Peredhil

"Oooh! Fire!" The huge hoary hairy beast cowered back from the brandished brand. Was it being sarcastic? Could the bulge in its belly be Derrik?

For Mynx, the next few weeks passed in a blur of boredom and fascination. She quickly determined that if she was silent, Peredhil felt compelled to fill the silence. Out poured a babbling mixture of facts, histories, observations, and stories. Often he'd call in his sons and bodyguards to establish a point or help him remember a sequence. Quietly observing, she quickly formed her own impressions of all of them, but particularly Peredhil. He was an oddly shy, private Elf, keenly interested in others. His ability to look at a person and evaluate them, see their essence, and motivations, was incredibly accurate, but so natural he did it as easily as he breathed. He had an impartial, mentally decided love for others that didn’t blind him to their flaws and faults, as much as illuminate them to his gaze, at which point he simply accepted them without judgment. She found that he secretly believed that he was incredibly boring, and that he was so other-focused that quite often he forgot about himself. From the others she found that when Peredhil gave advice, he adjusted it to fit his model of the listener, and so thoroughly removed himself from the equation (so as not to distort things), that he actually didn’t listen to himself and usually had no recollection of what he’d said, only that it had been meant for the person. He was so persistently selfless that the other four made an odd cult of protecting him from himself. Definitely a cult of love, if that term could be applied to the coldly practical Elladan. She started to keep a journal which she'd scribble in furiously on occasion, often to his perplexity though he was far too Polite to ask what she was doing. From the rambling comments Peredhil let drop, she gained deep insights into his sons and bodyguards. He often disagreed with their choices or manner of doing things, but he took choice and free will so seriously as to let someone make poor choices until it killed them. If he had a religion, that was a foundation – give advice if solicited, but allow others to choose for themselves. And he was a very lonely person. His selflessness was the ultimate emotional shield; he reflected back others so perfectly, in a loving way, that it was extremely difficult to see beyond that. Once she realized that, her curiosity peaked and she began a determined pursuit of the person inside. Which wasn’t as easy as it might have seemed, given they were forced to be in proximity at all times. He was an extremely patient and genuinely interested listener, with keen insights and observations, and she found herself relating not just her adventures, or answering a “how did you get THAT scar” question, but relating the feelings she'd had, or the reasons why she'd acted as she'd done. In the dark of the night, it had become her habit to snuggle up tightly against his body. It scattered all his careful barriers to the winds. She suspected that he viewed his body as a necessary price to carry his mind, and her touch somehow forced him into physical awareness, and an embarrassed Peredhil was just adorable. His repression of sexuality was nearly absolute – he gave the most bone-melting massages possible – but he considered himself unattractive and refused to “force” his attentions on anyone. Which apparently included his wife. And yes, he did want her, it turned out, but was waiting on courtship so as not to “take advantage” of their enforced proximity. That his body responded to her despite any of his attempts to suppress it was a sure sign that when he said she was attractive, he meant it. Not that he'd lie... but it was nice to have reassurance. She'd asked him why he thought she was beautiful, at one point, and he'd gotten his thoughtful look, and beginning at her ears, explained every point of beauty (in his eyes), and how they related to the whole “package”. When he'd paused, then began in on describing the beauty of her mind, aura, and feelings, she'd had to cut him off. She'd felt too much like a tiger being dissected for a lecture. "Got it," she thought to herself, "he feels it, but he isn’t just saying it." It was one night, late in the night with him quietly petting and stroking her hair, that she’d told him about Skielah. He'd held her the rest of the night. But mixed with the endless talking on all subjects were moments of restless activity. At first it was her prowling in circles around the chambers, him trailing in amusement after her, gently holding her tail. She was recovering much faster than Peredhil, soon was doing stretches and exercises. Before the week was gone, she was sparring with shadows, with Peredhil as a second shadow, mirroring her advances and retreats so seamlessly she sometimes forgot he was there. Ever the teacher, Peredhil began having Elladan and Elrohir come in and “fight” in slow-motion, at counted numbers, to demonstrate strokes and counters that would fit her style. It was a casual comment of Elladan’s that informed her that, of the family, their father was still the best swordsman. Which led to all sorts of stories about his warrior youth, born in Gondolin, and the battles in which he'd participated. He used illusions to show the battlefields and tactics. It was in private that she learned that he still blamed himself for failing to convince Isildur to destroy Sauron’s ring. He forgave others easily, but himself, very rarely. She fit right in with the other four in teasing him mercilessly, which he always accepted with a smile and grace. She began to wonder if he even had a temper, until she saw it unleashed. It was Elladan, of course. He had inherited Peredhil’s ability for insights to people, but for him they were weaknesses for exploitation. And it was over her. Peredhil had warned the others, when he felt they were crossing the line between teasing and being rude, where she was concerned, a few times, but they’d been delivered with his usual mild requesting style. But when Elladan made a crude observation about whether she'd “gone into heat” on Peredhil, it wasn’t a mild response. Peredhil had stood in perfect silence, but all softness was gone. It was a stern Elf-Lord, with a flickering circlet of crackling power around his brow who commanded his son coldly, “You will not speak of my wife in that manner. Ever.” It felt as if all the air in the room had fled, and she was panting as the heat of his anger filled the room, even though she wasn’t the focus of his wrath. From the defiant look on his face, Elladan wasn’t impressed. There was a bright flash, and suddenly where Elladan had stood, there was a toad. “Take your brother somewhere to reflect on his ways,” Peredhil had directed, then turned and seemed to shrink into the Elf she knew. “I'm so very sorry you had to witness that. I do apologize; there is never an excuse for losing my temper. May I do anything for you?”

She wanted something! Quickly, Elrohir and Elladan were dispatched with strict orders. To avoid offending their hosts, they dined in their chamber. He'd had the boys pick up a variety of foods, Beef Wellington, scallops, sirloin cooked to different degrees, veal, and fried chicken, along with buttered garlic mashed potatoes and a stir-fry of vegetables. Once they'd honed in on her preferences, he could order more appropriately. The twins bore it all gracefully, although Elladan kept snickering and making snide remarks. If was utterly baffling to him that she refused to eat unless he matched her bite for bite. He was fine, it was her needs that mattered right now. Other than his sons and bodyguards, no one fussed over him. He was much more comfortable as the caretaker. Throughout dinner, he asked questions about her adventures away from the Pen Keep, seeking to know more about this woman in whose company he found himself. Later, when it came time for bed, they looked at each other warily. Peredhil finally arranged things so that they slept on different sides of the sheet, close enough to reach out for the other, but not touching. Being listless and exhausted didn't matter as much if the goal was sleep. Since he was an Elf, and not mortal, he didn't sleep as such, and spent a bit of time observing and trying to categorize why she was so beautiful to him. It suddenly occurred to him that if she were to wake with him staring at her, she might get the wrong impression. Laying on his back, he hummed ancient Elven tunes and began to wander the Paths of the Mind. He came back to himself with a jolt. A warm furry leg was thrown across his waist, an arm over his chest, and a head nestled against his neck, all vibrating with purrs. Suddenly, the sheet seemed very very thin. He was afraid to move. What if she woke and thought he was trying to molest her? Consummate the marriage? His traitoress body, which *should* have been too weak for this nonsense, wouldn't help his protestations of innocence. It was a *very* thin sheet. He took shallow breaths and finally discovered what mortal sleep was when he drifted off into unconsciousness. Mynx woke to a warm body spooning against her back, one hand circling lightly over and over on her hip, the other somehow managing to stroke her hair and rub her neck. All this despite a baritone snore. Either it was early morning and his bladder was full, or he genuinely did think her attractive. With a mischievous grin, she arched her back enough to free her tail, then ground back against him. Just how polite WAS Peredhil? She needed to know how far he intended to push this whole marriage thing now, while he was still relatively weak. She could tell to the second when he woke. One moment the snoring and cuddle, then next a strangled "excuse-me-I-am-so-sorry-I-did-not-mean-to-take-advantage-of-you-Ma'am!!!" as he sprang from bed with an agile inhuman grace - and immediately collapsed to the floor.

Getting Peredhil dressed was a bit tricky until Mynx wrapped her tail around either his ankle or wrist, whichever wasn't in use. The tailored suit hung on his emaciated frame like on clothing hangers. At least the socks and shoes fit. A thought hit her. "Just how long will it take for us to each have our own life-force again, anyway?" "Oh, should only be a week or two. I've always been a quick healer, and you're in great shape. Uh, I mean, yes, you look lovely, but you're a very healthy woman. Not that you're not feminine." He stammered to a stop and turned red. Elrohir had facepalmed and was bent double, shoulders shaking in restrained laughter. From one of the corridors, Elladan barked in laughter, then fell silent. Peredhil ignored them all. "Elladan, Elrohir, where are Guido and Nuncio?" "Elladan had them, Dad," came Elrohir's quick reply. "Alright, 'Dan. Take us to them. We need to rest." "Can I cheat, like you do?" Peredhil eyed him coolly. "Can you?" he retorted. It didn't take 'Dan long to answer that one. "On our way, Dad." Words ensued.

Peredhil managed to make himself stop babbling by biting on his finger. The last time he'd been this nervous was - He didn't REMEMBER the last time. He didn't get nervous. But those large silver eyes completely disengaged his thinking from his voice! He listened to himself say all the wrong things. Needed to get a grip, distance himself. Smooth. Controlled. He wondered where he'd left his sunglasses. Those always looked cool in the mirror. He glanced at her and decided perhaps he should put them on HER. Did she have to giggle everytime she looked at him!? "Oh cheese and crackers. I just noticed I'm naked. Did you notice I'm naked? I need to not be naked." He bit his finger again to stop babbling. "ELROHIR, GET ME SOME CLOTHING!" Still some ways off, Elrohir gave Elladan a penny. He nearly always won these petty little bets. "Why," Elrohir whined, "does he always yell for me?" "Because you all know I'd give him a cloak of Lothlorien? Remember Sam describing Frodo, buck-naked except a cloak? Funny image. Naked hobbit with furry feet." Shooting 'Dan a look of pure disgust, Elrohir hasted toward the wardrobe caves.

Elladan and Elrohir finished using the Toranga feathers to clean the cloaks. It had taken a while, but the longer they waited, the better as far as they were both concerned. After they carefully stored them back in the case, they started walking back to the entrance. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, 'Dan?" "Doubtful, but you should try. It's amusing." "This is huge! He's finally let go of Mom and is moving on with life. Just over 9,000 years." "I was wondering when he'd realize he's naked, his other marriage was arranged, and he is creator and Emperor of the 'Friend Zone'. This should be highly amusing to watch." "Barbarian." "Intellectual." The continued their unhurried amble, passing insults back and forth idly.

Hug! What? Whispers from off-stage. But... Hrrumph. Fight. Individuals or groups.

"Yeah, the Cook was fat enough for two people!" The joke broke the unease, and they settled into a comfortable silence. Until a deep snarling voice interjected, "Two people! I get it!" Standing deeper in the cave was a three-meter humanoid covered in shaggy white hair, laughing merrily through fangs.

His lips were already chapped; he was trying to breathe only through his nose. But the cold made his eyes water and nose run, which made his snot freeze a bit on each breath. It had warmed enough to snow last week, but plunged deeply again that night. He had no hat or cap, and his long shaggy hair just wasn’t enough. The bag was heavy enough he had to hold it tightly. He switched hands frequently just to let blood flow back to the chilled fingers huddled in his gloves. He was, of course, the only one on the street. Even the pimps couldn’t convince the whores to come out. There weren’t any cars with tinted windows prowling tonight anyway. No hot eyes with warm air gushing through a half-open window; he wondered if the marks realized the flock of whores huddling close to talk and tease were just trying to warm themselves on the furiously working heater. Why he had held onto this job, he wasn’t certain any more. Family tradition meant little when he was the last. He used to think he made a difference, was appreciated, but the rising cost of insurance meant he was just breaking even lately. He shook his head heavily in disgust at the memory of the last woman who had sued him. She’d told the judge she liked him and he’d given good quality work – but she wanted the free money and that’s what insurance was for, right? Well, that was stupid. Her and the head shaking – now his earlobes were sticking through his hair and he needed to set the bag on one of these stoops, arrange his hair over his ears again, and with his luck, they’d probably break off in his hands, too frozen to bleed. He picked his bag back up with a sigh. What kind of an idiot still made house-calls to deliver a baby anyway?

Rooted in the earth's blood, Watered by the sky's dew, I stretch my arms in joy; Greet the dawning of the new.

Just finished "Shifted" by Caitlyn Mitchell http://www.amazon.com/Caitlyn-E.-Mitchell/e/B00J2I5PKG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1 If, like me, you like well-developed characters that stay "true" to themselves in their actions, interactions, and growth, check this out. If, like me, you enjoy solid well-researched "world-building", check this out. Her grasp of the flora and fauna of 1860s England would've been fascinating enough to keep me reading, even if I hadn't liked the story. Amazing grasp of interesting detail, instead of detail just for the sake of padding words. If, like me, you enjoy intelligent use of Fae and magic, you definitely need to check this out. This is the story of the "Beauty and the Beast" the way it should've been done originally. But just because you know one of the inspirations, don't think you know it all...

Peredhil's eyes widened and he looked down at their clasped hand and paw. He'd completely forgotten. "Oh. Yes. that's right. Sons, I'll have this conversation with you. Later. You should put those cloaks away." Mynx managed to keep a straight face as she watched the flee. "May I show you around, or would you rather sit? I... um... I have something I should discuss with you." Mynx smiled weakly. "If this is about me getting you out of that place - well, causing enough trouble that we were able to get out together, I suppose - then there's nothing to discuss." She glanced around to make sure Elrohir wasn't within earshot. "The Pen Keep was a good place to be for a long time, and I know how much of that can be attributed to you. I'd have done what I could to help you for free." "Yes. Well, thank you. Actually, it is quite a different matter entirely, you have my gratitude, but I'll leave your deal to you and my son." He paused, and looked every where but Mynx. "I, yes. Indeed. As a matter of fact. You see. Nothing for it but to. Let me begin by apologizing." He glanced at Mynx, but saw only total bafflement. "Yes. You know we're sharing one life-force between us. We were both so wounded and stubborn, that we wouldn't let the other die. Thank you by the way. But, as an unexpected consequence, well. heh, this is actually quite funny in a way, you see. In the Elven way, I some what accidentally married you. But I have no expectations and I'll not pressure you!" He ran out of words and just looked at her hopefully.

It was a day for surprises, Elrohir mused. Dad finally let go of Mom. Dad ends up accidentally marrying his mercenary trying to unselfishly (not the surprise) save her life. Dad is able to Portal straight into the Vault without having to go on a multi-Planar scavenger hunt for all the Keys first. Which might be the worst. He was looking either to have more time to arrange a story with his brother, or, in the best of all worlds, die before having to explain. Elladan was slightly in shock. Dad CHEATED. He had a way into the Vault directly. Dad CHEATED?! When they'd set up the Vault they'd made certain there could be no direct route. He'd worked out the randomizing math for the Keys and been so pleased when he found it. CHEATED. Of course, he had an entire universal intelligence to help him, and he was Portal-savvy enough to have noticed that it had been the first step through, but still. CHEATED. Peredhil the Polite. He shook his head in disbelief. Of course, Dad would probably be cranky about the cloaks, but as long as he didn't kill them to make his point, the rest could be survived. CHEATED. Mynx had always tended to travel lightly, keeping enough to meet her needs and little more. However, confronted with the enormity of the Vault, she did grip Peredhil's hand more tightly. Near the door were large dumpsters containing coins of various precious metals and materials. Beyond that were crystal caverns of artifacts. It was the hoarder's dream of three bored Elves over ten thousand years. A dragon would probably orgasm just at the sight. "Elladan found this solitary moon orbiting around a rogue dwarf - it's currently between galaxies, which make the math tricky. He and Elrohir hollowed it and imported the atmosphere and the best of our collections and gave it to me as a present. If you see something you'd like, just ask. I need to discuss a small matter of ownership and manners with my sons..."

"Guido, Nuncio! Push some tables together!" Peredhil beamed at the arrivals and absently putting a hand on Mynx's neck. He'd always had a bad habit of massaging whomever was in front of him, which had led to legal charges on a few worlds, but his fingers positively itched to feel her fur. With a few waves of his hands, suddenly the Cabaret was brightly lit, with small party lights lining the tables, windows, and doors. A mental nudge to the Kitchen and soon savory smells wafted in. The Jukebox began playing discordantly, and he hastily turned it off again. He'd given Wyvern a small fortune to buy and stock that, and it never had worked correctly. "Tanny, Degorram, It is so delightful to see you again. I hope you don't mind the modifications?" Mynx sighed. She knew without turning to look that he was looking and feeling genuinely concerned. Silly Elf.

Elrohir knelt by his father's side in concern. Elladan brandished his sword at Mynx, instead, and demanded, "What have you done to him!" Mynx rolled her eyes and snarled weakly. Propped on Elrohir's knee, Peredhil admonished 'Dan gently. "It's a temporary side-effect. We're currently sharing one life force; we were both wounded rather badly, and neither one of us was willing to let the other die. 'Ro, if you'd move my hand to her paw? Thank you. I currently have an abundance of Power, which is a very different matter. If no one minds, shall we continue this somewhere else?" Mynx rolled her eyes at Peredhil, but kept her thought to herself: "If no one minds - and he is actually taking a vote." The heat was starting to mount, the Volcano obviously straining NOT to erupt, and he was worried about interrupting a family moment. She carefully didn't think about the whole life-force issue. As soon has his hand touched her, he lithely rose and offered her a hand up. She politely bared her teeth in what could reasonably be called a smile, and accepted. Once he was certain she was steady, he raised his left hand and a blue star began to shine through it. Squinting against the light, she heard him delay again. "Elladan. Elrohir. Are those the LOTHLORIEN CLOAKS? I thought I'd made it quite clear how I felt about those." "DAD! VOLCANO!" "I CAN EXPLAIN!" She soooo wished she could see Pointy-Ears' expression right now... "You will." Funny, she'd never thought of Peredhil as menacing before. Not that he raised his voice. Actually, he dropped to a flat whisper. A hint of disappointment? She was still giggling at the thought of them being grounded at the age of Improbably Ancient when Peredhil spoke a firm WORD!

The twins drew a deep breath, then began together with a "WHAT?!" before devolving into a confused babble of questions. Peredhil used the time to catch his breath. In his arms, Mynx yawned, turned and snuggled into him, and began a slight buzz too light to be named a snore. Peredhil held up a finger and commanded silence. They trailed off with a muttered "what about Mom?" from 'Ro and a practical "does she know?" from 'Dan. "When I thought you dead and me dying, I came to peace with your mother, and myself. No, she doesn't know yet. Really, if she has some sort of ceremonies we're just mated I suppose. But, in the manner of our kind, we shared essences more deeply than I'd ever imagined, and I can only assume this feeling is being "in love". I'm not going to be rude; I'll try to woo her and hope she accepts the idea, however, as far as I'm concerned, I'm married to her. I hope she doesn't mind." Both sons hid their faces in their hands at that, an epic double-twin-double-hand facepalm. This entire world is about to slip. The entity said. A shame, but I have fed well. Of course, if any of you are burdened by memories I would be all too happy to assist. The twins spun to face the entity, swords drawn, but halted at a sharp word from Peredhil. "This is a friend of Mynx, I believe," he explained, then addressed the entity, "We're safe for a few more minutes. I asked the Volcano not to implode for a bit, and it agreed. Aren't you the quintessential incarnation of a concept, like Eternity, Death, or Coyote? Odd to find you here. May I help you find your way?" The Lady-Cat leads an interesting life. "Really! So you know her well. Wonderful, if you have a moment, I'd love to hear more about her past. I've developed a sudden fascination." I would be willing to spend your remaining 119 seconds here telling you part of what I know if you let me have your memories before you die? "No, we have a deal," Came a purred sleepy voice. Mynx yawned, blinked, and stiffened at the feel of a hand stroking her hair.

Peredhil tried to shake away the annoying voice, which thundered an incrementing count every few seconds into his headache. He focused into time to see the demon absorbed, and feel the utter relief the absence of its horror made in his emotions. He was weaker than he'd been in millennia, close to death, unable to pull power from the environment and quite unwilling to take any from the others present. His sons and bodyguards were either dead or their awareness had been stolen. He felt a slow swelling of anger that eased his awareness of his pain. In the clarity it brought, he became aware of the entity, who observed him quite curiously. He had a feeling it would have offered to share popcorn with the Tribunal if it had any, such was its amused fascination. It was splitting its attention between himself, and someone else. Lifting his head and rolling it to the side, he realized that he was floating unsupported in the air, and off to his left, also floating, was a very wounded Mynx from the Pen Keep! As soon as he became aware of her, her pain washed over his raw lacerated Senses, followed by a wave of determination from the tigress. Blinking slowly, he realized he was the focus of her intent and gaze. He managed a weak (ghastly to behold and so fragile) smile to reassure her. She didn't seem reassured. "I've been hired to rescue you, P'. Wait for a moment and I'll catch my breath." Her brave words were belied by the frothing blood at her side with each labored breath, and the steady patter of blood dripping from her coat. Another wave of pain assaulted him as she tried to shift her body, and he winced in sympathy as a few splinters of bone fell from her side. Shattered ribs, undoubtedly. She was going to kill herself trying to rescue him. That thought was... unacceptable. It would be rude to allow that. He had to help her. Even if it killed him. He was old, she had many years to live. Ruthlessly using those and other thoughts to spur himself, he managed to swing his feet to the side and slip off whatever force had held him. It was reassuringly solid to his desperately clutching hands as his weakened legs collapsed and he tried to slide TOO far. He wished that lunatic would count silently. With a grimace of determination, he pushed off and moved/fell toward where she floated. He managed to clutch her invisible platform without clutching her - he'd been very afraid he'd either pull (or push) her to the floor, or just put his hand through the enormous gash in her side. He kept his face impassive when he realized he could see part of her spine. How the jalapenos was she alive, better yet conscious?! She was more stubborn than... than... well, than him, to be honest. (Behind him, the entity leaned forward. If it had remembered to breathe, it would've held its breath in anticipation. This was fun! Obviously one would die, and its money was on the Lady-Cat. There was no way she'd let the Elf give his life to her - he was the contract. It wished the Tribunal was the type to bet, but the Tribunal could see into the futures, which meant it was absolutely boring in that respect.) He'd been a healer for much too long to have illusions. He could save her, but it would take all he had left. If he wasn't cut off from all power, this would be a mere inconvenience. How ironic it should be like this after all these years. Bracing himself on one hand, he put the other into her wound and Opened himself. He would have to hope that he had enough power left that the shock of matching her aura and life force wouldn't kill them both. If it didn't, he'd match and Resonate, then heal. He focused and flowed into her, and almost out her other side. There was no resistance, no disharmony. They were a perfect match at the deepest levels, an indicator not that they were identical, but that they matched, they resonated, as one harmonic. Gleefully, for his life would not be wasted, he poured himself into her. As she poured HERSELF into HIM. "Damnation woman, let me save you!" he thought at her furiously, unaware that with a slight change of gender, she was thinking the same thing. Fortunately, neither one was a mind-reader, and both were tenacious beyond all reason, and together they had almost enough for the Healing. Almost. He gently disengaged and started to let the blackness take him. SIX HUNDRED THREE. The Tribunal was gone, and with it it took all magical barriers and constraints. The Prison was broken. A number of things happened simultaneously. Elladan and Elrohir suddenly felt their life-bonds with Peredhil snap back into place - and began killing guards as they charged the Volcano. The Captor became aware of an unfettered Power where once it had a giant blind spot in its volcano, and lashed at it. And Peredhil's Threads came back. Just a few short of a million Threads, each to a power great or small, always held latent in the Un that separates universes and Planes, flared into life as the strike hit and parted around him, brushing Mynx. Mynx screamed. Peredhil screamed with her, still bonded deeply. Something had HURT HIS LOVE. Pulling Power with both hands, including a thread to this Volcano placed eons ago during his travels, he blew the Captor several Planes away. When his sons arrived, he was stroking Mynx's hair and ears tenderly, with a look of wonder on his face. "Hullo 'Dan, Hullo 'Ro. Forgive me for not standing, but my wife is recovering, and I want to be the first to tell her when she wakes." Their expressions were priceless, and he began to laugh helplessly.

She blacked out for just a moment. Which meant she watched helplessly through a haze of blood as things seemed to go into slow motion. From her new vantage near the floor, she couldn't see the toad over the machine, but she could see the metal automaton holding an ancient rune-encrusted stone axe, currently matted with her blood and fur, as it advanced slowly toward her. A crystal plate set into its "face" blinked in the same patterns as the machine was flashing. She tried to move, and bent around her side, coughing blood and feeling a "wheeze" against the arm pressing against her side. Sucking chest wound. She needed to move, to attack. The contract wasn't complete. Black dots danced a slow waltz around the center of her vision as she willed her paw to tighten on her sword. The automaton ignored the scream of metal behind it as the metal of the door showed hands pushing into it, like hands into water. When the door was ripped completely out of the frame, the flashing of lights in its face changed and it turned around to face the Cyclops. The short figure looked past it at Mynx as it caught the axe in its down-swing and held it motionless. "This pays for my release," he said, ripping the arm off. Unable to repress a bubble of humor at how ridiculous it was to bargain at the moment, she weakly flapped a paw to indicate her consent. Catching the other arm in a swing, it threw the automaton across the room into the main banks of the Machine, which began flashing wildly in yellow and red. With a small wave at Mynx and a wink? (With only one eye, could he wink?) He turned and strode toward the Prison's entrance, walking around the figure of the golden man, now reunited with his staff, striding toward the mayhem. The golden head with its three faces, one masked, the opposite partially masked, and one uncovered, floated inches above the torso. A great glowing blue gem was set into the metallic skin, lighting the room as he stood in the doorway. It raised the staff, and she gently floated off the floor and toward him. She could see the toad gripping its platform with all four tentacled legs as it was ripped free from the support structure to float toward him. Still dangling wires that pierced his shaven skull, Peredhil floated in the same direction. The entity, its back to the door, straightened and all its darkness streaked back to join it as it slid under Mynx's body and tried to hide. The released bodies of its victims lay unmoving on the floor, abandoned. Inexorably, the entity was pulled out next to Mynx, coiling into a clot of darkness that hurt the eye. Cousin? Let's not be hasty... The staff thumped onto the floor, and they all halted a few feet from the waiting figure. I have been pulled from my duties. I must render judgment before I return. Each face briefly rotated to the front, then the bare face spoke again. The Tribunal has judged. You were summoned. Cousin. You have kept faith. No justice is necessary. You are a mercenary. The accountability is to your contract holder. You will be untouched by the Tribunal. It is reckoned to the account that you freed us. You are a prisoner, as were we. Your threads are bound to the mercenary's. We will allow her to continue and what might be will be. You must waken to choose. The wires writhed out of Peredhil's skull, and fell with a tinkle to the floor. The collar flowed as if it were water, off his neck, across the room and into the staff. Peredhil's eyes began to flutter, and he resumed his quiet moans. You are an abomination, and your master has invested heavily in your creation. It is accountable for the inconvenience of our capture. We will remove you and the three Mind-Locked Planeswalkers entering the prison. We will remove the prison that it may not capture another, after a delay of 603 heartbeats, that choice may be made. We will then return to our duty. The toad turned into dark hues of light and flowed into the staff. From behind the Tribunal, three streaks of light circled it and were also absorbed. One.

A smash that foretold the crash of the ship's hull against the jagged rocks. The icy grey waters took Halfhand Harry and most of the S.S. Minnow's crew as well. There were seven survivors.

Chicken feathers make me down comforters to keep me warm, But I can't get down off an elephant. Duck feathers make me down comforters to keep me warmer, But I can't get no down off Chumbawamba . But I love to get down with you. New line: Cuddling a sleeping elf

In all the worlds, In all the galaxies, In all the universes, In all the Planes, I sought you. In all the worlds, In all the galaxies, In all the universes, In all the Planes, I found you. In all the worlds, In all the galaxies, In all the universes, In all the Planes, I chose you. Yes, you - Pikachu.

This incandescent rage, I feel (Too large for words or worlds), Destroying galaxies would not release enough. The entire universe, I hurl (I stride the Planes like pavement), At the object of my wrath. Left the damnable Lego™, you did (This has happened far too much), Boobytrapping the path to the loo. New line: The way I feel

Chasing trouble - She let me catch her, She was wild - I could match her. Whirlwind time - We spun around there, Eternal now - We just didn't care. I was noon - She was the dawn, At sunset, She had up and gone. First line: "The smile is fake"

In Its massive throne room a BEING stirred. Something... wrong? Unusual? A stirring of forces outside the Pattern? Its attention began to focus for a moment... Then It forgot why. Still uneasy, It ran a rippling check on the Boundaries but they were unbroken, with no signs of tampering. One of the prisoners? Had It left a vulnerability? It had fed on deities' power, but been unable to take their abilities. It still was limited in Its defenses to what It could imagine an attacker could do. It doubled the strength and frequency of the patrols, and sent three of the Brain-Locked Planeswalkers into the Prison to inspect Its security. Having a blind spot in Its own fortress had made It uneasy from the start, but that had been necessary for the capture, and either Brain-Locking, or stripping and destroying of Its victims. If necessary, it would reabsorb the prison and trigger the Purge. It had had to start over collecting life three times already, but each time It had been more powerful for the destruction.

They crept forward across the broken terrain, moving slowly; motion attracts the eye. The aerial patrols were overhead when they stopped. Poor tactics on the enemy part - they were regular as clockwork. They both practiced sighting targets, one after another, working from the outside in. Hoods up, magical senses extended, they settled into a relaxed watchfulness for any indication of Mynx.