Caerfeddwidd

The scowl Zac threw with a vengeance in the direction of Arawn's favoured sage was noted by every pair of eyes in the King's hall. His rather undiplomatic expression did not lift as he collapsed into the first empty seat he came across.
All four members of the High Council muttered to themselves and each other in surprise. Surely, this sullen, obviously bad-tempered child could not be the famed Mabon, paragon of princely virtue, lost for fourteen years?!
"Mabon, please remove your sword," the King's voice across the table was low, but the command in it was plainly obvious.
"I apologise Majesty," awkwardly, Zac pulled the sword from its scabbard and dropped it on the floor. He really didn't feel like getting up. Arawn glared at him, but chose to ignore his 'son's surliness.
"Lords Teirnon, Elfed, Hywyn and Morfael, this is my son, the Prince Mabon,"
"How long has he been back in the kingdom?" one with a wispy salt-and-pepper beard turned his heavily accented voice to the King.
"This is his third day with us,"
"And where has he lived in his exile?" another old man, clean-shaven and bespeckled, shifted slightly rheumy eyes in Arawn's direction.
"The Queen believes he has lived in a faraway caer these past years, by the name of Tosa,"
"That's Tulsa, and I'd appreciate it gentleman --" oh, the sarcasm, "-- if you stopped talking about me as if I weren't even here," it was hard keeping the smile under wraps as Arawn struggled visiably with his outraged embarrassment.
"We apologise Mabon, but you have been absent for so long, it will take some time to get used to your presense here," the King's civil tone was strained, but Zac was past caring. The hypocrisy of these people was just unbelieveable.
"Oh yeah, give me a handshake, 'hi, how've you been?' and then conveniently forget about me once you're out of ear-shot. Some welcome! How about I leave you all to your meetings? That's what you want isn't it? I'll go back home, at least it won't take them more than two years to remember I exist!" the four lords' mouths hung comically open, Emrys had his head in his hands and Arawn was turning a worrying shade of red.
"Two years?" the King held his anger back on a leash stretched to break-point.
"Well that's how long Awen's been here isn't it?"
"WHY YOU --!!!"

< Hold it! >

Arawn's outraged tirade halted mid-sentence, the hall's occupants simply froze still. A strange voice seeped through the walls, drifted up from the floor, echoed through the furniture, seemed to come from every direction at once, someone calling from a distance. He couldn't tell if it was masculine or feminine.
"What the fu--!"

< Now why did you have to go and do that? Jesus! >

"Do what? Who are you?!"

< One bloody question at a time! Why did you have to go and get the King so angry? It's not like I can just go back, rearrange a few words, and ping the corn's popped! >

"I . . . beg your pardon?"

< Oh sorry, you're not used to my analogies, are you? Arawn's all worked up now, I can't go back and change it so that he's not quite so pissed with you. >

"Can . . . can I ask, one question, please?"

< Shoot. >

"Are you God?"

< *riotous laughter* Man, I've been called some names in my day, but never that one! *more riotous laughter* Um . . . shit, how can I explain this? Well, I'm not God, for one thing I swear far too much, but as far as you're concerned, I might as well be. >

"Well, who are you then?"

< If you're after names, mine's Lauryn. >

"And?" ('So it's a girl')

< 'And'? I can only hijack this place for so long, you really ought to be asking more important questions than who I am. >

"Um, okay. Why am I the only one who's not frozen?"

< Because you were about to land yourself in some serious shit, and I felt a bit sorry for you. Thought I'd see if there was anything I could do to help you. But if you're just going to bug me with inane enquiries, then you can just lie in the nice little nest you've made and pray Arawn doesn't order the executioner's block be dragged out for you. >

"Wait, wait! Please! Um . . . what do you want me to ask?"

< *chuckles* Oh you're smart Zac. Nobody else has been intelligent enough to ask that one in this bloody backward medieval mess. Why were you so upset when you came into Arawn's lovely meeting? >

"Because Emrys lied to me! He expects me to be some kind of He-Man and go off on some crusade to --!"

< To save Annwfn, yes I know. Who do you think sent Arawn his dream? And trust me, if I'd have thought He-Man was the best person to save Annwfn, then I would have asked Taliesin to bring him here. >

"So why didn't you?"

< Because there's no fun in sending in a He-Man! He draws his magic sword, says 'By the power of Grey-Skull' and five minutes later he's saved the world again. I watched enough He-Man episodes as a kid, I don't need to make any more. Still 'Secret Of The Sword' was good, I still enjoy watching it now. Did you ever see 'Secret Of The Sword'? >

"Um, no. . . ."

< Mmm, might have been a bit old for you. Maybe one of your older brothers saw it. It's a great animated movie, you really ought to see if you can get a copy. >

"I would, if I wasn't stuck in the middle of some fairytale!"

< Oh sorry. I have an awful habit of getting off topic, please forgive me. Where was I? >

"Why I'm here instead of He-Man,"

< Of course. God, Lauryn, sometimes you're such a teeny! Anyway, as I said, no fun in sending in He-Man, then the story's over in half-an-hour. No, I really think people should learn from experiences, rather than just flex their muscles at what they're good at. And you, my friend, I thought might appreciate a few extra lessons in the very interesting subject of negotiation. >

"And why would you think that?"

< Because you're too young to be a warrior and Taylor's better suited to dealing with metaphysics. Anyway, you're a people person right? >

"I guess,"

< Well, you'll get to meet lots of people here. I mean come on, three days and you've already got Awen worshipping the ground you walk on! There's not many people who could do that. >

"Lauryn?"

< Yep? >

"Why am I going out to kill whatever this darkness is if I'm here just to learn about negotiating? I'm not exactly the kind of person who runs into battle,"

< There'll be warrors aplenty in your little travelling party, where you're going you'll need all the diplomatic skills you can get, so I suggest you learn them well. >

"I'm not liking the sound of this,"

< Oh come on, where's your sense of adventure? >

"Lost on one too many roller-coasters,"

< Don't give me that! You love roller-coasters! >

"No I don't!"

< Well I'm the one in charge here, and I say you do, so neh! Not that you'll have to worry about it here. Unless you wanna build one yourself and plug it into a tree. >

"What?"

< In-joke, never mind. Anyway, we still have our present problem of what to do about Arawn. Got any brilliant suggestions handy? >

"Let me get this straight, you can supposedly control whether or not I like roller-coasters, but you can't put the King in a better mood?"

< You know, I really hate council meetings. I must get it from my Mum. All they do is talk about women, food-stores and trade. I suppose I could just fast-forward to the end of the meeting. You'll have said everything Arawn wanted you to say about Tulsa -- they won't take any notice, of course -- they'll have talked their food-stores and trade sanctions to death, yatter, yatter, yatter, we're outside this bloody hall and all's well. >

"Sounds good to me!"

< You do realise that everything has its price? >

"And what's yours?"

< Permission to add a little fun. Arawn's going to need something to cheer him up. >

"Hey, why would I say no to that?"

< You have no idea what my definition of 'fun' could mean for you. >

"Right now, I don't give a rat's, just get me out of this damn meeting!"

< Okay, but remember you asked for it. No whining to me later on, promise? >

"Promise,"

< Good. >

Zac blinked. He was standing outside the King's hall, staring down the bare, devoid corridor. Four High Coucil members walked in the company of servants, being led to their designated rooms. The door opening beside him diverted his attention. A jovial Arawn stepped out.
"Ah, my son, it is a noble thing you do for Annwfn this day,"
"I . . . anytime," a few seeds of doubt found fertile soil inside him; what on earth had he gotten himself into, dealing with this not-God?
"You will be a great leader of men one day Mabon, Ceridwen-willing I live to see it," the man looked on top of the world. What had he 'agreed' to? Zac gulped, an odd sense of forboding growing within him.
He was granted a fatherly smile ('Oh God, it must be bad!'), and the King was off, almost at a run. Hurrying to proclaim their 'son's great deed to his wife, no doubt. Five minutes of a council meeting had turned him off politics forever.
'I'll never vote again'
Two steps was as far as he got to finding either Awen or Meadbh and something more interesting to do; the door opened again. Emrys stumbled out, with a haggard face, leaning quite heavily on his rowan staff.
"Emrys? Are you okay?" manners told him to offer a hand.
"No, my Lord, I'm alright, I'm alright, but . . . sweet Ceridwen," the man would have fallen had Zac not seen him waver a split-second beforehand.
"Emrys, what's wrong?"
"You . . . you bargained with . . . how do we get out of this now?"
"Pardon?"
"You bargained with her!"
" 'Her'? You mean Lauryn?"
"Yes!"
"So?"
"You don't ever bargain with her! She could take everything of yours, and you could do nothing to stop her!"
"But she said her price was just to add a little fun, what's wrong with that?"
"Fun for her lad! What is fun for her is most definitely not fun for the rest of us!"
"Emrys, what have I gotten us into?"
"I . . . three of the four of the High councillors have . . . daughters. . . ."
"Oh shit. . . ."
"You're to . . . to be married to one of them, come summer,"
"Oh shit!!" he could hear her amused chuckles wafting gently from the walls.

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