Who: Carabosse and Oberon
Where: the outskirts of Camlann
When: recently
What: Carabosse has found Oberon's memories and returns them to him. He reacts in a rather unexpected way...


It was dark and quiet on the long stretch of road where they met. On the outskirts of town, away from light and noise, two faeries stood facing one another. It was particularly gloomy this night, clouds covering the stars and blanking out the moon who made many feeble attempts to escape their grasp.

He frowned at her, bit his lip.

She had tears in her eyes, such a peculiar thing for the wicked faerie who felt so little remorse for any of her actions. In her hands was the blue vial, full of his memories. She sighed tremulously and her body shook in her tight bodice. The satin folds of her gown were charmed to remain clean even as they dragged across the dirt and soil. Here in Camlann, she didn't think either of them would stay near so much iron so long, she hated the very dirt. She could feel it in her very bones, the painful allergies brought on by the very idea of the metal nearby.

He took the vial of memories, his own hands were steady and he watched her with a brand of calculating coolness. Obviously she was his dearest friend and he loved her, but in this moment it was clear to the self-serving faerie king that she loved him so much more than he could ever love her. He dropped the vial with little thought, the broken shards of glass skittering across the hard packed earth.

A thin stream of words and deeds worked its way up his body to his waiting nose. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes, letting the lost memories play out for him. He knew these things, knew the lengths he would go to. They were simply a confirmation of a truth he'd been happy to deny for so many years to soothe his ego and unwanted emotions.

She should have known as well. Oberon was not a trifling creature to be held or loved like any normal being. He was in another class, had been from his very birth, which was perhaps why he'd been named king. He was selfless and selfish in the same breath. He would do anything for himself, anything for the good of faerie kind.

The small dagger at his hip was burning in her chest before she could have anticipated. "So quick then?" she asked, her breath leaving her lungs.

He smirked. "You should have known Cara. It couldn't end any other way. I can't have you around and knowing the whole truth."

She closed her eyes, a slight flutter of eyelashes. She wanted to laugh at how stupid she'd been. "Of course," she croaked, blood already soaking into the midnight satin she was so fond of wearing. He hadn't used iron, a sweet gesture even in the act of murder. He'd been thoughtful enough to make her death a little less painful, perhaps a little less permanent if she could shift her shape and fly away to find someone to help.

"Thank you," he said, his memory restored and his feelings subdued. Of course he'd been the one to betray. Of course it had been his idea to imprison Mabb. She had to be taken out; she was a threat to his faeries and a threat to his absolute power. He hadn't intended all the things the faerie council had done once his memory had been erased, once he'd gone through all the motions of being controlled like a lap dog, even as he was pulling his own strings in the strange dance of intrigues. But of course, he felt responsible just the same and should Mabb learn the truth... Her impending wrath sent a shiver up his spine that terrified him and turned him on in the most paradoxical moment of his existence.

Carabosse gasped below him as she slumped to the ground. Her tight dress felt far away as her faerie blood spilled on the soil of Camlann. It wasn't the first spilled here, nor the last should Oberon have his way. She was growing colder and her breathing had become very ragged. "Welcome," she attempted to whisper, though her lips moved wordlessly as her vocal chords refused to work.

Oberon stood over her a few moments longer, he wasn't sure he could watch her die. They'd been friends for so long that this last, long awaited betrayal was becoming harder than he'd expected. Half of him wanted to heal her, half wanted to stab her again and make sure the job was done. He could do neither while he wanted to do both and so walked away, back towards the Sleeping Woods.

And now, the problem of Mabb.

Tags: oberon, carabosse