Legend's Fall

by Monica Corwin

  “It’s beautiful,” she told her, turning around.

  “I know,” Jess responded, packing away her gear quickly and carefully.

  “Wait until you get a load of the hunk out there.” Jess fanned herself dramatically.

  “I’ll help you into your costume then I will be on my way.” She packed the rest of her stuff in the bag and walked out to grab the costume. Jess handed her a stack of undergarments and closed the door. Maggie carefully put on the corset, slip, and garter stockings. She almost looked seductive, if it weren’t for the scars marring the perfection of the white lace. She sighed; nothing could be done about it.

  She fastened the last garter as Jess swept in, arms full of gossamer fabric. It was gray, black, and white all at the same time. Jess helped her into the dress and got it fastened up her back. It was a long skirt that sparkled and twinkled like white stars against a deep black night. The back had a small bustle and a train that went out a couple of feet. The bodice was tightly fitted and laced up the back. The corset she wore peeked out the top in an understated seductive brush of lace. Maggie sighed as she ran her fingers across the silky roughness of the fabric, the juxtaposition of the grain interesting against the pads of her fingers. She looked beautiful.

  Jess left and came back with a long cloak of velvet and draped it across her shoulders. She looked like night incarnate. Dark and light melded together perfectly. She exited the bathroom in a trail of fabric, carefully picking it up so as to not step on it. Jess stepped around her and waved as she made her way out herself.

  “Thanks!” Maggie called after her. She walked gently down the stairs as the twilight cast its bright light through the front windows. She looked around for Arthur and when she saw him she gasped. If she were night incarnate he was certainly daylight. He wore a white tuxedo that stood out against his tanned skin. Everything on him was white except the Nasone mask he wore, which was midnight black. He looked devastatingly handsome. He had a sword belt swung low on his hips and a tricorn hat underneath one arm. She smiled at him; she would be the envy of all the women there.

  When he caught a glimpse of her he stood slowly, his eyes roving from her feet to her head. She blushed under his eyes. Hopefully she looked as beautiful to him as he did to her. He moved over to her and grasped her hands, then bent down and brushed his lips across her cheeks.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he whispered against her ear. She blushed deeper and looked down at their joined hands.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

  She grabbed her clutch off the counter. She never left home without a purse; she needed to always have some protection on her in this area. It was black and matched her dress perfectly, although what was inside probably wouldn’t. They exited the shop and while she locked up, a black limo was idling on the curb. Arthur opened the door and helped her inside.

  Together, they clasped hands and Maggie took a deep breath. She had wanted to do this since she had met him, since he had awakened something inside her no one else had. She wanted to tell him her story, what made her Maggie and how she was able to survive all these years. She knew that surviving was not necessarily living.

  “Arthur.” She whispered his name reverently. “I want to share myself with you, as you have with me. Will you listen?”

  “Of course.” He squeezed her hands.

  She tucked herself into the little box inside her heart. Where she could hide and not feel the emotions as she spoke. She didn’t want to cry, she didn’t want pity. She wanted to share this with someone. Someone who knew what it felt like, someone who knew.

  “I don’t know how much you know about the current situation in Iraq and Afghanistan. This war isn’t like the others. The enemies hide in plain sight, they fight using subterfuge and hidden tactics. It’s not like it used to be. I was on my third deployment. I expected it to be uneventful like my first two. I expected maybe to catch some enemy fire but that would be about it. This time was different.

  “We were leading a convoy to pick up some new soldiers that had just arrived. We were driving along a long stretch of road. I remember everything being completely silent. We passed some people with some animals, but we kept our eyes on them and continued on. We saw more people and then a group of children huddled by the road. We slowed down so as to not hit them; when we got to a certain point we saw it too late. The last child we passed had a cell phone in his hand. He used it to blow up the bomb under the road just ahead of us. Then each child along the road did the same thing.” She took a stuttering breath.

  “I learned this afterward. I was in that first vehicle. The bomb completely blew the bottom of the vehicle, killing the driver and gunner almost immediately before flipping over onto the side of the road. I was trapped inside the mass of metal and equipment. One of the men in the last vehicle had stopped them before they joined us and called for help.” She took another breath and looked down at Arthur’s hands.

  “I remember everything going black and the screams of the children they had used to hurt us. They had gotten caught in the wreckage. I remember waking up in the hospital unable to move the bottom half of my body. Most of my team was killed in that attack. All except for me, one of the other drivers, and the men in the last vehicle that saved us.” She swallowed the bile threatening to build and pushed herself back into composure.

  “I am grateful to be alive, don’t get me wrong, but I wish I could have traded. I would have given my life for my soldiers any day. I would have given my life for those children that were so viciously used. It was such pointless deaths. I still cannot understand it.” She whispered the last part, fighting the build of tears.

  Arthur clutched her face gently and forced her to look into his eyes.

  “Then don’t: do not understand it. Find a way to honor those who have fallen and move past it. They would not want you to live your life any less because of their deaths, but I think you have. I think you have turned yourself into a shade because of the guilt you feel for their deaths. You need to honor them by celebrating your life, by living your life. Would you want them wallowing in guilt over your loss?”

  “No, of course not,” she said sharply.

  “Then don’t dishonor their memory by living a half-life. Live your life in remembrance. Take it from someone who knows. It’s the only way.”

  Maggie swallowed and lowered her head. When she lifted it he gently pressed his lips to hers, coaxing forth a small moan, pain or pleasure she wasn’t sure, but she kissed him back with everything she had. He was right. She had to live her life for them. For those who fell— she had to make sure they were remembered and honored. She couldn’t hide behind her pain and scars anymore.

  She pulled away from his lips and rubbed the pad of her thumb across his cheek. He was so ridiculously handsome that she found herself laughing. She laughed at her situation. She laughed for herself and she laughed for the fact that in one short week she had attacked and bedded one of the world’s greatest military leaders, and now she could totally let herself fall in love with him in time.

  She sighed and sat up, arranging her dress. The car came to a stop in front of a huge white mansion and she smiled. It was time for a party.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  Arthur stepped out of the vehicle and reached back to help Maggie out. He tucked her arm under his elbow and then walked them both into the foyer of the mansion. It was vast; columns lined the foyer and led up to a split staircase with a grand balcony and chandelier. Everything was stunning white. Arthur wondered briefly who had to do all that dusting.

  He glanced down at Maggie and noticed her slack jawed appreciation as well. He smiled and then wandered into a large room, a ballroom, where he quickly looked around for Merlyn. He was standing by a table close to the stage where an orchestra played softly; he wore the face of a bored teenaged. Briefly he wondered how long it had taken him to perfect that look as he grew younger. When Merlyn saw them he mov
ed over to them, parting the crowd as he walked. He was dressed dashingly as the green man. He reached out and shook Arthur’s hand.

  “You two look incredible,” he said, surveying them both in turn.

  “Thank you so much,” Maggie told him, tears shining in her eyes. Merlyn ducked his head.

  “Please, come sit. You’re of course at my table.” Merlyn led them to a table close to the middle of the ballroom, right off the dance floor. Arthur surveyed the people milling around. They all were dressed impeccably and it somehow reminded him of court, the way each person or couple jockeyed for position or to speak to certain people. He always hated the political intrigue of his court; it was always there no matter how much he tried to quash it. He rubbed his arm before moving to the table and pulling out a chair for Maggie. He reached down and took her cape off her shoulders and handed it to a passing liveried servant. She patted his hand and he moved to his own chair to her right.

  “This is beautiful,” Maggie said as she looked around the glittering ballroom. Candlelit sconces lined the walls every few feet, deep lush curtains framed floor to ceiling windows in deep black velvet, and the hardwood floor from wall to wall cemented the look. Candelabras lit the tables and cast glittering lights on the partygoers.

  “Would you like to dance, Arthur?” she asked. He looked over at her in surprise then looked out at the couples slowly waltzing.

  “If you can show me how,” he said, rising and taking her hand in his own. She smiled and followed him out to the dance floor. She positioned his hands and showed him how to count the steps. He was a quick study and was leading her in a few short turns.

  “See, easy.”

  “This is easy.” He smiled and bent to kiss her forehead.

  “Thank you for sharing yourself with me in the car,” he whispered. She ducked her chin and nodded, barely.

  “You are a stronger woman for having faced that and survived, don’t forget that.”

  “I know. I never do.”

  Arthur pulled her in close and tucked his head on top of hers. He took a deep breath and savored this moment, her in his arms and the music casting a sensual glow about the room. Music always had a way of turning ordinary things into magic. He loved that it could cast emotion or dash it with the strike of a certain note or the omission of one. When the music stopped he led her back to their table just as Merlyn got to his feet.

  “Show time,” he said, as he buttoned his coat and moved toward the center of the floor. They watched him take the stage and welcome the audience. He somehow gave the aura of a man in his thirties even though Maggie and Arthur could easily see his punk hairstyle and unlined face. Guess that was how he was able to have the house and cars and such. Arthur shrugged; you never knew what that man was capable of.

  They sat and listened to the glittering throng and the fancy soliloquy that Merlyn gave but no one really heard. After Merlyn’s speech dinner was served and Maggie settled in a bit more with each passing minute. He could tell she was uncomfortable around large groups of people but she was masking it very well. He watched her carefully cut her meat and chew her food. She pointed out local celebrities to him throughout the evening as she spotted them. He didn’t care, all he could think about was how beautiful she looked and how much he wanted her naked underneath him. He wondered how long he had to stay there before they could sneak off to an alcove or spare room, surely Merlyn’s huge mansion had a few of those.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lancelot stared into the mirror in horror. He swallowed the bile that was building in the back of his throat. The scene was glittering for goodness sake, and there sat Arthur and a woman in the middle of a room full of people, smiling. He looked happy. Once upon a time Lancelot would have wanted nothing more than for Arthur to be happy, but that was a long time ago.

  Pressure built in his chest until it almost suffocated him, rage and envy clashed together threatening to break the glittering glass before him. He reached out and touched the picture, wishing with all his heart he could be there with Gwen, hold her in his arms as they danced, have her look at him like that just once. When his fingers met the surface it rippled outward like the surface of a pond hit by a fallen leaf. He gently touched it once more and it happened again. He glanced from left to right and stuck his hand through the surface. It was cold and made his entire arm tingle with goose bumps.

  Removing his hand he contemplated this mirror for a moment. Was it a doorway? Had Arthur been able to leave this whole time and kept the ability secret from them? Rage began to build again. Lancelot didn’t know one person could feel so much hatred for another and he knew just where to find a target. He checked his sword belt and stepped through the glass.

  Lancelot woke up sprawled on his back in a dark room. He quickly surveyed his condition; his sword belt was there, and his clothes, he didn’t seem to have grown a limb or lost one. He looked around; the room was richly furnished in dark velvet and candlelight. It was beautiful for being something new and unique to him.

  He slowly sat up and vertigo hit him hard and fast. He crushed his palms to his temples and rocked back and forth until it abated enough for him to stand up. Slowly climbing to his feet, he looked around. Why did the mirror bring him here? Where was here? Was he even in the same place as Arthur?

  He took a deep breath and put his palm on his sword hilt for comfort. He could figure this out. He quickly moved toward the door and out into the hallway. People passed by and nodded, he nodded back—he happened to fit in perfectly. He didn’t look as polished as some of these people but he certainly fit in. He continued looking from hall to hall, room to room, until he found the glittering ball room he saw Arthur in earlier. Everyone was milling about talking, dancing, or just standing around. He quickly scanned the guests but he didn’t see Arthur or the woman he was with. He skirted the edge of the ballroom slowly, eyes open, watching the revelers. He hated every single one them for being free when he was not.

  It hit him like a rock. He was free of that place; he could go anywhere, do anything, right now and never look back. He basked in those thoughts for a moment before he remembered Gwen’s smile. No, he couldn’t leave her there. Even if he had to watch her be with someone else, be with Arthur even, he would never be able to leave her. He tucked the memory of the last time she truly smiled for him into his heart and kept searching.

  Finally, he heard what he was waiting for. A sound he had not heard in person in longer than he could remember, followed by a feminine giggle. Blood surged through his veins; adrenaline began to pump through his body. He crept slowly toward the door where he heard the laughter and silently turned the knob. He caught a glimpse of Arthur’s neck and back, it was definitely him. He ran his gaze over his body looking for weapons; a sword hung low on his hips. He froze where he was. If Arthur had Excalibur then he had no chance at beating him. It had been so long since he last saw it, he couldn’t be sure.

  He watched the couple carefully. Arthur had the woman pressed into an alcove and they were touching and whispering softly. He was so torn watching them. He longed for that sort of relationship with Gwen and he wanted Arthur to be happy more than anything but he needed answers and it was time to get them.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Arthur smiled; he would never get tired of touching her soft skin. He ran his thumb up the side of her neck and leaned in for a kiss. She sighed into his mouth and went liquid in his arms.

  Neither of the two particularly enjoyed being in large crowds very long, so they snuck off for some air. Arthur was having fun spending time with her, even with the nagging sensation in the back of his mind. He had no idea how long he was going to be with her but he wanted to make every second count. Otherwise, what was the point? She laid her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his body. They stayed that way, rocking gently to the music leaking in from the ballroom.

  Arthur saw something out of the corner of his eye. He pushed Maggie to the side and out of his way just before a man
came barreling into his back. He was thrown forward into the turn of the wall, hitting his head against the plaster. His vision went blurry before he realized the man had rolled him over and was now holding a knife to his throat.

  His vision cleared quickly and he looked up into a face he had once loved and now hated above all others.

  “Good evening Lance, fancy seeing you here,” Arthur said calmly, coolly.

  He heard the soft rustle of Maggie’s gown to his left. He had to keep Lance distracted enough so she could get out of the room. Shouldn’t be too hard, as he knew exactly which old wounds festered.

  “Good evening! That’s all you have to say to me?” Lance bellowed in his face, spit flying everywhere. He pressed the edge of the knife to his throat harder. Arthur kept calm, moving his hands up in the classic surrender position.

  “Well, I could ask you how you are but under the circumstances it seemed like an idiotic question.”

  “I want answers.” Lance leaned in close to his face, almost as if sharing a secret. “What is this place?”

  Arthur could easily keep him talking; he saw the shimmer of glittering satin off to his left behind Lancelot. In his rage he had completely forgotten she was even in the room. So unlike him, Lance was losing his touch after all these years.

  “This is the real world, Lance, 1500 years after ours existed.”

  Lance blinked at him for a moment and exhaled in a rush.

  “How long have you been able to leave Avalon?”

  “Honestly I don’t know. It’s never my decision. I am always summoned and sucked into the mirror against my will. I can’t lie and say I don’t look forward to it but it usually ends up with someone dying or me getting pretty close. But, by your presence here I can say that the portal stays open while I am through it. I wish I had known that sooner.”