Storytime: Chapter 7 - Myth

The disadvantage of having a enormous library at your disposal was that you never could be really sure, where to start, not knowing what to look for. And, ironically enough, the oldest and heaviest books were in the most unfortunate of places where not many could reach, tucked neatly in the wooden shelves.
A shower of dust fell from the space on two volumes and, against expectations, fell down at a comically fast pace while making almost no thud at all when landing on the carpet in a fluffy-looking heap. The instigator stepped out of the way with a disgrunted sound, snorting to get the remains out of his nose, and looked up above him again. He had to crane his neck to see, and it was apparent that the desired object stayed on place, not moving an inch.
That book would fall like a brick.
Not taking eyes off it he cautiously lifted a hand again and, exhaling, with a quick glance over his shoulder, he slowly curled fingers towards him in a beckoning motion.
More dust fell out, but other than that the thing didn't give any signs of moving.
This would be so much easier if it wasn't so cramped in there.
Blowing hair out of his face in frustration, he pulled up a chair to the shelves and stood up on it, closer but still not in reach of the highest one. Fingers missing it just so, he sharply bent them near the book cover again.
"I didn't think you'd manage."
Fabius nearly jumped out of his skin, causing the book - which was already halfway out - to fly off the shelf and across the room, hitting the floor with a startlingly loud noise. He cringed.
"Ahh, well, you, you know, need to be on your toes," he stuttered, gesturing at nothing in particular in the helpless way of someone desperately wanting to prove they are cool with the situation, despite their heart rate being that of a racing horse's hoofbeat, which caused more dust to move out of the many holes and surfaces. Noticing he quickly folded arms behind him and flashed a short smile.
"You could've just asked for help, you know," Tate said with amusement, picking up the fallen object and dropping it onto the table carefully.
"I didn't want to bother you," Fabius grunted, not quite over how tough it was to pull it out. I'm so much weaker than I used to be...
"I've heard that before. You never bother me, it's not like I have so many important things to do around here, now do I... what is this?" he looked at the cover, then inside. "We have THIS old a version of the whole Vulgate Cycle? Wow."
"Is there a newer one?"
"Of course. It's not so high up, either. But this has illustrations," Tate brightened up.
"I was trying to find some reliable sources of the Arthurian myth."
He raised a eyebrow. "And got this? Trust me, this is neither the most reliable nor readable."
Fabius climbed down from the chair and went to sit next to him with a sigh. "What would you suggest?"
"Err, I cannot suggest only one work, because by now nobody can be sure what is authentic and what isn't. However, I an for sure tell you that the best place to start might be Le Morte D'Arthur. You can get a general idea and then check other versions for different details."
"I don't need to get a general idea," Fabius scorned. "I have it. I want to know how is the story usually told." "Sit back."
Tate's narration was generally without flaws, if he sometimes added his own comment or thought about a few legends or interpretations of characters, but even so Fabius was utterly confused at the direction ot headed.
"You're talking about a modern re-telling here, right?"
"Uh, no? 12th century works."
He hid his face in hands with a pained groan. "So they focused on completely uncecessary aspects as early as that... And the originals are nowhere to be found."
"Not in most libraries, anyway... you would have to grab a historical document," Tate shrugged apologetically. "Is it such a problem?"
Fabius didn't respond until he abruptly lifted head. "Can you tell me when did Merlin die? I mean, how late into Arthur's reign was it?"
"Hard to say, it differs. But according to most sources it was either very early on or one-third in... What's with that grin?"
"Nothing." Fabius realized his relief must have been very obvious, especially for this companion. "Err... how did Arthur die?"
"Of battle wounds, every version. Either that or not at all, which is unlikely even for such a legendary figure."
"Uh-uh, sounds like him..."
"If you're talking about the oldest version, yes."
"What's with the newer one?"
Tate leaned back, crossing legs. "In the later ones he was still authority, but commanding from the back, more like a passive and dignified king not getting into the first line himself."
The first one snorted in amusement and pushed the piece of paper he was scribbling unconsciously away. "What else? I suppose a lot of the supernatural elements went down the drain."
"More like it got changed and adapted into the later Middle Ages..." Tate glanced on the paper sideways. Leaning back in the chair as well, Fabius dropped the old book from his knees back onto the table with a sulking expression.
"Y'know what particularly pisses me off on all the new adaptations and movies madde out of the legend?" Tate tossed his way. "There's very, very few mentions of other knights other than Lancelot. In some adaptations, there's none at all."
"The saddest thing on that being he wasn't part of the court in the first place," Fabius drawled.
"For someone who hadn't displayed any knowledge of the myth up until now you sure know helluva lot."
"Because I hadn't shown it doesn't mean I didn't know anything, deep down. I agree, by the way. Such a sad thing that names like Gawain and Gareth dropped out-" Tate blinked a few times and leaned forward, as if trying to catch a underlying sound or he heard something not quite right, and then his eyebrows shot up and he relaxed.
"Speaking of which, it's a real shame Gawain and the Green Knight never gets adapted," he grinned. "because the tale is hilarious."
..............................................................

"I hope you're having fun with this interrogation, because I sure as Hell am losing my patience."
"THAT is the main reason you're suspicious."
Amanda smacked her cup onto the kitchen counter,drawing in a breath sharply.
"Look; I know nothing about Jeanne's death, I HAd nothing to do with it, I was sleeping. And if you ask me one more question that marks me as a suspect, I will throw the kettle on your head."
Tate subconsciously lowered it. "
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, but you almost literally spit fire, can you blame me?"
"Do you think I'd openly talk about shooting things if I intended to murder someone? Are you crazy?"
"It could've been in the spur of the moment... "
"I DIDN'T KILL HER!"
He turned behind to Fabius, sitting in the corner, and mouthed 'nothing but the truth and pure truth, unless she has a evil alter ego and doesn't remember', making him raise eyebrows. He tore out a page from the notebook, wrote on it for a moment and then raised it; 'Nope'. Tate nodded and squirmed in seat to face Amanda's back again.
"She's got a point, you know," Timothy stated, entering the room. "murderers usually can't be recognized on first glance."
"YOU are a suspect as well," Tate informed him, pointing a oen in his direction.
"Surprise, surprise. Anyway, what makes you innocent?" Timothy tapped Amanda's shoulder lightly for her to move. She spared him a quick glance before letting him pass behind her. "What if it was you and you're just asking everyone to cover it up?"
"I LIKED her," Tate defended himself immediately in horror.
"So did I. But why should I believe you? Do I have a reason to believe it, to trust you?"
"Well... you've spent half a year with me, with all of us, shouldn't you know by now who'd be capable of it and who not?"
"Shouldn't YOU?" Timothy asked sharply, pulling out his own cup. "I don't claim to know what goes on in the mind of any of you, no matter how long was it, I know I'm not the best judge of character, and you shouldn't think so either. The only thing I can tell for sure is that we're practically on the same boat."
Fabius straightened, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.
"If it helps, I think you're innocent," Amanda elbowed his side, making him smile.
................................................................

"Guys, I'm the reincarnation of Merlin, and this all is my fault, and now let me explain who are you and why are you here. I promise it was for your own good!"
He winced and covered his forehead. Out loud it sounded even more insane than it did in in his mind. Glancing on his notebook, he shook head at the newest message.
I think brutal modesty might not be the best way of going about it. In fact, it is guaranteed to get your ass kicked out of the castle.
"I know, I know, I know." He sighed heavily. ,,But how can I go about this? How can I- how can I ever tell this into even one of them?"
You don't necessarily have to tell them.
"Of course I have to. They deserve to know..." Fabius whined. "And I need to blurt it out, or I won't tell it at all."
Do you at least remember who you brought here? Where to start?
"Yes, yes, sure, I just don't know who's who... which is the biggest problem here, really... and I'm talking to myself... because there's nobody else who I can safely tell it to..."
He collapsed into a sitting position, making sounds vaguely resembling both crying and laughter, but without tears.
"Who'd believe me?"
In all brutal honesty? Jeanne.