Oberon had hurried back to his bower and the Sleeping Woods. He felt that much had changed since his betrayal of Carabosse and the return of his memories.
He knew he had to tell Mabb. They hadn't spoken or seen one another in a long time. He'd been brooding for so long he'd cut all of his women out of his life. He also knew he couldn't tell her everything he'd learned. It would be quick thinking, on his feet. She'd notice if there was a delay in his delivery of the news. He'd have to work up his story on the way to find her, carefully pick out the truths he could share. Perhaps the news of Carabosse's death would be such a joy to her that she wouldn't notice the rest.
He could only hope as he paced his bower and wondered where he should start looking for her.
As it was, it was she who found him. She'd been busy for days again, looking for those last two fae who had betrayed her and Oberon. But she'd had no success and she missed her love. Her hunt could wait.
His bower was the first place she looked, and fortunately enough, there he was. "My love," she said by way of greeting as she emerged from the dark wood. "Have you missed me?"
He had a seductive smile on his face, a come hither look in his eyes. It was quick and smooth, a little gesture of longing. "Terribly," he whispered as he beckoned her to him. "I have been tying up loose ends," he said with a little twist of lips that belied how exciting those loose ends would be for her.
"Loose ends?" she queried, curious as she drifted over to the fae king. Pale arms slipped around his neck and she smiled up at him. "Tell me, what have you been up to?"
He leaned into her, his body saying so much more than the words about to come forth. "I have been stalking in the wilds of Camlann," he whispered darkly. "Above the stores of deadly iron there, an old enemy was hiding and easily dispatched." He was smiling in his eyes, devious and drawing out this moment of delivery.
His excitement was catching and Mabb's eyes took on a spark of real interest, like a child listening to an exciting story. "Such courage, my king, to brave such a place. Who was this enemy that deserved your wrath?"
"The witch who split us asunder," he said, choosing his words so carefully. "She who brewed the sleeping potions. She who no longer takes breath." He trailed a finger up her arm and smiled over her languidly. "The worst betrayer of them all."
Mabb's eyes went wide as she deciphered his words, fingers tightening in the hair at his nape. "Carabosse?" she breathed, a mixture of disappointment and delight in her voice. "You've killed Carabosse?" She scarcely dared believe it, the witch Oberon's oldest and dearest friend. But he seemed pleased. Perhaps... "She's really dead?"
"I left her a corpse in Camlann," he said softly. It was a necessary evil to protect his love from any more pain. She must not know the truth. She must not learn of his betrayal and the tiny part Carabosse played in it because of her undying loyalty to her friend and king.
Her smile blossomed slowly, like the moon emerging from behind a cloud, unaware of her king's thoughts. "You've killed her for me." It wasn't a question; there was no doubt in her mind. She rose up to kiss Oberon, a hot expression of affection from one usually so cold. "Did she suffer?" It was whispered against his lips after she broke the kiss, body pressed tight against him.
"If only because I was the one who did it," he whispered seductively, "but more because she did not see it coming." He ran his fingers up and down her back. "She will trouble us no more."
Mabb shivered, from his touch and his words. "Such cruel retribution," she purred, tongue flicking at the corner of his mouth as her fingers slid through the silky hair at his nape. "I only wish I could have seen her face, heard her take her last breath in this world..." But it was a passing regret, soon lost to other more pleasant distractions.
"I am sorry you couldn't be with me," he said, "but it had to be done." He was pleased to find her pliant and happy at this twist. He had yet to reveal anything about lost memories, though he was beginning to think he needn't bother. Less to lie about, less to manipulate into fitting his perfect plans.
The whispers that oft plagued her mind started up a faint chorus; something wasn't right here, not right at all. But she ignored them, silenced them with her will. "Don't be sorry, my love," she murmured as she set her magic to working on the buttons of Oberon's shirt. "She is dead, and I am here with you now." She kissed him again, lingering this time.
Everything was nearly perfect. There were the last council members to deal with, oh, and that wife he'd taken under false pretenses. But that would happen soon enough.
He sighed into the kiss, already hungry for more. The return of his memories had brought back the rest of his feelings for Mabb. He had the emotions, the love and the pain, but now he had the knowledge that went with them. He could understand what had brought him so close to this cold and dark faerie. He knew why he loved her so much and why that caused him so much pain.
His caresses were soft and delicate, tiptoeing around the real issues. "You are," he whispered, "here with me." He just hoped that this time he wouldn't ruin it.
![[info]](http://www.greatestjournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
![[info]](http://www.greatestjournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}