Arthur closed the door to the balcony quietly and rested his head against the glass for a minute. It was throbbing from the hours of furious arguing in Parliament. It made him long for the days when this had been and his alone to deal with.
"All right there, Arthur?"
The cool voice was tinged with just a hint of concern. Arthur turned slowly to face the speaker, already knowing what he would see.
A long black trench coat, tattered near the bottom, that would have looked melodramatic on anyone else. Skin pale enough to give the vampire conspiracy theorists some credibility. Eyes that held secrets and power Arthur was quite sure he was happier not knowing about. Oh, and a half eaten chocolate bar tucked into one of the coats many pockets, it's sweet scent out of place near a being that reeked of magic and blood. The childishness of his secret sweet tooth fit with the hint of mischief that graced him sometimes, though.
"Emrys."
He didn't ask how the man - if he could call him that - had gotten past the layers of the mansion's security. For all he knew, Emrys might have blown in on the storm.
Blue eyes raked him for injury. Finding none, he leaned back on the marble railing of the wide balcony. "Were you not pleased with the shield?"
"Oh, no. No, no. The shield was perfect. Is perfect," Arthur said hastily. "The city was protected perfectly." Nothing else they had tried had been half so effective against the creatures' air attacks in this thrice cursed war. The last thing he wanted was for the gift to be revoked because of seeming ingratitude.
Emrys raised an eyebrow. "But . . . "
Arthur walked to join him in leaning against the railing, though he kept a respectful distance. "Your former efforts on our behalf have not gone unnoticed," he began cautiously. Emrys's efforts were the only reason they hadn't already been wiped out. "But this one struck the parliament differently for some reason. It forced them to think, and in thinking they found they had some questions."
"Ah. Questions. Questions they expected you to have answers to, I take it." His voice had started to take a slightly dangerous tone. "I expect they weren't happy when you couldn't answer."
"Some of them I couldn't," Arthur said. "They wanted to know what you were - "
"Beg pardon?"
Arthur eyes him carefully, wary of giving offense. "Well, you're obviously not human. So they've been theorizing."
"Obviously," the man said flatly.
Arthur backpedaled. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."
"Oh, no, I'm curious. What exactly do they think I am?"
"It'd be easier to tell you what they hadn't suggested. I think they must have trawled every book of mythology and folklore in existence. Someone suggested the sidhe - "
Emrys laughed. The grey clouds seemed to lighten a bit at the sound. "They do realize they're fighting the sidhe, don't they?"
"I think they thought you might be a defector. Someone else suggested a genie until the director of our spy network pointed out if that was the case we'd only have gotten three wishes out of you instead of . . . . whatever number we're on. He pulled one out. It was large. Shut the others up for a bit, actually." He rubbed his temples.
"I take it this gratifying state of affairs did not continue."
"There was a faction that thought I'd pulled a Faust. Victory for ten years for my soul at the end of it. Forgetting everything else that was wrong with the that idea, I pointed out we're not exactly winning so much as surviving, and then suddenly they were changing the subject, wanting to know more about how we met, how we interact."
