Chapter Text
Itchy. Dry. Scratchy and… bright. Bleach, clean sheets, and hot, fluorescent bulbs.
He let out a groan, feeling as though a steam press and a delivery truck full of stones, had taken turns letting out their frustrations on him. Then, someone had mercilessly shoved cotton into his mouth to suck all the moisture out. Drake could not say that he cared for it. Not one iota.
He took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. His chest felt like it was on fire and his throat felt raw, as if he had been screaming at a concert for hours. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time he messed up in his training and his first master had sent him flying into a wall, and he woke hours later.
Opening his eyes, Drake did not expect to find Veronica in a hooded cape-style shawl, her eyes direct on him. He wasn’t sure how to react. He went to pull up a shield, to protect himself, when he realized something.
“My ring.”
It was gone. Then he remembered. Horvath. The Parasite Curse. He should be dead right now, and without his magic, he might as well be. Granted, in a moment, he would likely be joining his parents in the hereafter. Whatever the hereafter was.
Then, a sultry voice with a sexy Italian accent cut through his confusion.
“Horvath used the Parasite Curse on you, to steal your magical energies and your ring. He foolishly intended to be able to be Morgana’s equal.”
Sinking back, Drake deflated a bit. Horvath had lost. Not that Drake would miss him. Quite the contrary. It just meant that he was safe because he wasn't a threat. No magic. Just a has-been illusionist who had been duped, betrayed, and emptied by a vanquished villain.
Then, despite the haze of pain and medication, he sensed it. His magic, still dancing just below his skin. Still crackling inside of him, just as it had all his life. Not quite in the full force he was accustomed to, where it almost seemed as if he could look in the mirror and expect to see lightening in his veins. No, this was far more sluggish. Probably a result of the meds. Well that and being nearly dead.
Then he remembered something else, he did not have his ring. No point in having magic if you couldn’t use it.
“Where’s my,”, Veronica interrupted.
“Balthazar is keeping it safe, for now. When you’ve been released, if you agree to my deal, he will return it to you. If not, then you will have to take it up with him, what is to be done with it.”
Drake had a feeling he was not going to like this deal. It would probably mean no more Drake Stone, Master Illusionist and Magical Celebrity.
“What’s the offer?”
Veronica waited a beat. Nothing like a dame who liked a dramatic pause.
“Be my apprentice.”
Now it was his turn to pause. Surely, he was hallucinating. Pain meds could do funny things to the mind.
“Come again?”
Veronica sighed. Bloody hell, even her sign was sexy. Yes, he definitely was high as a kite on pain meds. NYU used good stuff.
“Balthazar and Dave informed me that you’ve no master, and as a result of some detective work by Balthazar, we have learned that your master was a Morganian sorcerer who abandoned you in an effort to escape Balthazar. An unsuccessful attempt, I might add."
He sensed, through his dulled senses, that there was a vague threat in there. She was reminding him that a trained, powerful sorcerer could be taken out by Balthazar. Half-trained and not as powerful, he would be a lamb to the slaughter.
"In light of that", she continued, "and keeping in mind what Balthazar has noticed with you, we are willing to offer you this chance.”
She leaned forward, her voice going a bit lower and growing quiet, so Drake almost felt as if he ought to move towards her. If only he weren’t dealing with limbs filled with lead.
“Allow me to teach you the Merlinian way, to complete your training? I will return your ring to you, and thusly, your magic. And fully trained, you might be able to make a difference in this world.”
Drake wanted to laugh. Really, the idea of his second master betraying him, then Horvath’s former sworn enemy and said former sworn enemy’s girlfriend from the medieval period, offering to finish his training cause Balthazar felt bad about having a hand in Drake’s prescription level abandonment issues – it was insane. Totally insane.
Granted, he was starting to feel terribly sleepy again. His eyelids had elephants sitting atop them. Probably pink ones with bedazzled foreheads. He chuckled.
“You’ve a deal. But I am not wearing those pathetic shoes, Blake and the Prime Merlinian favor. I’ve got my own leather soles and they do not look like I insulted my cobbler.”
Veronica’s face gave away her amusement, a small smile rising on her face. It amused her how much, in a way, this young man sounded like Dave. Perhaps it was a generational thing, or perhaps it was a result of being untrained yet exposed to the world of magic, as both men had been.
Rising, she permitted the young illusionist to sleep as she walked out. Really, she would have talked Balthazar into returning the ring, no matter what the young man had chosen. It was not their place to separate him from his magic. Especially if he were strong enough to survive the Parasite Curse, then he was likely someone who could be a great ally to them.
Veronica strode out of the overly bright and stark hospital, out to the cool morning air and the grey parking area. So much of her own time had been brown and green. Homes were brown, grey, and warm. Castles and forts were brown, black, green, and grey with smatterings of color here and there from flags, signs, clothing being washed or sold, and the occasional fish or jewel. This world she had woken to, it was so full of grey and beige.
She ached to return to her home. It had amazed her how fiercely she could miss something she had never truly felt great affection for or safety within, in her former life. Balthazar had assured her that, with time, it faded but that the longing made no more sense even after centuries.
Becky, Dave’s beloved, had found a property she intended to show to Balthazar this afternoon. She had located it on something called ‘the internet’, using a tool Dave called, ‘Google’. Veronica supposed that, much as Balthazar had needed to catch up on the past decade after being released from that urn, she would now have to catch up on the centuries that had passed while she had battled Morgana for dominance within their confines.
Just as she made it to the motorcycle where Balthazar waited for her, the sun came out over the horizon, bathing the world in it’s warmth. She smiled. Her second sunrise since awaking to a new world, she tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and smiled. There had been times when she had only hoped to see another sunrise.
She could feel him long before his hand moved to her waist. His touch was still slightly tentative. As if he feared she were not real. That his hand would pass through her. Though he always had been gentle, even when they were very young and Merlin had cautioned them about using magic in view of mere mortals.
Opening her eyes, she was met with her favorite shade of blue. When she had time, between skirmishes with Morgana, she had allowed herself to dream. Sometimes of things she would never have, like a cottage filled with things she had woven and the children she shared with Balthazar. Other times, she simply dreamed of seeing him smiling down at her, his shaggy hair tangled in her fingers, as the world faded around them. Unimportant compared to the view of his eyes when he was blissfully happy.
Their life had allowed very little room for happiness or comfort. Constant travel, desperately seeking the Prime Merlinian, always trying to keep Morgana and her ilk at bay. There had been other apprentices, than she, Balthazar, and Horvath. Others that she buried, one that had died in Balthazar’s arms as Veronica tried to defend them from Morgana herself.
“Veronica?”
She smiled, hearing the worry in his voice. His beautiful voice. She had clung to her memories and now he was here, solid. Real.
“I am sorry, my love. I was overtaken by how grateful I am to be free, with you, to be done at last with our curse.”
“Curse?”
“Merlin’s curse, to make us young until we found his successor. It was not meant to be so, and yet it was.”
“It gave us a chance to have our life together.”
“Yes, though it will not be the life we dreamed of.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why?”, she asked.
He smiled, one weathered hand coming up to push an errant strand from her forehead. The look in his eyes pressed the breath from her instantly.
“I dreamed of being able to hold you, without fear of someone taking you. Mornings with hot drinks, warm blankets, and the sun doing it’s best to remind us of the passing time. Holiday meals. Dancing.”
He leaned, kissing her jaw, then resting his nose just above the juncture of her neck. His hands, still resting at her waist, giving a light, warm pressure. His thumbs drawing lazy patterns against the cotton of her shirt.
“Lots of dancing. Under stars, in fields, around fires, alone to music only we hear. And I dreamed of holding you. Letting you take your rest, knowing I would keep you safe and warm. Watching you as you taught your apprentices, seeing the joy in your eyes as they progressed and learned. Growing old with you.”
He looked up, giving her that small, aching smile she had loved and loathed in equal measures.
“What did you dream of?”
“A cottage. Weaving fine cloth and stitching fine little things to sell. Children. Watching them play, and grow. Of watching you teach them to use their magic. Attending festivals with our neighbors. Growing old with you.”
He ghosted his lips across hers.
“We can still have our apprentices, watch them grow and learn. We can still have a little cottage somewhere, to grow old together in.”
Veronica smiled, leaning up to whisper in his ear.
“And we can have dancing. Lots of dancing.”
Balthazar turned with a smile, offering her the crook of his elbow. She threaded her arm through it, his opposite hand coming to cover hers. She loved this man, this sorcerer from a bygone age.
“Come. Our chariot awaits to take us for lunch with Dave and Becky, then, we away to an estate up north.”
“An estate?”
“We need enough room to train apprentices without being observed. This age is not so open-minded as we were accustomed to.”
“Ah, yes.”
She waited for him to straddle the motorcycle, his hands on the steering portion before she put a hand to his shoulder for balance. Swinging her leg over, she was glad of one thing. It was not so shocking for a lady to wear trousers, which were far easier when riding something you had to hoist your leg over.
Once she was settled on the seat, she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Balthazar’s middle. She rather liked this contraption, as it allowed her such access to him. To be close, touching, after the centuries spent in near isolation.
“I am ready for an adventure, Blake.”
He smiled. It was an old joke, though it had not lost its luster. The engine roared to life with a command from Balthazar. Then it charged forward, making Veronica laugh as she clung more tightly to Balthazar.
Yes, she thought. This century did not resemble theirs at all. Yet, she would embrace it for all it did allow her and all it would give she and Balthazar