her that book and helped clean up she had warmed up to him a lot.

  “So have you decided not to hate me?” he asked as he took the cup from her. The glass was hot against his fingertips.

  “I never hated you. I just didn’t trust you. There is a big difference.” She shrugged like he could take it or leave it.

  He nodded and took a sip of the drink. The chocolate coated his tongue and left a bit of chili heat behind. He smiled. It was delicious. He would forever associate this taste with this woman. He had no idea what it was about her that fascinated him so much. She was hard in places and soft in others. She surprised him more than once during the day and she had hair that looked like it would feel like silk.

  He shook himself back to the present. There he went wandering in thought where he shouldn’t again.

  “This is amazing,” he offered.

  “Thanks, it was my mother’s recipe. I add some chili powder to it. Not too much but it makes a world of difference.” She sipped from her own glass. They both looked around the kitchen awkwardly, not sure what to say. He wanted to get to know her more but he didn’t want to make her pull away if he pushed too hard for information. She seemed wary about strangers.

  “Do you want to play a game?” Maggie asked.

  Chapter Eight

  Maggie had no idea what she was thinking when she asked him to stay and eat, to shower in her bathroom, or play a game. She didn’t really like being alone, despite her attitude towards people, and he handled every single one of her books as if they were precious jewels. She had watched him carefully all day. He worked very hard, treated her with respect, and he was amazingly good looking. She could come to like this man, which instantly made him dangerous. That saying where children need to make their own mistakes, well, Maggie learned from her mother’s a long time ago about men. She didn’t want to end up even more of a shell of herself than she already was.

  Maggie sat her cup of cocoa down on the counter and grabbed her favorite well-used board game from above the refrigerator. She picked her cup up again with her free hand and moved into the dining room area. Arthur trailed behind her. It was so weird having someone else in her place. Well, she would feed him some food, entertain him a bit, and see what happened. He’d been nothing but nice since their misunderstanding this morning and she liked his slightly accented voice. It was almost entrancing.

  They settled down at the table and she set up the game.

  “How do you play?” Arthur asked her.

  “You do not know how to play Monopoly?” she asked incredulously, cupping the game pieces in her palm. She grabbed the battle ship for herself and held out her hand.

  “Pick one.” He grabbed the car, looked at it sideways, and smiled. Maggie quickly explained the rules and the money and they began to play.

  He laughed every time he rolled the dice, made a move, went to jail, and took Maggie’s money.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Maggie asked when they paused to eat dinner.

  “It’s a fun game.”

  Maggie had never seen anyone eat so much food in her life. He ate almost the entire pizza. Everything but the two pieces she ate herself. Apparently he had never had bacon and garlic pizza before. She showed him how amazing it was with ranch dressing and then he was off. Just watching him eat could be a spectator sport. He made food seem practically sensual. He ate it with relish and enjoyed every second of it. She wished she could take that much enjoyment out of something so simple.

  “Wanna play some more?” she asked when he leaned back in his chair, a content look on his face.

  “Sure!”

  “Let me get us a beer.” Maggie went and grabbed a six pack and brought it to the table. It was not the best beer in the world but it would do. She hadn’t found a great international beer store in the area yet. They resumed play and sipped on the beer. After two hours they stopped. Arthur had beaten her soundly. Ok, he beat her by a lot. She might never play this game again.

  “I call it beginners luck,” she said with a hiccup.

  They finished off the six pack and a couple of mixed drinks Maggie made for them. She was drunk and she couldn’t tell if he was. Her internal radar was telling her she was stupid for getting drunk with a stranger, but for some reason, in her soft inebriated state she felt like she had known this man forever.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” Maggie asked him abruptly.

  “Um, no,” he answered, blushing.

  “Are you married?” she prodded further.

  “Um…no.”

  “Are you lying? Men lie about these things.”

  “I am not lying. She cheated on me with my best friend,” he said.

  “Oh, I am so sorry. That’s horrible. To lose your best friend and your wife at the same time. Had to be hard. Oh yeah, I remember the stories. Tough break.”

  He sighed. “It almost killed me.”

  She looked at him and decided she didn’t like for him to look sad. She got up from the chair and moved around the table to face him. He looked up at her and they locked eyes. Maggie reached out and ran her hand along his cheek.

  “I am sorry. Truly,” she said and meant it. No one should have to go through something like that.

  She slowly got down onto the floor and leaned back on her hands and looked up at him. He stared down at her, his eyes serious and grave.

  “You wanna hear a joke?” she asked, smiling wide.

  “Sure.”

  “Why did the whale cross the ocean?” She leaned forward waiting for his response.

  “I do not know, why?”

  “To get to the other tide.” She leaned back and laughed hard.She laughed through the whole punch line, but it was still funny. She lay back on the linoleum and crossed her hands across her belly.

  “You know, Arthur. I think I like you.”

  “I like you too, Maggie.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are unlike anyone I have ever met.” Maggie gave him bonus points because he sounded sincere. She could feel her eyes drifting shut and she decided she would relax here for a minute before she hit the hay.

  Chapter Nine

  “Maggie?”

  “Maggie?” She had passed out on her dining room floor. Arthur hadn’t thought she had drunk that much and he also had no idea what to do with her. He couldn’t leave her there or she wouldn’t be able to move tomorrow. He also didn’t want to wake her and deal with
another beating. He stared down at her relaxed features. She looked so young; why was she so jaded?

  Arthur sighed and stood up, stretching his muscles. The beer and pizza had tasted amazing. If it wasn’t for the stress of trying to figure out what he was doing here, he might say for the first time in a while that he was content. He liked spending time with Maggie, even in one odd day, he realized that. She was a fireball; she had so much emotion roiling inside of her. It was addictive just to be near her.

  He squatted down next to her and gently scooped her up into his arms. She stirred slightly and he froze for a moment. She moved around a bit and snuggled her face into his chest. The ache of longing almost dropped him. He missed the scent of a woman, the soft skin, the silky hair, and the way they curl up against your body when they sleep. Not that Gwen ever did much of that.

  He quickly shut thoughts of Gwen out and softly tread toward Maggie’s bed. She snuggled her head against his chest while he pulled the covers back with his hand. A small smile slipped at the corner of his mouth as he laid her down and covered her up. Almost instantly she rolled around and slipped her hand under her pillow. She looked so peaceful; you would never believe this woman could take your head off if you riled her up.

  He watched her for a moment and decided he was being creepy and moved away. Now, what to do? He wasn’t tired. He wandered around her room for a moment and remembered all the work that still needed to be done in the shop. There would be no harm in heading down. He loved books more than anything—except his horse and sword, of course.

  He slipped out the door and down the stairs quietly. He flipped on the lights and stared at the massive mess. Crazy how much mess one person can make. He shook his head and got to work moving all the books and furniture from the back area. It looked like it needed paint. He had never painted anything. Shrugging his shoulders he approached the white tarp holding the painting supplies. Staring into the night sky and pointing out constellations and names of planets might be easier than this.