Side blog of yellowcakeUF6| Data Soong Arthurian concept based on Aubrey Beardsley and Howard Pyle's classic illustrations| Also my love of Aesthetic and Pre-Raphaelite art.
Update at last to Setting Sons. I know it isn't getting much traffic on here but for those who do enjoy it...
Chapter 6 - In Pursuit of a Grail and Family Bonds, part 1
Despite the bleak foretellings of Noonien, and Data’s unfortunate loss of the Excelsior scabbard, the community at Cair Peverell continued to prosper and live in tranquil peace.
High spirited lady Lal, who was already accomplished at music and riding, was now asking for lessons in swordplay and combat tactics. She hoped one day to follow in her mother's footsteps and ride into battle with her father, but although Data admired her courage and resolve, he naturally had reservations about this ambition. Yet deep down he knew Lal would not be deterred.
In contrast, his older brother Bedevere or B-4 remained a subdued but constant presence at his side. He served his more illustrious sibling with faith and diligence, but his pacifist nature meant that he would engage in combat only in the name of peace and justice.
B-4 was a solitary soul, enjoying his own company. He would often embark on long pilgrimages to enlighten and cleanse his spiritual mind.
Following Lore’s visit to Cair Peverell however B-4 was haunted constantly by ruminations of the wayward brother. While the rest of Data’s retinue felt concern and even fear, B-4 harboured a different sentiment.
Imbued with indomitable optimism he believed there was a way he could break through Lore's stubborn and impenetrable barrier to access his troubled mind and even mend the fractured bond between the three of them.
While it was true that he was a skilled negotiator - tactful and equitable yet also pragmatic - he could also be too idealistic and sometimes fell short of his grand expectations. Nevertheless he strongly felt that a meeting of the brothers in private and on neutral ground would help in facilitating this process.
Along with his lofty ambitions to close the family rift, he was also keen to partake in a challenging quest which many of Arthur's knights at Joyous Gard were already involved in - the search for the Holy Grail.
He knew that while he might not be the victorious acquirer of this sacred vessel it would bestow glory on his name, just being one of the knights to take on the quest was a highly honoured achievement.
There were of course only rumours on what a vision of the grail would actually be like.
Some claimed it was a breathtaking sight, of a gold chalice burning with bright light that could overwhelm many proud men.
Others however told of a more subdued experience that it was a plain vessel carved of ancient wood and it was its inner significance that made it poignant and powerful as a magical artifact.
The fascination drew him like a moth to a lit sconce but Data, ever the cautious and protective pillar of the family was quick to summon his naive and starry eyed sibling to his personal quarters to exhort him.
He stood motionless as Data paced the wooden floor, his boots crushing the rushes scattered beneath them. At times like this B-4 felt almost like a child, especially when his brother addressed him by his full name:
Bedevere, I know I am the youngest of us and therefore may not carry a font of wisdom as large as I might think, or even wish, but I am offering my counsel as a brother who loves and cares for you dearly."
B-4 gazed at Data with lowered eyes, feeling the weight of the stern discourse about to unfold.
"Is this regarding the Grail?" He ventured in a soft, almost timid tone.
Data nodded curtly, "Yes, because it is a perilous undertaking and one which you may regret in due course. More important however is that many who seek this do not return and I do not wish to lose another brother…"
"But I - "
Data raised a didactic finger. "Therefore I beseech you to give this matter great consideration before you embark upon it."
B-4 looked almost crestfallen, "I see," he replied in a humbled voice. His eyes fixed on a stained glass window in Data’s chamber. A gallant knight defeating a dragon serpent.
It appeared to fire both his inspiration and determination. But for now he remained silent and let Data continue, as he knew he hadn't finished his piece.
"There is something else I wish to discuss with you. Far from me to interfere, however there has been a rumour circulating among the courtiers that you wish to seek out Lore and hold discussion with him. I implore you against this undertaking , however honorable your intentions."
B-4 swallowed hard, trying to maintain control. He hated how his over sensitive emotions made him seem weak.
"I -I am sorry, I do not understand brother. Why would you reject an attempt at peace?"
"Because Lore is not easily swayed by words and he has the confidence of many people who we as a kingdom would never confer with or tolerate."
"Such as?" B4 inquired in an almost croak.
Data sighed as if masking irritation. "Surely I do not have to spell it out for you Bedevere. Warlords…rebels, those who use magical powers for nefarious means. They are a threat to our security, possibly even our very existence."
B4 cleared his throat and did his best to remain immutable.
" While there are undeniably obstacles, I feel there are benefits to be gained in trying. Family is most dear to me and there is nothing that would instill joy more than seeing our noble house reunited."
Data frowned, an expression of almost annoyance painting his features.
"I too, brother, but I think our bond is broken irrevocably. It is futile to try and mend it. He won't listen. Or he will attempt to trick you."
"I disagree. In my opinion these challenges give me all the more reason to try.
"Therefore I am going to reject your advice and embark on both my endeavours, however risky that might be."
"Bedevere you are making a grave mistake …"
"My lord Sir Dayton, I acknowledge your counsel but on this occasion i will not honour it. I am embarking on the quest for the Grail and I will seek out and attempt to reconcile us with Lore. That is all I will say on this matter and now if you will excuse me…"
And with that B-4 left with haste ordering a page to get his armour, weapons and horse prepared in readiness.
oOo
The quest was indeed a brutal test for any knight however chivilrous their intentions or brave their soul.
B-4 learned that Lancelot, Gawain and a few other renowned knights from the company of Arthur's table had set out equally confident but had failed. They were more accomplished than he yet it did not shake his ironclad resolve.
He pondered on what deed he might have to undertake to get sight of the Grail.
He told himself he was not a coward but he did prefer to use creative means to solve mysteries or settle disputes by peaceful means rather than engage in combat. He saw no logic in senseless bloodshed.
After seven days and nights travelling out of the kingdom and riding through wild terrain, taking refuge where he could, B-4 came upon a ramshackle village built upon a grey hill. The surrounding area was also dry and arid. Unusual for the temperate climate of the homelands. B-4 had never travelled to such places but imagined it to be as barren as the exotic kingdoms overseas.
He was bemused to see a tall woman ahead of him, standing by a thin dead tree as if she had been purposely waiting for him.
She had long dark hair embellished with elaborate ornament, and was garbed in richly embroidered robes of a curious celestial design. Something B-4 had never seen before.
They remained standing in the same place as if rooted there, without movement or expression until B-4 was almost directly in front of her. Then her countenance relaxed and her lips parted to show a beguiling smile.
The knight obligingly dismounted seeming it was the polite thing to do and approached the woman face to face.
"Greetings Fair knight," they welcomed in an almost blithe manner.
Greetings to you also dear lady. May I ask your name?"
"I am known as the Night Sorceress, and you are?"
"Sir Bedevere, I belong to the company of Sir Dayton at Cair Peverell."
"And I am guessing that you are on the quest for the Grail?"
"That is correct madam."
The sorceress smirked knowingly.
"If i may say so, you look very young and naive to be riding out on perilous quests. And furthermore with such a delicate, feminine appearance to your physique... "
B-4 gave them an indignant scowl, "I am not so young and I do possess courage. However I concede I am bestowed with feminine features. It is also true, according to Sir Dayton that my ways can occasionally be deemed immature."
"I can believe that. And you are not wed either. In fact I can wager that you are a still a virgin."
B-4 was taken aback by the veracity of the statement, and became suddenly reticent, a flush of colour rising in his cheeks.
"That is a private matter."
"But it is true," the sorceress smiled archly.
Feeling strangely awkward and exposed, B-4 abruptly changed the subject.
"How do I know that I am near the Grail? Will there be any sign?"
The sorceress laughed. "Of course not. You must search it by instinct. But I will warn you there will be obstacles. Ogres, giants perhaps or even aggressive knights.
"You with your tender nature might easily fall upon trouble and be gravely wounded or even killed. However I have something that might assist you in staying protected. I would not normally be so generous, but I already harbout a soft spot for you, sweet B-4."
"Why?"
"Because you seem such a kind and genuine soul…"
The sorceress reached into a clump of bushes and brought out a shield. It had no insignia save for a baton sinister.
"This is an enchanted shield and will protect you," the sorceress told him. "Take it."
With a look of astonishment B4 took the accoutrement in his hands and gazed at it in wonder, before strapping it across his shoulders.
"Do not thank me, it is my gift, because I do not wish for honorable knights to be slain in vain. And you are a good person and deserve at least a chance."
B4 still dumbstruck, could only nod his head before murmuring his gratitude anyway.
"Now be gone Fair knight, this place is cursed and you should not stay," the sorceress ordered bluntly.
And with that they vanished, and B4 mounted his horse and galloped away.
**Hellawes is loosely based on Deanna/Lwaxana Troi
Chapter 5 - The Deception
Data was riding through the wild lands on the edge of his estate. The deer that roamed were curiously absent and there was no birdsong.
It aroused his curiosity.
It was then that he heard a whisper - someone saying his name.
"Sir Dayton…help me"
He glanced around, but could see no one.
He dismissed it as his imagination, after all he was so guarded and his senses so heightened since the visit from Lore that his sharpened vigilance might easily induce a trick of the mind.
But then it came again.
"Sir Dayton, help me please"
The tone was so desperate and urgent despite the frailty of the unmistakably female voice, that he knew it was no mistake.
The sound appeared to be emanating from a thick mass of thorny creeper, tightly surrounding a small copse of trees.
'A very suitable place to hide,' he mused, unable to keep cynicism from his thoughts .
However on approach he could see the vines had been chopped by a sword, making a small clearing, and beyond this - to his utmost surprise - he discovered a delicate, pixie-faced woman bound by her wrists to two of the slender trees, unable to move.
"Sir Dayton, thank the gods…"
"Who are you?" Data inquired with a suspicious frown. Initially he thought it might be a wood nymph conjuring mischief.
"I am Hellawes, an earth sorceress." She declared bluntly.
"I apologise, but I nothing of you fair maiden. But if you have magical powers then how did you end up trapped here? Surely you possess cunning enough to prevent it,or at least enable you to shed these crude bonds?"
Hellawes gave a cynical chuckle. "The cruel errant red knight called Lorence did this to me, and his powers far outstrip my own."
"Ah," Data nodded silently and without expression.
Hellawes gave him a persuasive almost guileful smile, "My talent lies elsewhere," she cooed demurely.
It was then that a strange feeling came over Data. Normally he was immutably stoic and felt no discernible emotion, but now all of a sudden he found himself awash with an irrational, almost juvenile attraction to this woman.
A momentary flash of instinct told him Hellawes had lied about being a harmless green witch and somehow had cast a spell over him. However this warning quickly dissipated along with his natural vigilance, slipping away like sand as he lost control of rationality.
Hellawes had indeed seduced him, putting him under a powerful trance that he was helpless to escape from. Gratifying flattery washed over him as she plied him with her honeyed words.
"I have always been impressed by your gallant and chivilrous deeds Sir Dayton."
"Please, call my Data. There is no need for formalities," he uttered in an uncanny, impish tone.
"Data… ah- ha. I do like the ring of that. You are so self assured and handsome. And you have a famous sword?"
"How do you know this?"
A flicker of suspicion cut through Data’s befuddled consciousness before being snuffed out.
"Your fame spreads throughout the whole land, good knight," Hellawes replied, "And Excelsior is famed for its reputed magical properties. You are so privileged to be the bearer of such a gift."
With those last words Hellawes glanced down at the sword at Data’s side, "Please I must see it," she almost pleaded, "Use it to cut me free of these bonds."
"Fair lady Hellawes. I would be most honoured to do so," and with an awkward, almost lazy looking smile, Data unsheathed the blade.
He effortlessly cut through the tough binds which fell to the ground and Hellowes stepped free.
"Thank you kind sir, I am now in your debt."
Hellawes eyes examined the blade in Data’s hand, her face infused with what seemed like wonder, and she uttered a low gasp of awe.
"It is so beautiful. What else can it do?"
Data gave another tiny smile, instinctively attempting to convey pride. He was totally absorbed by the attention he was receiving. In sobriety he was seldom if ever touched by flattery, but in this moment he revelled in it.
An irresistible warm glow enveloped his entire being.
'It has been such a long time…' he mused inwardly, his thoughts suddenly wistful.
Obligingly, he put on an impressive demonstration of his skills, brandished the blade, using nimble footwork and deft strokes to show off his enviably elegant swordsmanship.
Fully aware of the admiring glances he was earning from Hellawes, he sliced through a crop of thick, thorny creepers, reducing them to chips, without effort or exertion.
Visibly impressed, Hellawes smiled at him
"Dear Sir Data, would you be so kind as to escort me back to my home? I fear being caught again so I need a guardian angel…"
"Of course I shall be delighted," Data replied, effecting another of his strange little smiles. Sheathing Excelsior, he took Hellawes' arm and they walked together through the bleak woods until they reached a secluded rustic dwelling on the edge of what was called the Fallowlands.
Again a tiny warning emitted from the depths of his foggy mind, telling him to leave, but it was soon obliterated by the intensity of Hellawes magic as she led him inside the cottage.
"Welcome to my humble abode," she announced. "Please, take repose and let your mind be without troubles."
It sounded so good to Data's ears. Accordingly he sat down on a bed sumptuouly laid out with furs, and his mind was only focused on how captivatingly beautiful Hellawes was, even though when he had first set eyes on her he had felt indifference towards her appearance.
"Here my dear lord knight, drink with me."
Data raised one eyebrow quizzically as Hellowes offered him a rams horn vessel. The liquid within was warm and smelled pungent, not a sensation he was accustomed to, so his instinct was to vascillate. It was instilled deep within his psyche that imbibing victuals in strange surroundings was something to be discouraged in case it was poison.
"I know you are wary but I can assure you it is safe," Hellawes imparted with a smile. "I simply wish to foster a deeper connection with you over the taking of wine."
She then placed a hand on Data’s shoulder, another act of familiarity which sparked innate discomfort, yet he did not object.
Hellawes took her own vessel, which further alleviated his doubts, and as they wished each other mutual good health and fortune, he took a long draft.
At first, he simply felt the preexisting sense of warmth spread and intensify. Then he felt a sudden onset of heaviness and lethargy. He leaned back on the bed of furs and almost immediately sunk into a deep sleep.
The last thing he remembered was Hellawes pressing her lips to his and whispering to him that he was more of a fool than she had first thought.
oOo
When Data awoke, he was alone and no longer on the bed of furs. He was lying on a pile of bracken in the forest, dishevelled and woolly headed.
As he came to, realisation dawned. He had been drugged and duped.
In desperate panic he looked down at his person and groaned aloud.
A surge of desperate anguish and shame coursed through him as he saw that the precious scabbard, the one that protected him, was gone. Excelsior was tied to his middle by a common cord.
He cursed himself roundly and bitterly for his lapse of reason and subsequent foolishness.
Unbeknown to Data however, the treacherous Hellawes has taken the precious scabbard to Lore, who at this moment was hiding in a secret cave by the sea. Now guaranteed to be protected from injury or death, he could summon all the forces of darkness to wage war and inflict destruction on the brother who had dared to spurn him.
He praised Hellawes fulsomly for her assistance in furthering his ambitions, "You did splendidly my little shrike. Now I need to put the next stage of my master plan into motion."
"And what is it that you have in mind my dark lord?"
Hellawes sidled up to her accomplice and stroked his chain mail covered head. Lore in return gave her a wide vulpine grin.
"First I need a transformation - I desire to look both impressive and formidable when i meet my brother on the battlefield. I cannot do that garbed in this shabby ensemble."
He looked down in distaste at his tarnished armour and old faded red surcoat.
"We will change it, working together," Hellawes simpered.
"No - this is something I must do myself," Lore replied sharply.
Her face fell.
"Apologies for offending you my little sparrow hawk, but when I need help it will demand more than a mere hedge witch."
Hellawes' triumph rapidly evaporated to humiliation.
"You mean…Morgana le Fay?"
Lore didn't need to answer. His devious smirk said it all.
Data’s only daughter, the Lady Lal, was deep in contemplation as she walked around the castle grounds with her father.
She had many questions which she mostly kept to herself, but following the visit from her errant uncle all those nagging queries were goading and eating away at her and she needed to have a frank discussion with Data.
"Father" she inquired softly, "I have some important questions I wish to ask you."
Data as usual remained impassive. He was like a deep calm lake whose stolid waters nothing could ripple.
"Yes my dear, please go ahead."
Lal paused, as if trying to steel herself for a difficult exchange. "They are very…sensitive questions," she stated, keeping her voice as level as was possible for her.
"That is not a problem Lal. So what is it you wish to ask?"
Lal was slightly reassured by her father's even, almost soothing tone.
"It is about …me," she ventured, "i want you to tell me about my background and heritage. You have kept back so much from me."
"I am sorry," Data replied with almost total phlegmatism. "Our family has been so happy as we are. I did not wish to spoil that."
Lal frowned, "But Father I am 18 years old now, an adult, I think I deserve to know the truth - in full."
"I understand." Data answered in that same even tone. "I held back because those times were extremely traumatic and I did not wish to cause you sorrow."
Lal nodded soberly.
"I see. But however tragic the past is I think it is right for me to know about my mother. What was she really like? How did she die?"
Despite the bluntness of Lal's inquiries, Data’s features hardly altered and his demeanour remained calm, void of any trace of emotion.
"Come. Let us sit down…"
Data led Lal to a sheltered nook between two trees, where a stump had been fashioned into a seat by B-4 some years back.
Once they were settled, his body language tensed but only perceptibly, others might miss it though it was noticeable to Lal.
Data folded his hands neatly in his lap, maintaining focus on his daughter as he proceeded to tell the story.
"As you know, your mother was Natasha, Lady Pendragon. She was brave and beautiful as well as possessing a highly intelligent spirit."
"Yes." Lal whispered, "I was aware of this. But I also sense that she did something very extraordinary in her life…?"
"She did. Lady Pendragon refused to follow tradition and be a dutiful wife in the background. Instead she wanted to be independent - a front line player in politics and the battlefield."
Lal's eyes widened in open astonishment.
"Naturally this was frowned upon by noble society, as the ruling figures were always men. However she wanted to challenge that."
"And did she succeed?"
"Almost, but she never got the chance as…"
Lal quickly cut across her father's words, "How did you meet?" She asked abruptly.
"When she was fighting for the lands and deeds of Dolorous Gard, which were under the rule of a punitive and cruel lord.
"I had been summoned to assist in this campaign as she was a solitary soul without any family. All had been murdered by this lawless savage chief in a vicious ambush."
"Ah, I understand." Though in truth as peace had endured since her birth, Lal's concept of a lawless world was rather vague. Nevertheless she was rapt and urged Data to continue.
"After Dolorous Gard was secured, we became acquainted and eventually embarked on a relationship of sorts. I asked for her hand but she refused."
"Oh?" Lal's expression was one of confusion.
"My father was not happy with the casual nature of our bond anyway - not just because of my lady's wayward perspective. He is a seer, and he warned me that if I stayed with your mother it would result in heartbreak, but I paid no heed.
"Then she told me she was with child - you. But still she refused to relent and accept our betrothal. She was fiercely independent - insisting we could cohabit without the shackles of marriage."
"She was very progressive," Lal observed.
"That she was. However her views incited disapproval and outrage from courtiers. To be a high born female with child out of wedlock is not looked upon favourably. So our liaison was conducted in secret.
"When my lady was ready to give birth we sequestered, mainly to provide her with the peace and tranquility she needed. Only my brother Bedevere, B-4, and my father Noonien were permitted to join us."
"So who helped her to birth if there was no midwife?"
"My brother as you know is imbued with very precise feminine skills."
"Yes. B-4 does possess a uniquely female countenance, despite acting like a gentleman on the surface."
"So consequently my lady conceived without any issue or trauma."
Lal nodded, deep in contemplation, "I feel very proud of having such a strong and determined mother. I am not ashamed at all."
"Her death, not long after was a terrible shock although I sensed it would occur because my father is always correct in his foretellings."
"How did it happen?"
"Your mother, being so headstrong, wanted to return to her duties as soon as possible. It happened that a grotesque black beast - a malevolent serpent - had ventured onto her lands, taking up residence in a cave with a tar pit.
"You're mother wanted to drive it away but I deterred her. Then it abducted a young woman from a village and she was determined to conquer it and rescue the hostage.
"She and several of her strongest soldiers accompanied her to the cave. One of them drowned in the serpent's tar pit and enraged she challenged the beast outright…"
Data faltered briefly, taking a slow measured deep breath, before continuing.
"She fought long and hard, and eventually did manage to free the girl, but the beast was enraged and grew stronger. Finally when it saw your mother was tired it rained tarry fire upon her and she could not survive…"
Data trailed off and the air was thick with silence, apart from the solitary coarse cry of a corvid echoing in the distance.
Lal looked at him with glistening eyes, full of love and understanding. "Say no more Father. I know now why you were reluctant to let me hear this…"
"It was a senseless death," he uttered starkly.
"But nevertheless she was courageous and just and selfless. Thank you for telling me, I am immensly proud to be the daughter of Lady Pendragon…and thank you Father, for my life."
They sat ruminating for several minutes until Lal spoke again.
"And my uncle, Lore. Who is he? And what crime has he committed that would merit his banishment for so many years? You never mentioned him before…"
Data sustained his obdurate stoic solemn aura but was nevertheless starkly candid with his daughter.
"My brother was gifted but was arrogant and made some very bad decisions. He committed deeds that were unforgivable."
"You mean he killed people?" Lal asked baldly.
"Yes."
"What does he want from you now?"
"A pardon. But he does not merit it."
Lal pursed her lips. "Is there any way of working this out amicably? What if he seeks revenge?"
Data sighed, a trace of irritation in his voice. "My dear, I shall not - cannot - yield. But I am prepared and I will do everything in my power to protect all that I value and hold dear."
Lal nodded blandly but she could not smile or agree verbally.
"We shall see then," she stated, and her tone was perfunctory.
Collection: Southampton City Art Gallery, Southampton, United Kingdom
Description
This painting is based on a design for Holy Grail tapestries commissioned from William Morris in 1890. Launcelot has arrived at the chapel containing the holy grail but because of his sinful affair with King Arthur’s wife Guinevere he cannot enter and instead falls asleep.
Artist: John William Waterhouse (English, 1849–1917)
Date: 1888
Medium: Oil on canvas
Collection: Tate Britain, London, United Kingdom
‘The Lady of Shalott
And down the river’s dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance –
With glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
English poet Alfred Tennyson’s poem ‘The Lady of Shalott’ (1833) describes a heroine confined to a tower and cursed to die if she looks directly upon the outside world. By using a mirror, she embroiders scenes of passers-by. When the Lady glimpses the Arthurian knight Sir Lancelot she falls in love and defies the curse. Out in the cold world, on the point of death, she frees a boat to seek him. Pre-Raphaelite clues foretell her fate: swallows fly low as the wind blows her hair and extinguishes the candles.
Data had a page prepare his favourite horse and once ready he set out with Noonien to the edge of the dark forest. At a point where the trees thinned out, Noonien stopped and dismounted, telling his son to do the same.
With hesitance Data alighted from his horse and tied the reins to a stout tree stump. He then followed the wizard solemnly into a coppice of slender birches, where a narrow path snaked through, although parts of it seemed artfully obstructed by tough vines.
Patiently the pair stepped over the thorny tangled mass, until the path widened and became clearer. Noonien uttered a low mumble to Data, as he halted at the banks of a strange dark green lake.
"Here we are."
He gestured to the individual waiting for them, a tall red haired woman.
"Who is she?" Data asked, burning with curiosity.
"Nimue, the Lady of the Lake," replied Noonien.
Nimue nodded to the pair in acknowledgement. She seemed to be possessed of a calm and serious nature and not taken to many words.
Noonien told Data that Nimue was called The Lady of the Lake because she resided in solitude within its depths. Data was stunned at her beauty and how she uncannily resembled his late mother.
However, he imparted that he was slightly perturbed by the dull murky appearance of the lake, and that it seemed a peculiar and unfitting place for such a beautiful woman to spend their existence.
"Why?" asked Nimue, with a quizzical expression.
"Because it seems so grim and forlorn," Data continued. "It is surrounded by reeds and weeds and is as green as dour pea soup. This is not how I imagined an enchanted place might be."
"Are you disappointed, son of Soong?"
"I cannot be disappointed, I am just observing that it does not look a hospitable place for a mystical person to inhabit."
"Appearances can be deceptive," Nimue replied cryptically.
"And these unremarkable waters hide great secrets," added Noonien sagely.
"So why have you brought me here?" Data inquired.
"Because of a sword." Noonian stated succinctly with a glance towards Nimue.
"A sword?" Data asked, frowning.
"Yes, a sword named Excelsior. It is a powerful and enchanted weapon, hidden in the bosom of the lake," Nimue explained.
She then asked Data if he was willing to be the custodian of Excelsior.
"Am i worthy?"
"Indeed you are," voiced Noonien confidently.
While still bemused by the offer, Data accepted.
Nimue then instructed Noonien and Data to climb into a small barge moored at the bank among the mess of wild reeds and rushes, before she turned away and disappeared into the murky depths.
As soon as the two men were aboard, the barge magically glided across the lake until reaching the centre it came to a halt, as if anchored invisibly to the calm waters. Data noticed the thin white mist rolling across the surface of the lake, bathing himself and Noonien in a milky shroud.
In this ethereal stillness the surface water rippled and then broke as a hand rose slowly from it, holding aloft a magnificent sword with a jewelled scabbard. Data’s eyes widened at the spectacle, it was as if the weapon visibly glowed, surrounded by a halo of shimmering light.
Data gently took the weapon, holding it by the hilt and gazing at it in wonder. Speechless.
Nimue rose from the lake, seeming to hover on the surface. She asked Data which he preferred - the sword or the scabbard.
Data without hesitation replied
"The sword, no question. "
Nimue gave an indulgent nod but then told him, " The sword is remarkable but the scabbard is more precious still."
"How?"
"Because so long as you wear it by your side in battle it will protect you no matter how wounded you are."
"I do not understand." Data murmured, his brow furrowed.
"You will."
Noonien gave him a knowing look, and then it became clear.
Lore.
Nimue, her task complete, bowed solemnly and bid the pair farewell before sinking gracefully below the surface of the lake. Leaving Data to gaze in mesmerised perplexity in turn at the lake and the sword Excelsior in his hand.
"I do not know what to do Father. I normally do not feel emotions but I find this extremely overwhelming."
Noonien offered him a reassuring smile, "Just heed Nimue's counsel and everything will be fine my son."
Still weighed down by the brevity of what had just happened, Data gave a silent acknowledgement and walked with Noonien to where their mounts still waited patiently.
"Come let us return to Cair Peverell. I can guarantee when you get back to your family and comrades you will feel much better."
"I trust your reassurance."
Data gave Noonien a thin smile as he buckled the sword to his waist and mounted his horse.
☆☆ A quick heads up - Lore might seem like a ruthless villain in this story but he isn't. While he is guilty of some terrible crimes he just wants someone to help him and understand him.
Setting Sons of Carmelard
Chapter 2 - The Banquet Confessional
Lore was visibly overwhelmed by what he saw as he entered the banqueting hall where Data and his company were making merry. The atmosphere was convivial, yet he felt starkly out of place.
There were acrobats tumbling and juggling and even balancing from a ceiling-held trapeze. Performing for the delight of the small but clearly privileged gathering. Among them Lore noticed a striking young girl with dark eyes and long black hair, laughing joyously and applauding the spectacle.
He didn't know her yet she seemed familiar.
He also observed the extravagant way everyone was dressed, with flowing wool cloaks in vibrant shades and doublets edged with gold braid.
In his old fashioned armour and plain red surcoat he felt even more apart and excluded than usual.
Data offered him a seat at a large round table and Lore obligingly sat down, still wearing his nonplussed expression.
No one took much notice of him, they were all too absorbed in their own affairs to pay lip service to someone who on the surface resembled a soldier whose fortunes had dwindled.
They probably thought he was seeking sanctuary or financial support.
A well dressed page brought him food and wine and Lore realised he was hungry. As he attacked the fruit and roast fowl on the platter, Data sat down beside him and took the opportunity to ask what he had been doing these past years.
"It looks as if you have hit hard times, Lore"
That hurt. Lore hadn't really expected to receive an emotional welcome from his brother but this was worse than he expected.
"You could say that," he replied with a bitter edge to his voice.
He then proceeded to explain that stripped of his fortune and bereft of any title, he was forced to offer his skills fighting for various warlords, helping them to overcome the advance of savage enemy tribes.
It was a service which led one of the warlords Lot, to bestow a makeshift knighthood upon him as a reward for his apparently gallant deeds. He then became a lone bounty hunter, known casually as the 'Red Knight'.
However Lore knew his knighthood carried no weight among the true noble contingent. He hoped Data might recognise that he had worthy qualities and award him the title officially.
Data however remembered the past with bitterness, how Lore was banished and forgotten. Yet for some reason it induced a flicker of compassion. Briefly, he wondered if he should pardon his brother, however his innately strict and deep-seated moral code overrode this thought.
"Can you attone for your past crimes by spending five years in penance?" He asked bluntly.
"Absolutely not!" Lore spat back in disgust.
"Why?" Data inquired mildly.
"Because, my dear brother I have paid my dues in full. No thanks to our cursed father of course... I could have proved myself a worthy son if only he'd given me a chance. Why did he just cast me out?"
Data gazed upon his sibling dispassionately, "He felt it was best, Lore."
"Do you truly believe that, Data? Are you really that much of a sycophant? And I repeat, I will not accept your offer, never!"
"Then I have no choice but to have you tried for irrefutable treason, and sentence you to life imprisonment."
Lore rounded on Data with an expression of distraught disbelief.
"That is ridiculous!"
His voice lowered to a tremor, as if he was holding back tears.
"B-brother, I am bitterly disappointed. You have become just like him."
"Who?"
"Noonien of course. Thinking he was some all powerful, sanctimonious diety who can dictate people's lives. He is nothing but a piddling clay god! I am a blood relative, I shouldn't have to undertake severe recompense to earn forgiveness."
Data emitted a resigned sigh. "Whatever you think, it does not excuse your appalling behaviour Lore. You do not merit preferential treatment."
Lore pursed his lips, trying to sustain his bravado but crestfallen defeat showed in his hazel eyes. "I see. Well it seems that I have wasted my time. I shall stay here no longer. Goodbye SIR Dayton…"
Lore offered a curt bow before taking his leave, so swift in his actions that he had flown before Data’s guards could restrain him.
~~~
The days passed, and it seemed that Lore had indeed vanished once more into obscurity. However Data knew that given his baleful nature Lore would certainly resurface to take revenge at some point.
And so he decided it was time to prepare, to protect all that he loved.
Noonien Soong, hidden away in his secluded lair, had already intuited the events through his clairvoyant ability and this sixth sense also informed him Data was deeply concerned and needed help.
He travelled by mule to meet with his youngest son at Cair Peverell, knowing that he might be in grave danger was a huge worry for him, but he already had a solution.
There was something precious he had wanted to bestow upon Data for some time but was waiting until the time was right.
The ancient wizard looked upon his son, his world weary eyes brimming with profound love. "You have enjoyed peace and prosperity unhindered for some years," he observed wisely, "But now the time has come for you to take greater protection. We must make haste…."
"Where?"
"To the enchanted lake in the forest at the wild edges of Carmelard."
baratheonpilled
areudirty
turnnoffyourmind
ellievsbear
snowghoul
jbbartram-illu
theartofmadeline
dailybridgerton
