Eärendil Ablach's Story

Grey, mid-morning, light crept through the curtains on the small window in the room. The pristine hardwood floor reflected what light there was and added to the ambient gloom. Occasional breaks in the cloud cover threw a shaft of sunlight through the small space where the curtains met. That sunlight flashed off steel as it reached the opposite wall. There, racked neatly and obviously well cared for, a set of various bladed weapons hung, ornamental for the most part. On the perpendicular wall was a pocked and sliced target that would typically be found on a shooting range. Opposite the target was the only furniture that gave away this as a bedroom, a double bed, with a small dresser at it’s foot. On the bed lay Arin. He watched the very brief lances of sunlight through squinted eyes. Last night the club was fairly busy. Thursday nights are ladies nights. The club was trying to get an early start on the weekend. It seemed to work, as there were quite a few women around. The only issue Arin had with it was the extra late hours. He always stayed well past closing to ensure all the customers had safe means home and on ladies night there were more patrons to assist.

Arin rubbed his face with his hands, trying to convince himself it was time to get moving. He rolled over and looked at his watch on the bed post. Thirteen minutes past ten in the morning. He had already lazed in bed for an extra thirteen minutes. He flung the blankets off his body and grabbed a pair of tight shorts. Sitting on the edge of the bed he pulled them on then started his morning warm up. Some stretching first to loosen up his legs, arms and core. Then he moved to resistance strength training. Push ups, pull ups, sit ups and more. He knew he could get a fancier work out at a gym, but training with his own body as resistance just seemed more comfortable to him.

After working up a good sweat he moved to the sword rack. He didn’t entirely understand why he obsessed so much about this, but he just couldn’t seem to start his day without some sword work. His weapon rack was always a source of conversation. Any woman he brought home was either amused, impressed or frightened by the thought he owned, and knew how to use, multiple bladed weapons. A few times they left shortly after seeing it. He didn’t mind. He knew that if swords were frightening them off then they weren’t the one he was looking for.

Today he decided to work on his precision. He selected a one handed rapier from the rack and moved in front of the target. He began going through the various parries and counter attacks that the rapier form allowed. Always concentrating on hitting within an inch of the same target. Precision control of a weapon could make the difference between a long, bloody, fight or a short, quick, strike.

By eleven thirty he was in the shower. A hot, relaxing scrub after a workout meant he knew he was ready to face the world for another day. Drying off he checked the weather on his phone. The rain had stopped and it was supposed to be mostly cloudy and cool the rest of the day. Good riding weather. He dressed in jeans and tee shirt, grabbed his leathers and helmet and moved toward the door.

He had no specific plans today other than cruising around on his bike a bit. Being a Friday night he knew the club would be quite full. The university crowd would be coming in to drown another week of lectures. Students made the bulk of the Galaxy’s crowd during the weekend. Most of the club kids made it there to escape the apparent confines of campus and the quiet university pub. Lights, music, lots of bodies in a small place and alcohol was just what the professors ordered it seemed, given the way these students threw themselves into the ambiance.

Still, Arin always enjoyed the busy nights the most. He met more new people on those nights. Sooner or later she would walk into his club. He just felt that it was the right place to be. Vivienne hadn’t moved from this part of the city in almost a year. She had Kat really stepping up her background searches. Arin stopped telling Viv about all the women that came into the club as it just seemed to upset her but he knew that she was more anxious than ever.

A slight rumble of his stomach reminded Arin that he needed to stop for lunch before he did anything else. He headed downstairs and decided to cut through the shop to see what was going on before finding some food.

“NO NO NO! Oh come on Lex, my grandma could kill a mountain troll better than that!” An angry voice rang out throughout The Round Tablet electronics shop. It was a slow day at the shop, but the few customers there were regulars, and didn’t seem surprised by the outburst followed by furious clicking coming from behind the counter. “GAH! No just use the flame sword Kyle, your stupid cleric staff doesn’t work for combat!” There was more clicking before an evil computerized laugh ran out from the speakers.

“Fucking noobs!” Kat growled as she yanked off her head set. How the hell was she supposed to get the scroll of Phoebus when her clansmen were complete gameplay greenhorns?! Granted this was her eighth game account, but still, gotta keep things fresh. “Dame Troll was only a level seven.” She continued to gripe, finally eliciting the attention of her boss (or legal guardian depending on who was asking for the paperwork) Vivienne, who was sipping coffee rather sedately as she flipped through a pretty ancient looking book. “Has your program yielded any results yet?” Her amber eyes flicking up to Kat’s.

“Nah, even by narrowing the search down to Manhattan residents under thirty, there’s thousands of profiles to process here and cross check with your data sheets. Even for me, that’s gonna take a few days. “Kat replied, almost sounding put out by the very idea. “Can’t your magic rock thing tell us anything else?”

“Perhaps.” Vivienne began vaguely. “It has been more active lately, so he must be close.”

“Yeah well, whenever the stupid thing decides to tell us something useful, let me know so I can narrow the search parameters. I’ve got a few leads on the knights I might check up on later though.” Kat replied looking over the other open computer with finished profile analysis.

“Hey Arin! Meet any hot chicks at work last night?!” Kat call cheekily as she saw her pseudo foster brother came down from his apartment on high.

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Twenty minutes went by, and none of Arey’s lab group had shown. That didn’t bode well for lecture either, considering that this was a Friday. That simply meant she’d be on her own when completing the homework this week, and she’d likely be hit up for notes from her absentee partners, which was just lovely thought. She was about ready to pack it up and cut her losses when a man around her own age with dark neatly kept hair and striking hazel eyes sat down abruptly at her table. It would be impossible to not notice how attractive he was, and Arey was honest enough with herself to admit she had a bit of a thing for boys with dark sexy eyes.

“Your lab partners bail on you too?” He asked with a sheepish grin. “I’m Matt by the way. I recognized you from my bio lecture with professor Keens.” He explained almost shyly, which made Arey feel compelled to talk to him.

“Ah yes, the hazards of Friday classes I suppose. I’m Arey.” She replied with a small smile. Matt seemed to grow more bold after that, grinning himself and pulling out his notebook. “British huh? I didn’t see that one coming. Mind if we go over notes together? I suck at biology.”

Arey agreed, and so they spent the next half hour going over the notes from last class before heading off to lecture together, which strictly speaking was about as boring as usual. After class they walked out together before exchanging e-mails so that they could set up a regular study time.

“Hey, if you’re not doing anything tonight, some of my buddies and I were gonna head to this cool bar right off campus called Galaxy if you wanna join.” Matt said hopefully.

“I’m already going out with some friends tonight,” Arey began. “But I suppose I could ask them if they’d like to go there tonight.” She finished as his crestfallen expression. Matt seemed like a nice guy. He was smart, funny, and overall just came off as a sweetheart, but there was sometime a little off about him that Arey couldn’t quite put her figure on. He seemed familiar, but Arey was sure she’d never seen him before.

“Well hey, no pressure. Just know you’ll be breaking my heart if you don’t show.” He said with a wink before heading off with a wave. Once he was farther away, Matt pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial option that read simply “professor”.

“Hey, found another one on your list. There should be about three of them showing up at the bar tonight. Do you need me there, or do you have it covered?” Matt asked, shy and sweet replaced with boredom in his voice.

“No, if one of them is Arthur, there’s no need for you to expose yourself further. I’ll have someone else observing tonight.” The professor replied before hanging up.

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In the end, it didn’t really matter whether or not Arey wanted to meet up with Matt or not, because Amanda had already decided their little group was going to Galaxy. Apparently it was the place for Ambrose students to be seen this semester, and Amanda wouldn’t hear of going anywhere else. Arey had decided to let her hair down tonight, both literally and figuratively, in a loose curly fashion. She also put on her favorite pair of black leather pants that never failed to make her feel sexy, and show off her bum. She finished the look with a shiny silver sleeveless top that hugged her curves and complemented the smoky silver eye shadow she wore to bring out her eyes. During soccer season, she usually was so busy with training, that she never really got a chance to go out like this, and really really enjoyed just cutting loose and primping like a girl for once.

Galaxy was already crowded when they arrived, which was good for dancing, and not so good for meeting up with people. Arey figured that if Matt was really so keen on seeing her, he’d turn up eventually, but for now, she wanted to dance. The set list was great, and so far, Arey was having a good time. Eventually, the girls decided it was time to get some drinks, and due to an unfortunate game call nose goes (which Arey had never bloody well heard of in her entire life), it was decided that Arey would go to the bar to order. Walking up to the nearest bartended, who happened to be a boy with beautiful bourbon colored eyes that seemed out of place with the brow piercing and purple tipped hair, before [placing in the order.

“Hey mate, can I get three rum and cokes, a white Russian, and a pint of whatever local spice ale you’ve got on tap.” Arey said, flashing her fake I.D. that proclaimed her name to be “Bonnie Scott” under her picture.

Deirdre finished her bagel. She ignored the book of poetry, apprehensive about opening it again and reading more of that poem. As much as she wanted to pass it off as hunger something about that whole 'dream' she had left her unsettled. The memory unsettled her like she was having deja vu from someone else's life. She focused instead on other textbooks, lesson notes.

She yawned. The freedom was nice but this whole school thing was dull.

Her phone beeped. Deirdre checked the text message. It was one of her roommates, Heather.

Going partying tonight? You in?

She smirked.

You have to ask? Hitting classes now, be back around 5. Grab some chinese and then get ready?

She waited for the response and began to plan her outfit in her head. She didn’t own much in the way of ‘club’ clothes but she didn’t care. Deirdre liked to dance and liked the crowd, the feeling of being lost in the push of people.

Sounds good to me. Rebel?

Deirdre stood and grabbed her coat.

Nah we were just there and I don't like the sticky floor. Galaxy?

They hadn't tried that club out yet but she heard the music was great and the bartenders were hot. She hit send and gathered her books into her bag. She headed for her classes, thoughts of dancing, the thrum of the bass and the crowd filling her head.

Deirdre was barely able to concentrate as she sat through lecture after lecture, taking notes and highlighting things. She retained none of it but didn’t matter she would just read it again later.

In her last class she sat, her phone out and was busy flicking through media sites when she overheard three girls in the seats behind her.

“Did you hear about the girl they found? Her throat was like slit or something.”

"I heard the guy took her eyes out and you know...."

Deirdre frowned she hadn't looked at the news yet. In fact she rarely did preferring fashion sites or social media. Sure there would things about some girl being killed but she had looked at that. Who wanted to be reminded the world was a messed up place? She had her own life to take advantage of there was no time worrying about what happened to some random stranger.

“Eww...some real sickos out there. Let me guess boyfriend did it when he caught her cheating.”

Deirdre felt wave of guilt come over her. She shook it off, confused at to what caused it. She had never kissed a boy let alone had a boyfriend. She certainly had never cheated on anyone.

“There is nothing about a suspect but apparently she had been out with friends before they found her.”

“So like every other girl over seventeen in this city. Nothing new, they will catch the guy and he will turn out to be some loner who wanted a girlfriend and she turned him down.”

Deirdre frowned. Her phone buzzed with a text. She thought it would be Heather again but instead sighed.

Hi sweetie! How’s our princess? Just wanted to say hello and to find out how you were doing.

Deirdre hadn't seen the news but clearly her mom had. She heard about the girl, about the murder and next would come the text about being safe, studying instead of going out, a good girl makes sure to keep her grades up. Deirdre did not want to try and spend time assuring her mother that she was safe. Avoidance was for the best.

Hi mom, in class. Can’t talk.

Deirdre waited for it.

Oh sorry honey! Just wanted to say hello and remind you to study hard, and stay safe. Daddy says hi to his little girl. Glad you aren’t doing like other kids and ditching classes to party. You are our princess. Love you!

She almost gagged. They would never stop, she knew it. They wanted her back in ballet, back under the careful watch of teachers and choreographers. Grueling hours that didn’t allow for her to have a life or friends. They didn't want her safe, they wanted her under twenty four hour watch. They wanted her in class and on stage. She wanted to breathe and to have experiences. She wanted to make friends and spend time having fun. Deirdre loved performing, hell she loved practicing but she also wanted her life to be more than just that.

Love you too.

She shoved her phone into her pocket and settled in as the professor arrived.

By 4:20 she was ready to go home. She hadn’t run into Tim again, despite detouring through the student union on her way to her classes. Hat on her head and coat done up, Deirdre slung her messenger bag over her body and headed out onto the campus. It had cooled down even more though the rain stayed away. Her finger hit a button on her phone and music began playing in her ears. It drowned out the other sounds.

"cause it was trapped
Trapped between two lungs
It was trapped between two lungs
It was trapped between two lungs

And my running feet could fly
Each breath screaming: "We are all too young to die!"

Between two lungs it was released
The breath that passed from you to me
It flew between us as we slept
That slipped from your mouth into mine
It crept between two lungs”

She hummed along as she headed home. Ti was all Deirdre could do not to dance down the stree. She was young and had the whole night in front of her. Friends, dancing and fun. She smiled.

Heather was waiting for her, containers of rice and stir fry on the small table. “No one else is home yet.”

The blonde handed Deirdre the bag with the egg rolls. She dropped her bag by the couch and undid her coat as she took the greasy bag.

“All good, not in a rush anyway right?”

She sat cross legged on the couch opposite Heather. Deirdre bit into the egg roll. “Mmm, thank you for grabbing dinner.”

Heather nodded a spoonful of rice on its way to her mouth. They ate in silence for a time.

“Did you see the news?” Deirdre put a container down, her stomach full. Heather nodded, “That girl? Yeah I saw. That is why we go out in pairs.”

Deirdre nodded, “Guess you gotta be careful. She was blonde like you.” She smirked a little at her roommate.

Heather laughed, “Right cause us blonde girls we get all the attention from the crazies.”

By 7:00 everyone was home though only Heather and Deirdre were up for a night out. They showered and dressed. Deirdre opted for tight black jeans and a loose red shirt over a lacy black tank top. Flats completed her outfit while Heather had chosen a tight skirt and low cut tank top.

"It's the blonde hair that gets the attention. Gotcha." Deirdre teased as she looked her roommate over.

By 9:30 they were making their way to the subway. Deirdre couldn’t wait to get there.

They walked up to the club, the line was stretched out, though not as long as at other clubs. Heather dragged Deirdre to the front of the line. The bouncer looked both girls over and smiling let them in.

The sound hit them hard as soon as they opened the door. Deirdre felt her heart pound with excitement, matching the vibrating of her ribs from the beat. They checked their coats and headed into the crowd. As promised the music was good and the place was packed. There seemed to be more women than men but Deirdre didn't care. She was here to dance. Heather would be disappointed but she came for different reasons.

It didn't take long for the girls to get separated. It happened all the time in the clubs though at the end of the night they always met up, even when Heather was not going home.

Deirdre made her way onto the dance floor and was instantly taken into her dancing. She moved with the music the way only a natural dancer did. Everyone around her was moving, some with partners and some on their own like her. Song after song Deirdre danced. About the fourth song in she felt an arm circle her waist and a body moved against her. Deirdre looked over her shoulder at the person. The man was good looking though he had obviously been drinking.

She continued dancing, not pulling away from him right away. A little dancing isn't a big deal. The song came to an end and as the next one began the man spread his fingers wide across her stomach. He pulled her hard against him. Deirdre frowned and stopped dancing.

“Let’s move off the floor.”

His voice was in her ear and as he leaned down to talk to her he left behind bit of spittle. She turned in his arm and he smiled at her.

Deirdre shook her head and put her hands up defensively.

“You, me and a dark corner. I’ll buy you a drink even.” He leaned down to kiss her.

Deirdre stepped backwards, bumping into a girl who was dancing. “Sorry”

Her attention was back on the man as he took a step towards her. He was smiling as if it was a game.

“Gotta go.” Deirdre gestured with her thumb towards the exit and then turning made a beeline into the thick of the crowd. She was glad there were so many people. There were faces she recognized from school, from various classes but no one she knew really well.

She began to skirt the edge of the dance floor looking for a place to dance where her previous accouster would not find her. Given his state it wouldn’t take long for him to forget about her and turn his attention to some other poor girl. She hoped the bouncer threw him out before he got too aggressive.

Deirdre found a spot and began to dance again. A couple of songs later she felt a bit guilty. With the girl in the news and the way the drunk man had acted she knew she should tell someone. She made her way to the bar and waited until there was space to get a bartender’s attention.

A man with dark hair, dressed in black came over to her. He had just finished serving a pair of women when she had stepped up to the bar. “What can I get you?”

Deirdre shook her head, “Nothing I just wanted to report a guy with really roaming hands in the crowd. He is pretty wasted.”

The bartender nodded. “Right, never fails. Always one jackass at the beginning of the night.”

He reached over and picked up a phone. It was only moments later when two men approached the bar. The came to where Deirdre stood and asked for a description. She told them about the man and the pair headed out into the crowd. The bartender went back to serving drinks and Deirdre began to slowly walk with her hand on the bar. Her eyes were on the moving crowd hoping to spot the man.

There were a few tense minutes where she feared they would not find him in the large crowd. The men approached. Mister drooly was between them and they brought him over to Deirdre. Her back was straight and she lifted her chin as she looked him over.

“This him?”

A simple nod was all she gave and they immediately began to usher him outside. Deirdre felt better knowing he wouldn’t be bothering anyone here for the rest of the night and headed back to the dance floor.

She danced and danced. Sometimes she stopped to get a glass of water. The dark haired bartender always seemed happy to hand her a fresh glass and she in turn was happy to thank him.

Hours went by and she lost herself in the crowd and in the music. Around one in the morning the crowd began to thin out. She was content to keep going and enjoyed having more room.

Less people meant less people at the bar. Maybe I should go talk to him. Her stomach went tight with nerves as she contemplated the dark haired bartender.

With a deep inhale she set herself the task to talk to him. She headed to the bar and was immediately disappointed not to see him. She looked up and down the bar but only saw one other man and it wasn’t him. Deirdre’s fingers drummed on the bar. Could just walk away or....

She raised a hand hoping to get the other bartender’s attention. He had dark hair as well but his was tinted purple at the ends. His right ear was pierced with what looked like a sword. She leaned on the bar and kept her hand up. “Excuse me...”

Arin came down to Kat complaining, again, about the lack of progress. He understood her frustration, but for different reasons. Kat seemed to enjoy the whole process. She seemed to treat it like a scavenger hunt, using her computers to find bread crumbs and tracking them down like some private dick in the ‘50s. Subtly and subterfuge wouldn’t seem her speciality, but she had her moments. As if she knew his thoughts and wanted to prove his point she immediately started asking questions as soon as she saw him.

“Hey Arin! Meet any hot chicks at work last night?!” she called, cheekily.

Arin raised an eyebrow and shot a glance at Vivienne, “No Kat. Ladies night actually turns out to be a more accurate moniker than you’d think. Many ladies were there and I offered them the respect they deserved.”

Arin leaned in closer to Kat as he reached to grab an apple from a bowl on the nearby table. Whispering he continued, “Plus, there was no one there that would be as good looking as Guin is sure to be.”

With a wink he stood back up and bit into the apple, “No new news then?” He looked at both Vivienne and Kat, noting their slight scowl, “Well, that says it all. Right. I’m off for a ride then to the club. Should be a busy night. Let me know if something interesting happens here?”

He waved his apple at them in farewell and slipped out the door before Vivienne could give him any trouble about women at the club. Arin finished up his apple as he walked around to the back of the store. There was a small parking lot there and he kept his bike close to the wall, between the large metal garbage bin and the building. It was mostly hidden from sight there and deterred any random attention that kids might give it at night.

He wheeled the bike out into the open parking lot and leaned it on the kickstand while he donned his helmet. The bike was a striking sapphire blue with black trimmed, silver waves painted on the tank. The 1100cc engine rumbled to a start as Arin pushed the ignition. Many would call this sleek and sporty bike a crotch rocket and Arin didn’t wholly disagree. As he opened the throttle a few times to ensure it was warmed and ready he could feel the engine’s power under him. He grinned under his full face helm, lowered the visor, leaned down to grasp both handles and shifted into gear. Releasing the clutch and opening the throttle Arin took off with a small squeal of rubber.

Soon he had found some open highway where he could really open up and was flicking his bike through traffic. He was careful not to attract legal type attention, but he certainly pushed the limits as much as he could. He always had a rush with the control he had over the vehicle at speed. The vibration and high pitched buzz of the engine being used properly was one of his favourite feelings. He spent a good three hours zipping around the city, through the rural highways and side roads and back to the city to run other errands.

*

When it was time to start his shift he pulled up with his bike to the back of the club. Another thing about riding was he never had to worry about finding parking. He could fit just about anywhere and didn’t take long to secure his bike in a hashed off area. Carrying his helmet with a swagger he walked into the backroom of the club and quickly changed out of his riding gear. He locked up his stuff as his partner for the night, Shane Wallace, walked in.

“Hey Shane, good to see you. Think we’re in for a fun night or an interesting one?” Arin asked as Shane started gather his stuff.

Shane grinned, “Well, it’s the night for the uni chicks to come out, isn’t it? I think we stand a chance to get lucky Arin. Split tips and go for broke?”

Arin laughed, he knew Shane was a dark horse favourite of the women. Not the obvious, classical, good looks, but the dark and handsome type. It worked quite well for him as the night wore on and he was able to chat the women up. Split tips with Shane was a good deal for both. Arin got the attention early and Shane closed the deal late. “You got it bud. They won’t know what got into them.”

“Unless they wake up with one of us, eh?” Shane replied.

Arin laughed, “Fair enough. Let’s get at it.”

They both went out and got the bar ready for a busy night.

*

The night started typically. Arin was serving drinks efficiently and doing his best to flirt and keep the women coming back for more while still engaging the men with sports talk, or whatever they were interested in. Arin knew if he concentrated only on the women that he would lose his edge as a go to barman. The men had to know they were being served just as efficiently and competently in order to keep the club full. Men came to bars that had the women, but women only came to bars that had the men, as well. It was a balance that Arin learned to deal with well. It didn’t hurt that his fae blood gave him unnatural charm and charisma. Anyone talking to him for more than a few seconds couldn’t help but feel friendly toward him.

At some point in the night, a younger women that Arin had never seen before, came over to the bar. Arin’s attention was first caught by the intensely blue eyes accentuated in silver. The curly, blonde hair, framed a beautiful face. As she ordered her drink Arin took the chance to look her over. Athletic, curvy and happy to show it off, Arin had to catch himself before he spilled a drink. Her order was extensive, but not completely unusual for the university crowd. The spiced ale was different but Arin knew something to please and grabbed a pint of the local fall harvest ale.

He delivered the pint first as she presented her ID. Arin took a look at it and then back at her, “Well, you don’t sound like much of a Scot, but you certainly have the bonnie down. You and your friends all have this... appropriate... identification?” Arin raised an eyebrow and grinned.

“Bit odd seeing as I’m from London, but at least I’m not Irish.” Arey returned with a grin. He was American, so unlikely to get the joke, but it was hard to resist sneaking it in either way. She eyed him as he handed her the pint, noticing how his muscles flexed when he moved. The guy was definitely an athlete, all muscle and cheekbones in all the right places. She couldn’t really help but be attracted to him really. But it was something else too, this kind of…aura of familiarity that she couldn’t really explain. Maybe it was just the atmosphere she decided. "You're not so hard on the eyes yourself mate." She returned with a smile. Arey wouldn't really call herself particularly experienced when it cam to flirting, but she figured she could manage a compliment.

“Oh unquestionably.” Arey replied solemnly batting her baby blues jokingly as if to add credibility. She was technically legal in her own country, so Arey didn’t really feel bad about drinking anyway. She knew her limits, and wasn’t about to let her friends or herself do anything stupid.

She took a sip of the Ale while the bartender started on the other drinks, and was genuinely surprised by the taste, which showed on her face. American alcohol in general, from what she’d had of it, tended to either taste like nail polish remover masked with fruit punch, or, to be crude, piss water. She had genuinely missed the pub scene in London with her friends when she’d first come to America this summer, but this was a good as any of the local brewers she’d find in any of her old haunts back home.

“Who makes this?” Arey asked, genuinely curious.

With a pretty grin the woman riposted with a play herself. Arin understood that it was some type of British humour. Likely Vivienne would have laughed, or at least chuckled lightly. All Arin knew was she was playing off his joke. So he smiled big and nodded.

When she returned his compliment he felt strangely proud. Like the approval of this woman in particular meant more to him. While Arin knew these IDs were not quite truthful he felt that this woman could be trusted to not be trouble. Something in him said she knew what she was doing and would be able to keep her friends in line too. He went about making the other drinks but could not stop himself from continually glancing over at her. He found that he was not looking at her, but rather ensuring that she still approved and was engaged with him. This was an odd feeling. Never had he sought anything like this from a patron before.

In response to her query about the beer itself, Arin returned to familiar ground, “Ah yes. Funny thing. There’s this brew pub called King Arthur’s Brewery. I managed to convince them to send up some kegs to us. This is their Guinevere’s Wheat Potion. Not strictly the spiced ale you were looking for but the malts are still quite flavourful. Faint berries and citrus. Reminds me of the way the Queen might wear her perfume.”

Arin stopped himself. He suddenly felt like he was saying too much and he didn’t know why. He paused, the last drink this woman ordered in his hand. Yes, she was quite beautiful. Something about her....

“So, here is your drink, Bonnie. Though personally, I would like to know your real name. I am Eärendil, but you can call me Arin. I hope you’ll come back and order more.”

Arey liked watching him work. It was kind of strange really, especially since she didn’t even know his name. There was just something comforting about it all, as if watching him was something that was both familiar and routine. It wasn’t, so she kept it to herself. A guy like him probably got hit on enough at work without her acting like some weird overly attached stalker. He knew his brews though, Arey thought impressed, listening with interest as he went on.

King Arthur…Guinevere. Arey felt a pang of anxiety she couldn’t really explain. Not from the bartender, just seemingly out of the blue. He mentioned berries and citrus and the Queen’s perfume. Arey’s mind wandered strangely to a woman with flowing sun kissed hair, laughing blue grey eyes, and a smile that left a strange constricting feeling in the pit of her stomach. “And heather…” Arey replied without thinking, almost sounding lost before blinking twice to shake the image away. Where the bloodly hell had that come from?

“Sorry, that was odd.” Arey said with a small laugh to try and shake the weird feeling off. “I’m Arey, nice to meet you Arin.” She said extending her hand out to shake.

Heather? Yes, that was it. Arin’s thoughts consumed him for a moment. It was convenient that this woman seemed almost as distracted.

Oh shit. Really? Finally?

Arin regained his focus and became more resolute. This woman, her distractions, her reaction to the brewery name. Knowledge of the Queen’s perfume. Arin tried to calm down and focus on his job. Otherwise he’d be leaping across the bar and taking her in his arms right now.

“No, not odd, really. Nice to meet you Arey. Really. I’m glad you came tonight. You might think, being a bartender I meet a lot of interesting people, but I honestly can say, I’m really happy to have met you. I do hope you come back for more drinks later.” Arin indicated Shane, “If you get his attention because I’m busy, please ask for me. He’ll understand. I hope to see you again, soon.”

Was this flirting? It sounded like he was flirting. Cute bartender Arin was flirting with her! It wasn’t like she’d never flirted with someone before, but Arey had never really dated either, so she was paranoid sometimes about getting her wires crossed with guys. Sometimes, she honestly just couldn’t tell, but there were few things she found less appealing than unrequited affections, which was why she had always let the guy make the first move.

It certainly sounded like he was flirting, and the thought filled her with a kind of excitement that warmed her in ways the ale couldn’t. She couldn’t explain why his attention was affecting her this way, or why it made her feel so in awe about the whole exchange, but that was the reality. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” Arey said with a smile, almost leaving her number with her tip (but deciding that was too forward) before taking the drinks back to the table with her waiting friends.

“Someone was chatting up the hot bartender!” Amanda teased before sipping on her rum and coke. Arey’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t try to deny it either. Soon they were back out on the dance floor, working through the next set list, Arey with a renewed drive to impress. Would he be watching? Maybe, she thought. Arey honestly couldn’t explain it, but she had this sudden need for his approval, to impress him, and Arey was nothing if not determined.

After a while, Arey figured an acceptable amount of time had passed since she’d last been up for a drink. She wasn’t really sure what the next step in this dance was, but she wanted to talk to him again, social standards could go bugger themselves. When she got to the bar, Arin was with a customer, so she waited to the side. She didn’t want to mess with his work after all. A few minutes passed, and she was still waiting. Maybe she should just go back to the dance floor to wait, come back when he wasn’t busy. Standing here alone just felt awkward. Arey was about to do just that, when she felt a cold hand slide across her ass.

“What is a pretty girl like you doing up here all alone?” A masculine voice husked in her ear from the body from behind that had her caged between the bar and his back. He was touching her arm, her head felt funny, like she couldn’t quite think straight. Her pulse quickened and heat pooled as frighteningly swift and unexplainable attraction warred with an instinct buried deep inside that was screaming DANGER! “Such pretty eyes. I could take real good care of you sweetheart.” He practically purred.

“No thanks.” She replied, short and clipped, trying to pull out of his grip. He let her arm go, but he didn’t back out of her personal space either. “Oooh I heard British girls like playing hard to get.” He drawled in a voice that would be much more attractive had he not put her so on edge.

“We call it having standards.” She replied with irritation. This guy gave her the creeps, which made her reaction to him all the more strange. She just wanted him to go away. Arey saw something dangerous flash across his eyes, but in a moment it was gone, and he was wearing a predatory grin. He was definitely not leaving her alone, Arey thought with dismay, trying to peak around his arms for her friends to try and signal for a rescue.

Arin continued his night, but he couldn't quite get his mind completely off Arey. He tried to watch for her in the crowd, but he had other patrons to serve. He continued to do that with his normal aplomb, however he did cut down on his more obvious flirting. He didn’t do it consciously, more distractedly.

While serving a group of people he finally noticed her out of the corner of his eye. She was waiting patiently for him. He tried to get through the group quickly but they just couldn’t decide what drinks they wanted. Eventually he saw her turn away and he inwardly sighed. He finished the group order and turned. Arey was still at the bar. With another man.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Not hard for her to find interest, no doubt.

Arin started to turn back to his work but then he noticed the irritated body language and the avoiding of groping hands. Arin sighed for a different reason now. Some guys just couldn’t contain their alcohol and became massive creeps when their social inhibitions went away. Arin never liked to butt in, since he didn’t know the full situation. As well, his employer frowned on a bartender intruding in a couple’s argument. It hindered repeat business.

Arin also knew that not many women wanted a guy to come in a save them from harmless situations. It implied they were weak and needed a man to take care of them. Arin didn’t get the sense that Arey was a wilting flower. Still, she seemed to be looking for her friends, or something. Arin knew the best kind of cover story for this one. He poured another beer for Arey and walked over.

“Hello miss, sorry for the delay. Here’s the drink you ordered,” Arin placed the drink a little further away from the creep so Arey had to move some to grab it. He also leaned onto the bar to slightly impose himself in the creep’s line of sight. He was hoping to distract long enough for Arey to be able to get back to her friends.

He addressed the creep directly, “So, what’ll you have then?”

His friendly smile froze as he looked the man in the face. Arin narrowed his eyes. The fae blood in him tingled with a sense of danger. This man was not entirely a man. Arin could tell he was facing something from beyond the veil. Vivienne had told him about many types who might make it through. Arin had his suspicions on what he faced but he couldn’t remember all the details Vivienne told him to look for.

Arin tried to return to his job and give Arey time to move away, “C’mon then, I don’t have all night. You want a beer? I need to adjust the co2 pressure here, so let me know or else you’re going to get a glass of foam.”

With that Arin reached below the bar, where they kept the various tools they had to work with the keg lines. He pulled out an older looking, iron, wrench. He kept it around the place, just in case. It was easy to explain a wrench in a bar, even if it were older. Carrying around other iron items would probably draw too much attention.

He held the wrench casually on the bar but ensured it was close enough to the creep that it could be seen and almost felt. Arin wasn’t threatening with it, rather he was just making a point that the creep should move on and quickly.

“No problem mate. You looked pretty swamped.” Arey said playing along when Arin approached with a diversion. His presence brought her immediate comfort, and the panicked edge in her mind seemed to melt away. Nothing was going to touch her with him here. Arey didn’t know how she knew that, but it was a feeling she couldn’t shake.

She managed to move even farther out of the creep’s arms as she moved toward the drink, and she’d noticed the guy seemed to stiffen when Arin approached. Did they know each other? If they did, Arin did a good job of hiding it. The creep’s eyes flicked between Arin and the wrench a couple times before giving him a tight lipped smile.

“I’m alright thanks.” He said pushing off the bar. The girl was pretty, and she had a brighter soul than he’d seen in a very long time, but he didn’t need the hassle from some half-breed punk who was packing Iron. He was too hungry for that, and this place was full of girls just ripe for the tasting. And who knew, it was a big dance floor, he might just catch her around without the watchdog around.

And with that he slinked back off onto the dance floor, much to Arey’s relief, as she watched him warily until he was out of sight. “Thanks, something about that bloke gave me the creeps.” Arey said with a small smile. “Suppose that makes you the gallant knight eh?” Arey joked remembering their exchange from either.

The creep backed down and moved away from the bar. Arin watched it blend back into the crowd. He flinched slightly when Arey referred to him as a gallant knight. Something about that term, from her, rang less like a joke. Normally a comment like that would really grate on him, but he got an unfamiliar swell of pride. He turned back to her with a lopsided grin, “Yeah, creeps, I can see that. I’ll get the bouncers to keep an eye on him. Though I took away the best prize I’m sure he’ll go after another.”

Arin pointed at the beer, “On me. Also, why with the knight? I just took advantage of my position to provide a distraction. I think you could have handled him.”

Even though the creep wasn’t human, Arin really did believe that when he said it. For some reason he felt that Arey wasn’t in as much trouble as any other woman might have been in the same situation.

Arin leaned on the bar closer to Arey. If she was going to call him a knight, he was going to turn the tables and see how she responded, “Though if that's the part you wish me to play? A gallant knight often receives a favour from the lady when defending her honour. M’lady would do a great favour of leaving her number, if she found her champion worthy.”

He didn’t want to come on too strong, especially if this was Guin. Yet he also didn’t want to pass up the chance and lose contact. So he put on a friendly, charming, smile and hoped Arey felt some of the connection he felt.

“Good, bloke doesn’t seem to like taking no for an answer.” Arey said frowning slightly. Part of her felt guilty for just watching him walk away, undoubtedly to harass some other girl, but what was she really supposed to do about it? She blushed a little at Arin’s complement, though for some reason she didn’t feel like she deserved it.

“Seemed appropriate considering our earlier conversation.” Arey returned. “Maybe he’s not the first grabby drunk I’ve handled, but it’s nice you still came anyway.” She said with a smile. And he really did have this knight aura about him she realized. Arey wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the whole King Arthur topic earlier, or just the cultural norm of a girl to equate the guy she fancies as a knight in shining armor, but the title seemed to suit him perfectly in her mind.

“Well I suppose if that’s the case…” Arey replied in a very conspiratorial voice as she reached for one of the napkins on the bar and a pen before scribbling her name and number down. “You gallant Sir, may consider yourself so favored.” She said with a flirty smile as she held out the napkin.

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“This way Martin.” The Professor called out from his dark table by the window, looking out at the street from a crack in the blinds. He sat there looking rather dignified and unruffled for a man who was essentially breaking and entering, but then the professor had a way of making important things like laws seem trivial on a daily basis.

“I’m afraid you’ve missed the main show Martin, but there’s still a lot to be learned here. Any idea what’s inside that bland looking office building?” He asked with a quirked brow.

A number on a napkin. Arin had seen this a few times before. He or Shane often ended nights with a napkin like this. Yet, for Arin, this was a completely different feeling. Never was there a conquest comparison between he and Shane, like he’d seen with other barmen. Other women’s numbers always were viewed as a honour to receive. Yet, this seemed precious. Arin almost couldn’t bring himself to take it. As though he were taking something far more valuable. He was excited and humbled. Nervous and proud. He had proved himself but was afraid of making a mistake. Yet, he had to play it cool. He could not pass up this chance at getting this close and just missing it. He didn’t want to turn this into a missed opportunity. He hated those kind of stories.

He reached for the napkin, brushing her fingers as he grabbed it. Even though he was half expecting it the shock of familiarity took his breath away for a moment. Vivienne had taught him how to handle the flashbacks. How to let them play through without overwhelming. However, he had not had any contact with others yet. He had no experience with what a joint connection would be like.

Intense flashes of unquestioned loyalty, deep connection, comfort of being around each other, overcame him. A quick intake of breath and a tensing of his hand on the napkin were the outward signs of his flash. He hoped hers did not cause undue reactions. If she had one.

“Thank you Arey. I will call, soon. Hope you like motorcycles?”

Just then another group of patrons came to the bar. Shane was busy so it fell to Arin to accommodate them.

“I’m sorry, please excuse me. As much as I would love to continue with you, I do kind of want to keep my job,” he smiled and moved to take care of the new arrivals.

*

As the night went on and the crowd thinned, Arin had more idle time. He found his thoughts coming back to Arey and Guin. Finally, he had found her. He would have to tell Vivienne, but he wanted to get to know her first. He didn’t want Arey learning about her past life to cloud anything they might have naturally. Viv would be pissed, but he would deal with that later. Could he tell Kat? Would Kat help him or go right to Viv?

A voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw a pretty brunette waving him down. He hadn’t seen her tonight. She was certainly pretty. No doubt she had her share of attention this evening. Arin nodded at her and started to move toward her. Just then Shane walked out from the back room. He saw the woman and Arin starting to move. He gave Arin their sign for, ‘I got this.’ Arin smiled and let Shane handle it.

After Arey left the bar, she felt elated. It was hard to really describe what it was she was feeling, it was all so jumbled, but it was strong. In fact, it was almost scary how much that one interaction seemed to affect her so emotionally. Arey had always been a level headed and practical person, and was slow going as far as emotional attachments went, so this was a first for her. Regardless, she still returned to her friends on the floor, grinning like an idiot while Arin went back to work.

As the night went on, the floor cleared out a bit, but the club was still far from dead. Arey continuously caught herself looking over toward the bar, but she didn’t want to come off as clingy, so she kept her distance. Arin said he’d call, and a little part of her deep down that she didn’t quite recognize knew for certain that he would, so she just needed to relax and let him do his job. She still could however, still take a peek every now and again from the booth she and her friends were taking a break at as she sipped some water.

Amanda was talking about some Lit professor she found dreamy, and Arey had mostly managed to tune her out, eyes wandering across the floor. That’s when she saw him. The creep who’d gotten a bit too familiar with her at the bar had a curvy blonde in a blue dress hanging on his arm as he sauntered into the girl’s bathroom. Arey might have dismissed the whole thing, except the girl he was with seemed a little off. Her mind flashed back to the incident at the bar, and how jumbled her head had felt when he touched her, almost like being drugged. Was that what was happening here? The thought left a cold chill running down her spine, and a spark of something else. Indignation? It felt stronger than that, but Arey didn’t know how to describe it.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Arey told her friends as she left the table and walked toward the bathroom before her rational mind could catch up and scream to her that this was a bad idea. When she opened the door to the bathroom, the first thing she noticed was that the lights were off, which put her immediately on edge. It took her a moment of fumbling along the wall to find the light switch, and the light blinded her for a second before her eyes adjusted.

Lying on the floor with labored breathing, was the girl with the blue dress, but Arey had little time to process this before there was a hand at her throat shoving her against the wall. Her fingers clawed at the hand closed around her throat, and her eyes bulged as she felt a pair of lips descend upon hers, sending her mind haywire. He was the most handsome man in the world! So wonderful, so beautiful, she just wanted to be stripped naked and worship him! But he was so cold, it felt wrong. Why was he so cold? Arey couldn’t remember where she was, but she was burning and freezing and there was a voice in the back of her mind that was screaming.

Almost unconsciously, Arey’s knee flew up to meet his crotch in an unforgiving collision that sent the creep howling as he fell off of her. Some instinct inside drove Arey, as she sent another punch that connected with his face. He reared back, eyes looking almost red, and lunged at her, shoving her back toward the wall. Arey fell back, but rolled quickly out of his grasp when he tried to follow after her, and from her position on the ground, used both her feet to slam into his middle that sent him stumbling out the door. Arey rolled up, and crawled toward the other girl on the floor. She wasn’t breathing. Arey checked her pulse, finding only a weak one, but at least she wasn’t cold. Pumped with adrenaline she rushing toward the door, seeing the creep run pushing through the crowd toward the exit, but she didn’t have time to stop him.

“Someone call 9-1-1!” Arey screamed before running back to the girl on the floor, crouching down, and desperately beginning CPR.

The shouts for 911 shocked him. Galaxy wasn’t typically the kind of place that inspired violence. Arin looked up and saw the pretty brunette heading toward Arey. Arey, bloodstained, looking shocked and yelling for help. Arin barely resisted the urge to hurtle the bar and go to her. It seemed that brunette was taking care of it. He felt an unexpected sense of calm, “It’s taken care of. They have it.”

Arin shook his head. He wanted to talk to that brunette now, and he especially wanted to make sure Arey was okay, but he needed to keep the other patrons calm.

Eventually he saw Arey coming out with paramedics. He looked for the brunette and caught a glimpse of her as she snuck out the door. Obviously she didn’t want to deal with the the questions. Arin cursed his not approaching her faster when she waved him down. At least to find out her name. There was something about her that he wanted to know. He was distracted from those thoughts as he once again noticed Arey, looking a little worse for wear, being escorted outside. Of all the times to be tied to work. He wished he could easily walk away, but he did need the job.

Finally, after answering his own set of questions from uniformed officers gather routine eye witness statements, he was able to close up and go home. He talked with Shane but found out his co-worker did not get the brunette’s number either. She hadn’t even introduced herself, so Arin still didn’t know her name. With mixed feelings he headed home. Excited about meeting Arey, but vexed with the brunette.

He went up to his apartment, which was thankfully empty. It was even odds that Kat had decided to get some quiet time and fallen asleep on his couch. Tonight he had the place to himself. He briefly thought it was too bad Arey wasn’t able to come home with him, but remembered she was kind of occupied with other business. That memory brought back some worry and he took out the napkin with her number, considering if it was too late to call to see if she was okay. He decided to call her first thing tomorrow and placed the number by his phone.

He took a hot shower, trying to relax before heading to bed. It partially worked, as he fell asleep quickly, but his sleep was not uneventful.

He was gathered with other newly knighted men. His new lord, Arthur, stood as he received the Queen’s lady with a message. Lancelot heard the lady say that the Queen was being held prisoner. He watched Arthur blanch. Though he was newly sworn a knight he found it too difficult to stand by while his lord and king was distressed, “Your grace, tell us what you need. We will act as your right hand and ensure this villain knows the critical mistake he made by daring abduct our Lady.”

A few other knights nodded and agreed with Lancelot’s proclamation. Lancelot waited for his King’s order.

“Not quite.” The professor drawled, ignoring Martin’s snarky comments for the most part. He had come to associate such behavior from the boy from their brief association, and it wasn’t something he felt a particular need to correct. “I would advise however, you not let her touch you. Succubuses, nasty bottom feeders that they are, tend to be rather aggressive around individuals such as yourself.” He continued, not bothering to hide the distain in his voice.

“Tonight, you are going to learn how to break their thrall if approached. Then if we get around to it, we’ll cover how to torture one for information.” His smile was shark like, hungry but without malice. The hungry little unseelie inside had information he wanted; like what the new player on the scene looked like. He’d had his little birds out watching Vivienne’s errand girl for a while now, and it appeared they’d finally found one. Was it Arthur? There was really no telling, but it was enough of a possibility that he wanted to know exactly who this young man was, and what he looked like.

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Arthur had never before felt such rage; the need to draw blood and inflict pain never an urge so tempting. He wanted to hear the crunch of bone beneath his foot, and slash apart the man who dared to steal the light of his life. The urge to cause Meleagant pain was an all-consuming one, and for a moment Arthur felt a darkness trying to creep into his heart, but carefully he shoved it away. It would not help his love to act in rash anger, only to alleviate his own guilt and worry, which Arthur felt he did not deserve. When one of his newly sworn knights, Sir Lancelot, spoke, Arthur welcomed the distraction and listened. The man was charismatic and passionate as he spoke, and the young king felt a mixture of admiration and envy.

“Meleagant wishes to draw us into open warfare. His Cliff side fortress would give him the clear advantage in any battle we waged. We will need to outwit him if we are to rescue my Lady wife.” Arthur responded after a moment, quieting the call for blood that sang in his veins.

“Indeed.” Chimed in an old though sharp voice as the cloaked and wizened figure of Merlin appeared, and made his way to the king. “Fortunately for you my king the paranoia of kings past has left its mark through their masons.” The old wizard said smiling as he pulled out a roll of old parchment from his cloak. "There is another way to enter your foe's fortress."

Lancelot leaned in to watch the old man unroll the parchment. His eyes widened as the contents became clear. The entire layout of of this Meleagant’s fortress was laid out. Lancelot’s eyes scanned the information quickly. Lancelot thrust his finger toward the parchment, almost shoving aside the old man’s hand, “Here, Your Grace...”

The old man raised an eyebrow, “Yes. As this over enthusiastic young knight has astutely pointed out, there is a less than used ingress that would allow a means to extract the Lady. However, the fortress is well manned, and this is not the way for an army to enter.”

Lancelot had the grace to look chagrined as the old man rebuked him, yet quickly turned his attention back to the parchment. He pointed at an isolated room, “This is where she would be.”

Another raised eyebrow silenced Lancelot and he stepped back. He looked up at Arthur.

As Arthur gazed at the parchment, he was filled with a growing sense of purpose. The man within him wanted nothing more than to ride through the night and storm through the secret passage to rescue his captive love himself, and damned be anyone who stood between them. His inner tactician however, recognized how foolish a plan that would be. The best way to ensure his Lady’s safe escape from the fortress could not allow such reckless passion on his part. He needed to be smart, and keep his wits about him.

“I will lead a company of men toward the gates as if to do battle. By doing so Meleagant will focus all his attention there. He wishes to see me dead, and will be distracted by that goal.” Arthur began explaining, grabbing a stick from the ground and drawing up a crude map of their positions. “This will provide an opportunity for one knight to slip through the passage, rescue the queen, and take her back to the safety of Camelot.” He finished.

“The gate is where he wants you Arthur. By doing this you play to his hand. Do not forget that Meleagant is a practitioner of magic, and has proven himself to be a master of trickery and dishonorable conduct. He may try to curse you from his tower above without ever mobilizing his own men.” Merlin warned, as he was made uneasy by his King’s willingness to put himself in such a vulnerable position.

“No, he is also a man ruled by emotion and pride. He would not be satisfied with defeating me thusly. He would much rather run me through and watch; nothing else will temp Meleagant and his men from their fortress. There is no other way.” Arthur argued back, mind already made up. Merlin looked aggrieved with the decision, but spoke no more against it. Arthur turned to his knights, appraising them all as he tried to decide who to send through the passage. He did not doubt the intent or loyalty of any of his men, but he would need the knight who was the most tenacious and unyielding, to protect his wife. One among them stood out from the rest.

“Lancelot,” Arthur said solemnly as he turned to his young knight. “I would trust you with my most sacred treasure. Protect her with your life; bring her home.”

*

She sat, straight backed and hands in her lap. Meleagant had sent a servant with a tray for her but she refused to eat. Guinevere did not think he wished to hurt her but she was not willing to take chances. He himself, had not come to see her since he escorted her to the room but she knew at some point he would come to discuss what he wanted of her. She knew her guards were in a nearby room since she could hear them if she moved to the locked door. Guinevere took comfort in their still being alive and unhurt.

The queen knew that by now her husband had received her ring and was likely working out a plan for her rescue. Guinevere stood and crossed to the window again. The room was high up and the castle itself in a position of power. Any attack Arthur might wage would surely be for naught. Meleagant held the power here and while she knew Arthur to be a great leader and tactician she could not see how he could lay siege to such a fortress without losing many men. Her eyes lowered to the stone of the sill.

“Impenetrable....”

*

Lancelot made his way through the halls of the keep. He had found no resistance at the entrance. Other than avoiding a few servants there was very little activity. Meleagant had pulled all available resources to his battle with Arthur’s main force.

He found his way to the isolated section of the keep where he suspected the Queen would be held. Here, finally, he found some opposition. Two men left behind. The minimum to secure Meleagant’s prize. There would be no avoiding them and Lancelot would not attempt to back stab them. He would face them head on.

“Men, surrender your prisoner quietly. Arthur has come to reclaim what was stolen from him,” Lancelot stood, sword drawn, at the end of the hallway.

The two men turned, surprised to be challenged. After a brief hesitation to gather their wits they drew their weapons and charged.

Lancelot used the confines of the hallway to his advantage. Gracefully circling to keep the two men from being able to attack him simultaneously. He fought defensively in order to control the flow of the encounter. The clash of swords echoed in the hallway. Finally Lancelot found the opening he needed. A clumsy attempt as one guard attacked over the other. With a quick parry, Lancelot entangled the two men’s weapons and struck. With a quick reverse cut he was able to disable both men before either could counter. He quickly ensure neither man would be able to raise any alarm or report. Bloodied but unhurt he quickly found the first door and pushed it open.

Guinevere turned at the sound of a man’s voice stating that Arthur had come to reclaim her. She was positive however that it was not Arthur in the hallway. It was not his voice she heard nor was it the voice of any knight she recognized.

She moved quickly to the door. Outside in the hall there was the sound of swords clanging together. Men grunted with effort. Then it went quiet. Guinevere backed away from the door as someone undid the lock and opened the door. Her eyes quickly looked for something to defend herself with.

Guin darted to the tray the servant had left. She grabbed a chalice, silver and heavy. The liquid contents were dumped and she lifted it as if to wield it like a club.

Her eyes were on the door and the figure who moved inside. “Who are you and why do you use my lord husband’s name so freely?”

It was then that her eyes fell on the tabard. He was one of Arthur’s knights. Guinevere lowered the chalice as she looked the knight over. She did not recognize him which meant he was a newly appointed knight, someone from Arthur’s recent journey away.

“Your name good knight?”

Lancelot fell to one knee and bowed his head as the Queen addressed him, “My lady, you may call me Lancelot, if it pleases you. I use your husband, and my king’s name, as it was he who sent me here to assist your journey back to Camelot.”

Guinevere tilted her head, a smile gracing her lips. “Rise Lancelot. This is not the time for such formality.”

She placed the chalice haphazardly on the tray once more and crossed the room to him.

“Let us leave here.”

Guinevere looked down at him.

“There is always time for respect, my lady,” he rose as he said this, looking at her fully for the first time. She was beautiful, more so than any story could do justice. He found himself briefly lost in the blue depths of her eyes. With a cough, he blushed and moved further into the room.

“Yes. Leave. Are there others?” he tried to avoid being caught staring again, but found it quite difficult to keep his eyes off her.
Guinevere felt like time stopped briefly as he looked at her. Lancelot stood. She felt as if her heart might beat out of her chest. Her stomach tightened. Guinevere felt her cheek flush slightly.

“Yes.”

She watched him move away and felt as if she should move towards him but remained where she stood. Her head turned to look towards the door.

“Yes, my men are locked in a room close by. I surrendered to Meleagant’s demands to stop him from slaughtering them.”

Guin turned to look once more at Lancelot. Her eyes drifted over his form. Her eyes took in the blood. “Are you hurt?”

She crossed to stand in front of him again. Her voice was low and throaty as she drew near. She felt her pulse quicken once more. “If you are wounded we should tend to it quickly and then free my men.”

Lancelot resisted the urge to embrace her. Though he almost wished he was wounded if only to be attended to by her. He shook his head, “No, my lady. The men outside were not a challenge to a knight on a righteous and honourable quest.”

He could not bring himself to move away from her and yet the urge to reach out and touch her was torturous to resist, “Yes, your men. It would be good news indeed for Arthur to hear that the Queen’s guard were still alive as well.”

Though Lancelot could only imagine the blow to their honour they were feeling. The Queen captured and the guard without a loss.

Guinevere was relieved he was not hurt. There was more than relief there, though she could not name what it was for certain.

“Yes, good news.”

They were standing very close and she could smell the coppery scent of the blood. Despite it she could not bring herself to move away. Her eyes found his and stayed there.

“We should leave. Arthur shall be waiting.”

At the mention of his name Guinevere felt her blood drain from her face. “Where is Arthur?” She turned to look to the hall. “Where are the other guards? Meleagant?”

Fear gripped her and she reached out to grasp Lancelot’s arm.

“Have no fear. The king has engaged the villain’s forces, drawing them out of the keep to allow my furtive entrance. There is time,” He looked down at the hand holding his arm, stuck between willing it to release him or for it to run up his arm to his face.

Guinevere’s eyes were full of distress and concern. She knew that engaging Arthur, hoping to kill him is what Meleagant wanted.

“We should not delay any longer. The sooner we return to him, the better...”

She pulled her eyes from Lancelot’s to her hand that gripped him lightly. Her fingers relaxed and for a moment her hand lingered, gently on his arm. Guinevere let her hand slip from him. A faint blush stained her cheeks now and she looked away demurely.

“I will follow you Lancelot.”

Gathering his focus back to the task on hand, Lancelot found the Queen’s Guard, “Come men. We must escort the Queen back to Camelot. The King awaits.”

There was a general cheer and clattering as the men rose to Lancelot’s call. They quickly searched nearby rooms to find what equipment they could and Lancelot lead the way back. He attempted to stay as near to Guinevere as he could.

Outwardly, Kat merely shrugged at Tim’s compliment, but internally she preened at the positive attention. She really did like making him blush too, it was almost like a game, and one she was rapidly becoming addicted to. Kat contented herself with ogling some of Tim’s finer anatomy while he went about his business clearing his schedule and contacting his coworkers. Similarly she enjoyed watching his face as he tried processing all the information she’d thrown at him at once before diving in with his questions. Kat wasn’t entirely sure how to answer them all, but she’d try to be as honest as possible.

“Right, which is why finding him is so important. The city itself is crawling with Unseelie, but dark fae aren’t the only monsters crawling around in the shadows. There’s a whole other world within our own that most humans are never aware of, but it’s dangerous, and there’s no telling how the other supernatural creatures are going to react to him.” Kat began a bit cryptically. “He should be completely human, but a soul spending that much time in the Fae world has to do something to it, chosen or not, the same with all of you.” She continued, and a rather disturbing thought came to mind. “For all we know, you guys could be some kind of walking talking power boosts to these guys.” It was already becoming a more common occurrence to see rogue vampires try to drink fae blood to increase their own power or break a sire bond, and though successful cases of these abductions were rare, they weren’t unheard of. And that was just vampires.

Sometimes, the biggest monsters didn’t have fangs. From personal experience, Kat knew the human variety could be much more cruel. Hoping her face didn’t show just how disturbed that line of thinking made her feel, Kat jumped to his next question. “Honestly, we don’t know how many of you there are. It could be the whole court of Camelot, or maybe just the ones the Gleaming deemed necessary to help Arthur protect the world. We don’t really make the executive orders on this, we’re just the cleanup crew.” Kat tried to explain, though she felt she was probably just making this more confusing.

“Arin seems pretty sure Guinevere’s here, and given their past life history, that could mean a lot of things. Maybe he just really wants her to be here, so he sees and feels what he wants to convince himself that she is. Maybe you all actually do have the ability to sense each other on some level, I couldn’t say.” Kat tried to supply, feeling pretty useless on this end. “Arin will know more on that end than me, but even he doesn’t have a whole lot of experience with that, you being the first knight we’ve found and all.”
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Steel clashing, horses screaming, and pain, maddening and unbelievably all-consuming pain. She was in agony, as she felt every muscle in her body feel like they were being torn apart. She wanted to scream, but it felt like the air was being sucked from her lungs. She smelt horses and fire, saw darkness and trees, but she didn’t know where she was, stuck between her own conciseness and a hauntingly vivid memory that was not her own. There was a man there with a sword, his eyes dark and gleeful, looking drunk on victory. She was going to die, she couldn’t breathe and a maniac had a lethal looking sword pointed her way. She felt so confused, everything hurt, she didn’t know where she was, and a looming sadness pressed in upon her. This was it, she’d never see Guin again…

“AREY! AREY WAKE UP!” A voice screamed nearby. Somehow, amongst the fighting and the chaos around her it seemed out of place. Arey…she was Arey, and with that realization strikingly blue eyes snapped open and Arey began gasping desperately for breath, choking a bit on much needed air in the process.

“Thank god! Jesus Christ Arey, you scared the shit out of me!” Amanda blubbered, looking the most rattled Arey had ever seen her. “What happened?” Arey asked groggily, her voice sounding horse and gravely to her own ear. She felt sore all over, but it was quickly fading, more like a remembered pain than an actual injury. The feeling was bizarre.

“You just started screaming! I tried waking you up, but then you kind of…seized up or something and stopped breathing! I didn’t know what to do!” Amanda explained looking entirely lost and shaken up. “Should we go to the hospital? Oh god, I should have called 911. You stopped breathing and I just sat here shaking your shoulders like an idiot. Oh my god, Jesus Christ I’m stupid.” Amanda began rambling, and Arey reached out to grab her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m fine, just a bad dream.” Arey tried to reassure her friend, who countered with a disbelieving look. “A bad dream? Are you kidding me? Arey you looked like you were having a fucking seizer!” Arey just shrugged her shoulders, not really sure how to reply. It wasn’t like she had any clue what had just happened either.

“Was it about what happened last night?” Amanda asked gently, as if just remembering that her friend had been assaulted the night before. Trauma was known to do a lot of funny things to people after all.

“I don’t really remember what it was about.” Arey lied. She had no idea how to explain what had just happened, and she definitely didn’t want to talk about it. She’d been having a lot of weird dreams lately, but this was the first one she really remembered well, and she had no idea what it meant, much less how to explain it to someone else.

“Ok fine. I’m gonna go grab us some coffees. You try and move around and look less…traumatized alright?” Amanda finally said with a sigh before leaving the dorm. Arey could tell she needed to work off the tension, so she probably wouldn’t be back for about an hour, which left Arey alone with her thoughts.

Arin awoke with the, by now familiar, feeling of duality. The dream fresh in his mind, the desire for the woman still affecting him. A few deep breaths brought him back to this time but he couldn’t shake the desire. He rolled over and grabbed his phone and the napkin laying on the night table next to it. He had dialed half the number before he caught himself.
What the hell are you doing? Way to appear clingy and creepy. Wake up turned on and call the girl you just met? She’s probably not even awake yet.

He looked at the clock. Almost 1. The curse of working nights. Morning was gone.
Okay then, she’s up. But likely already started her day. She won’t appreciate a groggy, strange voice in her phone. How about you get yourself together then call.
Arin nodded in agreement with his inner monologue. Sometimes he sounded pretty smart, to himself. He dragged himself out of bed and into his habitual wake up routine. Light workout to get the blood flowing and the muscles prepped for the day. Then a hot shower and dressing. Ready to meet the day.

Afternoon.

Whatever.

*
Arin wanted to tell someone about who he thought he’d met. Viv would freak out. Kat might be willing to listen, depending on her mood. When he headed into the main house he was surprised by the quiet. Vivienne was not around. No loud music from Kat’s room. Though he could smell breakfast. No coffee. He shook his head. Kat will figure out that breakfast requires coffee someday. He set about brewing a pot. With a carafe and his mug in hand, he headed to Kat’s room. He found the door ajar and peeked in. He noticed that both beds had been slept in.

Guests. Interesting.

It didn’t take much detective work to figure out where Kat would be if it wasn’t her room. Arin headed to the computer lab. He tended to avoid that space unless looking for Kat for a reason. It still kind of weirded him out when she sat there, idly chit chatting with seemingly nothing, yet all the computers interacted as if being used at the same time. Arin never knew when Kat was talking to him or one of her machines.

He heard the sound of someone typing on a keyboard as he approached, which was a dead give away for the guest being with Kat. Likely she had to clear a layer of dust off that keyboard for it to be used. Arin wondered who would be allowed this far into their home. The teasing he had in mind for Kat faded as he saw into the room.

Tim rested his chin in one hand and that elbow rested on his knee as he contemplated everything Kat was telling him. A whole other world? Without those dreams I would think she was nuts but....everything felt so real. Tim couldn’t doubt the danger. The woman who had approached them from the alley, though beautiful, in the end didn’t seem like a good person.

“Arthur should be human?” Tim frowned. She makes it sound like we are magnets for weirdos.
He couldn’t help the smirk that formed as Kat talked about Arin and Guinevere. “Sounds to me like Arin just wants a chance to make out with the Queen again.”

Just like that a feeling of betrayal and hurt overcame him. His other half felt divided, torn at what Lancelot had done. He was a brother in arms, a man he fought beside and while he understood the attraction, Guinevere was beautiful, he couldn’t help but feel that Lancelot had been weak to give in. Their relationship had done the kingdom no favors.There was more there. Tim felt, rather Ywain felt close to Lancelot. He was his friend, a dear friend and the adultery between the queen and the knight had cost Ywain more than most others, save Arthur.

Tim frowned and looked pained. He felt suddenly ill at ease in his own skin. He didn’t even know Arin and he felt guilty on top of the other emotions. Not sure I like this whole dual life thing....

“First one...lucky me...”

"Sometimes another chance just lets you try and correct the things that had been done wrong," Arin said as he stepped through the door. He looked over the man in the chair with a mixture of skeptisim and sympathy, then to Kat.

"You brought home a stray?"

Tim just about jumped out of his skin at the sound of the man's voice. He gave him an awkward wave. "I didn't mean anything by it..."

He looked the man over. While he was not what Tim would have pegged for a 'knight', tinted hair and all he felt like he knew him. His very soul knew this man to be a great fighter, a valiant knight and despite what happened a loyal friend.

"Maybe you didn't. That's not important. You think it. Many will. Hell, Arthur and Guin will as well," Arin sighed. The same arguments he'd had with himself replaying in his head.

"In the end, it doesn't matter if you meant it or not. If you think it or not. I have a job to do. And you'll have to put up with me long enough to learn. I'm Eärendil Ablach. Arin for short. Or, Lancelot du Lac. But I suggest you use Arin in public. My other name will get you weird looks."

Tim stood and held out a hand. "Sorry, really. I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to get a handle on everything. Bit unbelievable. Tim...Timothy Matheson."

Arin looked at the outstretched and smiled, "Just a sec with that." He turned to Kat, "He have a flashback yet? He know what's coming when we shake hands?" He turned back to Tim, "You might want to steady yourself."

Tim nodded slowly looking a little ill at ease. "Yeah...had one yesterday at the table. Kinda overpowering." He steadied himself a bit more. "Oh, they ugh, they say I am Ywain..." He looked to Kat questioningly. "This going to be good or bad?"

Kat smiled at Tim's joke, knowing her kind-of-sort-of adopted brother wouldn't appreciate the remark, sensitive as he was about that subject, but finding it funny none the less. She the watched somewhat sheepishly as Arin entered her Kat corner, and Tim all embarrassed trying to apologize. God he was adorable...

"Hey Arin! Yup, can I keep him? Pretty pretty please!" Kat joked back Arin's way.
The conversation lulled on her side as the two became better aquainted, and Arin did his whole brooding hero bit. When the two got ready to shake hands, Tim turned to her for direction, and a a warm little stirring deep in her core was probablly a little too pleased by that, especially since she probably wasn't the one to ask. "Given your history, could go either way." She shrugged.

Then a thought occurred to her. "You guys ever thing that maybe you can direct those flashbacks? Now that you know what's happening I mean." Kat asked curiously. "Maybe if you try to focus on something possitive, like your epic bromance, that'll be what comes up." She suggested with a wink thrown Tim's way.

Tim stared at Kat utterly confused and a bit embarrassed. He turned to look at Arin once more. "Bromance?"

He thought back to how he felt just talking about Lancelot. The feeling of comradery, loyalty and friendship. If Kat was right, that they had some sort of strong connection perhaps they could use that to their advantage. Has to be better than feeling like I am fighting for my life.

He raised an eyebrow at Arin, "What do you think?"

Arin chuckled at Kat's request to keep him, "Sure Kat. You can keep him. I don't know that either of you will be prepared for the other, but that's your problem." He grinned at Tim, "She's excitable. Be careful."

Tim grew flustered, "She...no, I am ugh...it isn't like that." He wasn't entirely sure what sort of context either of them were joking in now. His eyes darted between the two as if trying to figure things out.

"Hey, I thought he was the dog in this hypothetical!" Kat pouted playfully, watching Tim grow flustered with a little too much enjoyment. Yup, definitely an addiction forming.

"Dog?" Tim's eyes went a little wide.

"And a very cute puppy you would make." Kat said with a grin, playfully petting his hair like she would a dog's.

Tim's face grew red. 'So flashback...."

Arin shook his head, "See, already." He stuck out his hand, "Let's see if we can keep this on friendly terms then. Ready?"

Tim nodded slowly, "As ready as I have been with any of this so far." He took a big breath in and took Arin's hand.

There was sweat in their eyes as they sparred. Both men were shirtless and while they went at each other with a force that seemed overly aggressive both men were smiling broadly.

A wooden sword whacked Ywaine's shoulder and he grunted. "Nice shot."

"Nothing nice about it, you left yourself open...again. I keep telling you, you'd think the bruises would help the lesson." Lancelot chuckled.

Ywaine swung his wooden sword out and Lancelot blocked it smoothly. They were opposites, Lancelot smooth and quick while

Ywaine tended to have a heavier hand and slower reflexes. Both men were remarkable fighters in their own way but the two friends were very different.

Ywaine turned and tried to come around Lancelot's side. "What about that lady...the one in the court with the big brown eyes. You should court her Lancelot."

Lancelot sidestepped his friend. "No my thoughts are not on her."

Ywaine sighed an lowered his weapon. "It does you no good making eyes at her. You know that. Marry, have children, it will change this infatuation you seem to have."

"I am not infatuated. She is the Queen, Arthur's wife and I am loyal to them both, as my king and queen. That is it."

Ywaine frowned. "Whatever you say my friend." He felt slightly ill at ease but raised his sword again. "Alright, come on now let's see if you can hit me again."

Lancelot gave him a sideways smile. "Gladly."

Tim gasped and released Arin's hand. He felt hot and sweaty, just as he had been in the flashback. His shoulder felt tender.

"You hit me." He gave Arin a smile.

Arin huffed a breath in, a little winded. He returned Tim's smile, "And I will again if you keep letting your guard down like that.

You think a few centuries is enough to finally let the lesson sink in?"
Tim laughed, though still worked at catching his breath. "I don't know. Guess we will have to pick up where we left off and see."

"Right. And I'm sure Kat would love the show of her, 'bromance'" Arin raised an eyebrow at Kat. "Maybe we need an over eighteen warning?"

Kat stuck out her tongue. "Joke's on you, cause I've got at least three IDs in a drawer somewhere saying I'm twenty-one." Kat shot back, not to be denied a show. "I can do a lot of fun things with a little cleavage and uninterrupted access at a Kinko's."

Tim smirked, "Think you could handle it though? I mean it was very intense. Sweat and swords, no shirts..." It was his turn to join in the teasing now that it wasn't directed at him. "I think your eyes might not be old enough for it. Corruption of a minor." He nodded knowingly.

"I think her eyes would pop out of her head trying to see all the angles at once."
Arin nodded, "Like Tim says, no minor corruption. You wouldn't be able to take it."

Kat's ears started to turn red, though less from embarrassment, and more from irritation over the insinuation that she was a little girl. "Well there's only one way to find out I guess. Shirts off off boys, lets see what we're working with here." Kat returned, upping the ante by gesturing her hand in a by-your-leave motion that demanded compliance.

Tim laughed and rubbed his shoulder. He blushed now, shaking his head. "Demanding little thing isn't she?" He shot a grin at Kat who winked suggestively back.

"Alright, I'm out. You two are bringing it up a level. Not entirely fair Kat, no shirts only flows one way. And Tim, she often doesn't like being called little." Arin chuckled.

Tim nodded, "Gotcha." He gave Kat a wink back. "Sorry."

"Yeah Yeah, go ahead and laugh. I got this whole place rigged to the nines with security cameras. I'll see it all one way or another. This way I get a nice little DVD out of it." Kat grumbled back, though she softened a bit after Tim's wink.

Tim turned beet red. He glanced at Kat as if trying to gauge the truthfulness of her words before looking at Arin. "It was nice to meet you Arin."

"For sure, Tim. I'll let you get settled then we can set up some time for sword work." Arin turned to Kat, "Speaking of invasions of privacy, I may have found someone."

Kat's eyebrow shot up at that. "And? Any clue who we're got?" She asked.

"Well, she's a girl. And it was all flash backy. And it was about Guin and I spent the night dreaming about her. I think I found her." Arin tried to control the excitement. Kat knew he would be but with Tim here, and his comments, Arin didn't want to look over anxious.

"Cool! She hot?" Kat asked, elbowing him encouragingly in the side. "I take it you want me to keep quiet about this with Viv?" Kat asked on a more serious note. Her disapproval with Arin's quest to woo his long lost lady love was no secret.

Tim frowned but said nothing. He had things he wanted to talk to Arin about, about dealing with having what felt like two sets of emotions and memories but now seemed like a bad time. Guinevere... He felt ill at ease, just as he had in the flashback. His frown grew as they talked. Viv doesn't like it and yet he is insistent. This is bad.

Arin nodded, " As much as you would want me to keep quiet about those cameras." He winked. "Just give me time before she finds out who we all are."

Arin showed Kat the napkin with Arey's name and number, "That's her. I'll be calling her later, but I figured you'd want to do your background check stuff."

"Rodger Dodger, cyber stalking will commence." Kat joked back already turning to her computers to put in the comands and get the data crunching.

"So this is what you do when you think you found one of the knights? You background check them? Us...I mean me?"
Arin shrugged, "I'm just along for the ride when it comes to that stuff."

"Sort of." Kat replied. "Viv has these artifacts from all of you that she uses to try and get a read on you guys. From what she gives me, I put into data sets and then using background checks, census data, and tax info, I can usually narrow down a list of candidates who meet that criteria. That's how I found you. Well...technically we bumped into each other at a pizza shop and got attacked by a succubus, but you were still on my list!" Kat explained clinically, and then defended with a furrowed brow."You weren't at your office, and the secretary with the nice rack shooed me off." She finished with a sour look, remebering how she'd laughed like her flirting had been a joke.

Tim ran his hands through his hair. "Right okay.You went to my office..." He shook his head at Kat though he smiled. "Nice rack...I never noticed." His face felt hot as he spoke.

"Yeeeah sure baby cakes, whatever you say." Kat replied with a smug look.

Taking a deep breath Tim looked over at Arin. "So what is the purpose of finding Guinevere? I mean not to take away from this but....wasn't it because of her that things got messed up the first time around? Wouldn't it be better to find Arthur and avoid her?"

"Ooooooooh..." Kat said wincing. 'This is not gonna end well', she thought.

Arin stared at Tim for a moment, "It was not because of her. It was because of my own failings. If I could find her first, we will be able to avoid hurting Arthur. We were meant, more than her and Arthur. If that were clear, Arthur would have the chance to find someone before he was betrayed by me."

Tim frowned, he felt like they had had a similar conversation before. Probably have... "But if we feel what they feel, won't Arthur fall in love with her anyway? He loved her then, won't he still love her now? What if he hates you for taking away the chance of them? What if he refuses to let us help him or even join us because you found Guinevere and have her as your own? Isn't it still betrayal?" He was talking as if he had totally bought into it all and believed everything. The doubt he had seemed to have gone as he spoke. He could feel Ywaine reaching out to Lancelot, trying to talk sense into his friend.

Arin's face blanched, then started turning red, "Because I have to try damnit. If we tried the same thing as before, like you said, we'd end the same way. I'm trying to change the ending, the best way I know how." Arin seethed, he spun around and stormed out of the room. "Tell me when you're ready for battle."

Tim sighed. "Well that went well."

"Yeah...he's a little sensitive on the subject." Kat sighed as she watched Arin storm off. "Look, I know I probably don't have a right to butt in on this, not being one of you guys and all, but try and remember what we talked about last night. You guys are them, but you're also you. Just because you loved someone in a past life doesn't mean you will this time around, and you all deserve a fair shake at fresh starts. He's been eating up with guilt over this his whole life, this is just his way of dealing. What happens happens, but this is his fair shake."

Tim looked at Kat. "You ever wonder how he will take it if she doesn't love him? Or what if she loves Arthur anyway and this time doesn't fall for him? Ever wonder what that will do to a man so eaten up with past guilt that he will do anything he can to change things? I know a thing or two about guilt and this might not end in the way everyone hopes. Fair shake sure but this isn't a fairytale, no matter who we used to be."

He looked to where Arin had gone feeling partially like he should go after him but knowing that was Ywaine's feeling, not his own. He is in a bad spot and I don't envy him. Damned if he gets her and damned if he doesn't.

"People don't just love each other out of the blue for no reason." Kat retorted with a scowl. "And you're right, this isn't a fairytail where people just magically fall in love, residual feelings or not. This is the real world, real and modern, not medieval England. The rules are different and they have a chance to get to know each other again. If she doesn't love him, then he'll get over it, but if he doesn't get a chance to try it's just gonna fester until he can't take it anymore. Arin's like my brother ok, I know how he get about this stuff."

Tim gave Kat a sad smile. "You and I know that. He is very determined, you heard him they were meant more than she and Arthur. I am just saying it might do more damage than good for him to find her. I just hoped it works for him, I do. I just...guilt does strange things, stops you from thinking clearly."

"Yeah...I know. But sometimes, working things out for yourself, making plans, even if they don't work out, it helps. Even if just a little bit." Kat said, her eyes more somber than they'd been in a long time. Don't think about it, don't think about it, she chanted like a prayer in her head before turning back toward the computer, pretending to be checking the data sheets as she composed herself. She hadn't thought about the compound in a long time, but all this talk of guilt was dredging up bad memories. Arin wasn't the only one who'd spent a childhood feeling eaten alive by guilt. Tim put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. He felt a little in over his head but for whatever reason it now felt right.