THE MAGICIAN IV - THE WARRIOR PRIEST     

by Suzanne Bickerstaffe, with Jennifer Lyon
(ecksphile@earthlink.net, Jenni10647@aol.com)
October, 1998


Acknowledgements and disclaimers

    Thanks to the many fans of the Realm who have been begging
for another chance to visit there. This book is a bit different from
the three Magician stories that preceded it. First, Jenni chose this
time to contribute mostly in the form of editing, so for the most part
the writing was done alone (which made me appreciate my former
writing partner all the more - it's hard writing this solo!)

    Secondly, most of the book is written from a first-person
point of view - and not Mulder or Scully's. I think I managed to get
inside my narrator's head pretty well, but you'll have to judge that
for yourself.  But it was great fun exploring this character who
we see far too little of. I filled in several blanks in his life. I
apologize in advance if I haven't filled them in quite as anyone else
envisioned.

    I would like to thank Jennifer Lyon, for what she wrote and for
editing, and most especially for the marvelous idea for the original
book and inviting me to be a part of it all.  The Realm is now as real
to me as it is to many of you. I would also like to thank Melody Lanier
for reading it over and making lots of wonderful suggestions.

    This book is dedicated to the most loyal and patient fanfic fans
in the world. People like Todd, and Suzanne from Sweden, and Roy
and many others - your patience has at last been rewarded.  You
honor us with your loyalty to the Realm and its beings.

DISCLAIMER : The XFiles and the characters of Mulder, Scully and
Skinner belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television.
They were used without permission, but treated gently.  The plot, the
Realm and all other characters belong to Jenni and myself. No profit
is being made from this story (although, what do you think about Realm
Action Figures <g>?).

CATEGORY: Fantasy/Adventure

RATING: For the most part, PG-13ish, with a lovely R-rated
(or NC-17, for the more sensitive) Chapter Nineteen.

ARCHIVE: To Gossamer, yes please. Anywhere else, please ask for
permission, which will undoubtedly be given.

SPOILERS:  None,  really.  This is an alternate universe, with
no cancer, no Emily, no burned-out office, no Spender.  It will
undoubtedly make more sense, though, if you've read the first
three Magician books.

SUMMARY: Scully and Mulder go back to the Realm for the birth
of Shannon and Andalor's first child.  But the unexpected happens -
first, someone enters the Realm accidently in their wake, then a
terrible crime occurs, sending the pair and their ally on a mission
against evil.



Chapter One


    The only sounds were the sputtering buzz of the laboring
dehumidifier and the steady rhythm of two pairs of lungs drawing
breath. The air smelled of mildew - damp, heavy. But the crowded
basement office was a visual feast, a study in contrasts, a battle
between chaos and order.

    One side of the room displayed neat shelves of medical
tomes and primly bound copies of The Lancet, JAMA, Scientific
American and Psychology Today, cataloged alphabetically and
chronologically.  A spray of flowers, bought on a whim, was
artlessly arranged in an Erlenmeyer flask on the desk, bringing
a welcomed touch of color to the gunmetal gray of the furniture.  
The only other object of color - on the wall opposite - was a
beautiful tapestry, the hues unnaturally brilliant and figures oddly
three-dimensional.  Two neat stacks of files stood ready on the
immaculate desk blotter, and a pad of Post-It notes and a pen lay
thoughtfully by the phone. In the midst of this neatness and almost
obsessive order, the blue screen of an idle monitor stared out as if
offended by the disarray on the opposite side of the room.

    Specimen jars with grisly and questionable contents warred
for shelf space with Elvis souvenirs from Nashville.  In an orgy of
unconventional print, layers of Omni magazines, MUFON newsletters
and back issues of The Lone Gunman lay scattered on file cabinets
and tables, threatening to spill to the floor with the slightest wisp
of air.  A slide projector gathered dust, its screen, half-furled,
standing nearby.  Sitting atop the VCR, a tower of videotapes was  
as stable as a house of cards.  Garish posters and gruesome
photographs stared down from the walls.  The desk - the desk did
not invite description.

    And amid the clutter, within the oasis of order, the silent
argument went on.

    //Mulder, be real!\\

    //Three hikers found in the forests of the Cascade Mountain
range, Scully, lost for four days.... Claiming to have seen an alien
spacecraft first hover and then land in a clearing-\\

    //But that's just the point!  They had been lost.  When they
finally staggered back into civilization, they were dehydrated,
disoriented and feverish.  They could have been delirious, maybe
hallucinating.\\

    He got up and paced, his arms gesticulating as mimelike,
he countered, //Then how do you explain their descriptions?  The
fact that their watches stopped.  That their compasses went crazy.  
The first degree burns on one side of their faces only.... Which they
claimed they got at night, I might add.\\

    The auburn haired woman rolled her eyes expressively.  //I
know what they 'claimed', Mulder.  But those descriptions aren't
anything that haven't been written a thousand times in science
fiction and in accounts of other alleged alien visitations - right
down to the saucer shape of the craft and the little green men that
jumped out of it!  And they *did* say green.\\

    He grimaced in recognition of the point she had scored, but
he was not about to let it be won cheaply.  //Hey, maybe they
*were* green.  Or... or... maybe they didn't see the color all that
clearly.\\

    //Okay....  Then what about the traces of cannabis in their
systems?\\

    Mulder stopped pacing and turned to her, startled out of
mindspeak.  "Cannabis?  They were stoned?"

    She grinned impudently up at him.  "Sorry partner, the tox
report came in an hour ago.  The screen showed traces of THC,
enough to prove that at some time from eight to sixteen hours
before they were found, they were very seriously stoned, indeed."

    "Which would cover the time they claim to have seen the
alien spacecraft."

    " 'Fraid so."

    "That doesn't mean they didn't see it," he persisted half-
heartedly.

    "No," she grudgingly agreed.  "But it does mean that they
were under the influence of drugs at the critical time, so - "

    " -so nothing they say can be used as evidence of alien
visitation. Shit!"  He threw himself in his chair and assumed a
comfortable slouch.  "I was really hoping with this one...."

    //I know, love.\\  A wave of amused sympathy came from
her as she pushed herself to her feet and strolled over to her
partner, her lover, her bondmate.  Hastily, she smothered a yelp
as he pulled her into his lap.

    //I think I'm due a little consolation, don't you think?\\  
His lips pressed hers, his tongue playfully stroking them.  His
arms came up around her and pulled her close.

    //Mulder!  We're in the office!\\

    //I'm aware of that.  But while you were wasting your time at
lunch, I stayed here and did the weekly bug sweep.  We're clean.
So,\\ he smiled mischievously, //we can carry on with impugnity.\\

    //And what if Skinner walks down here?\\

    He chuckled out loud. "Scully, to my knowledge he's been in
this office exactly twice in the past four years.  Why the hell would
he pick this moment to walk in on us?"

    "Maybe he's telepathic. You have to admit, his timing for
finding us when we don't want to be found is too uncanny to be
explained any other way."

    Her partner seemed to give this idea serious consideration
for several moments - until he heard the tinkle of laughter from her
mind.  He shrugged. "Hey, think about it - it could explain a lot.  
And we've certainly seen stranger things." His expression changed
as a thought occurred to him.  "Wait a minute... Scully, if the tox
screen results came back an hour ago, how come we just spent
the last forty-five minutes arguing about this case?"

    She grinned and shrugged.  //They say an occasional
argument is good for a relationship.  Besides, I like debating with
you.  I find it very... stimulating.\\

    Their lips met, and they were involved in a thorough
exploration of each other's mouths when they became aware of a
growing discomfort. Finally, they sprang apart.  "Is it getting
awfully warm in here, or is it just me?" Mulder muttered, absently
rubbing his chest.

    "Mulder - the crystal!"

    Impatiently he flicked his tie back over his shoulder and
unfastened the top buttons of his shirt. With a triumphant cry, he
pulled out the crystal that now glowed with a blue-white light as it
hung from its fine gold chain.  In seconds, the swirling, dancing
light of the crystal coalesced into the image of a familiar and
much-loved figure.

    "Reinald!  It's good to see you again.  We weren't expecting
to hear from you quite so soon....  Wait!  There's nothing the
matter with Shannon, is there?"

    "She is well.  But she is the reason I'm contacting you," he    
admitted.

    Scully cut in.  "Is there anything wrong, Reinald?"   The old
Mage had contacted them only the week before to announce that
Shannon and Andalor were to have a child.  The bondmates' initial
joy had given way to Mulder's fretting over Shannon's condition.  He
had spent most of his leisure time since then pouring over Scully's
medical books and working himself into a lather of anxiety, dwelling
on anything and everything that could go wrong.  His bondmate had
finally ordered the medical books off-limits - the waves of worry he
was throwing off were giving her a massive headache.  It had taken
her the better part of a day to reassure him that women had been
successfully giving birth for millions of years.  But Mulder's
closeness with the girl and his attendant fears for her health and
safety had left lingering doubts.  The message came through their
bond loud and clear - other 'women' were not his Shannon, the
troubled orphan he had taken under his wing, the girl that reminded
him so much of his sister Samantha.  He had lost everything and
everyone he was close to, all his life. Now his fears became Scully's
as she sought an answer to why the Mage would be calling.

    "Her time grows near, Warrior Healer Scully.  She asked me
to contact you both so that you could be here for the birth."

    "Al-already?" Mulder croaked.  "But you only told us last week
that she was pregnant.  How could she...?"

    "Have you already forgotten the Professor's lessons on the
gelflow of time, Mulder?"  The Mage's kindly eyes twinkled.  "In any
case, it is traditional for the taabsut of royalty to be present at
the birth."
    
    "*AT* the birth? B-but, Reinald!  I wasn't really her taabsut,
that was a fabrication.  Just a myth we concocted to give Shannon
the protection of family relationship when she first arrived in the
Realm."

    "Of course I am aware of that, dear boy, as are all your
friends here.  But what matters is what the beings of the Realm
believe. I'm afraid our little myth succeeded beyond our wildest
expectations.  Not only does most of the Realm believe you are
her taabsut - her advisor, her guardian - but they also believe you
and Hannu to be brothers, since the taabsut is usually related
in that manner.  I suppose it is only natural - you are not
dissimilar in appearance, and with the incredible talents for
magic you both have...."  Reinald sighed and frowned. "But there
remains the expectation for you to be present.  "In other words,  
if we don't observe all the traditions surrounding the birth of the
heir very strictly, it will invite speculation.  I would prefer not to
have to confess to the deception at this point.  As you know,
there are always those who will take advantage of such a situation,
to their own ends. I know the notice is short, but I wouldn't ask if
it were not really quite important that you be here for your part of
the Ritual of Royal Birth."

    Mulder wasn't shielding, so it wasn't difficult for Scully to
diagnose the source of his hesitation.  The idea of witnessing
any birth was enough to make him uneasy - very uneasy.  But
to be with Shannon, to see her in pain and not be able to do
anything, to have so much taking place, events beyond his
control....

    //It will be fine, my love.  *You* will be fine.\\  Scully sent
waves of reassurance his way, felt them absorbed like raindrops
in a desert.

    //But Scully, what if it isn't?  What if I screw up, and Shannon
is harmed by it?  What if -\\

    //Enough, Mulder.  I'll be there too, you know.\\  Her calm
confidence, her assurance washed over him, bathing his mind and
bringing it a measure of peace.

    //Just don't let them hand me the kid,\\ he mindspoke wryly,
stroking her cheek.  //I'd probably drop it.\\  He gazed down into her
eyes, wondering for the hundred thousandth time how he had gotten
so lucky.

    "Mulder?  Mulder, are you there? Warrior Healer Scully?"

    "Sorry, Reinald.  Yes, we're here."

    "I see you are a little disturbed.  Don't be, dear boy.
Everything is fine, couldn't be better.  Oh, and Healer Kyla would
like a word with Scully, if that's possible."

    "Uh... sure.  Sure, Reinald."

    Scully felt rather than saw the reaction from her bondmate, a
slight stiffening.  She turned questioning eyes from him and looked
into the crystal at the pale, serene face of the blond human.  "I'm
here, Kyla.  It's nice to see you again - it's been a long time."

    She smiled.  "Longer for me than for you, according to the
Professor.  I assume you will be accompanying Mage Mulder to the
Realm."  The low melodious voice made it more of a statement than
a question.

    With the problem in their bond resolved by Hannu, Mulder
and Scully had no difficulty - no physical difficulty - in separating
from each other's presence.  Nevertheless, they avoided separation
as much as they could, both keenly aware that their meaning, their
strength, their hearts and souls, lay in being together.  "Someone
has to keep an eye on him, Kyla.  You know how he tends to find
trouble," she replied in mock seriousness.

    "That I do," she smiled back.  "With the Goddess's help, this
journey will for once be a peaceful and happy one.  But I would be
glad of your presence.  This is the first birth in the Realm of the
child of an outworlder and a Realm native.  Such an event would be
momentous enough, but for that child also to be the Heir to the
Throne....  While I do not expect any difficulties, I admit I would
rest easier if I knew that you were going to be here, Healer Scully."

    //Me, too,\\ her bondmate added.

    "I would be most honored to assist you, Healer Kyla,"
Scully replied in the more formal speech of her Realm profession.

    Reinald's face swam into view once more, wreathed in smiles.
"Well, it's all settled then!  The Professor is ready, so if you will
just get yourselves into position, and - "

    "Wait, Reinald.  You mean now?  Right this minute?"

    "Is that a problem, dear boy?  The Professor has done the
calculations, and it appears that there is about to be - now what
did he call it...."

    "A backwash,"  the Professor's voice called from out of view.
"A backwash in the gelflow of time."  The image in the Oracle
Cloud swirled again and the Professor's face sharpened into focus.
"Mulder!  You're looking well, I'm happy to see.  Yes, as I was
saying, there's about to be a backwash.  Just a little one, you
understand, but it could make the calculations a bit tricky. Because
we're not precisely sure when you have to be here - even in the
Realm, that's in the hands of Mother Nature, you know - I'd like to
bring you through now.  When the backwash starts, it will become
very difficult indeed to bring you through with any degree of accuracy
as to time and place."

    "How long will this backwash last, Professor?" asked Scully.
"Will it be a problem getting us back to our world?"

    "Oh, no, no!  This is just temporary.  But I would hate for
you to miss the birth of Shannon and Andalor's child.  By the time
it will be necessary for you to return to your world, I'll have done
the calculations taking into account the backwash's effects.  It will
take a few Realm days, but it shouldn't be a problem."  The Oracle
Cloud shimmered again.

    "So Mulder, will you be joining us?"  Reinald peered anxiously
at the couple.

    "Just a moment, Mage, if you please."  Mulder turned to his
partner.  //What do you think, Scully?\\

    //I think it's a good thing it's Friday, we won't be missed over
the weekend.  I just wish we had the time to go home first.  This
isn't exactly the way I'd dress for a trip through the vortex and
arrival in the Realm.\\  She grimaced at her tailored suit and
impractical heels.  //Not to mention I have all those baby gifts I'd
started to amass at home.  But if it has to be now or never....\\  
Feeling an odd sense of disquiet in her mind, a sense that did not
originate with her, she searched his troubled face.  //What is it,
Mulder?\\

    He hesitated.  //...Before, when Reinald said everything
was just fine.... He's hiding something, Scully.  It's harder to tell
through the Oracle Cloud, and of course I'm out of practice, but I
would swear his aura flickered.  Something's wrong, maybe
something to do with Shannon. We have to go to the Realm, and
the sooner the better.\\

    //Are you sure your nerves aren't making you think you see
something that isn't there?\\

    //No.  No, I'm sure.  Something's wrong.\\

    //All right, love.  Then we go now.\\  She smiled reassuringly
up into the face of her bondmate, hoping to see the worried, pinched
look evaporate.  //Let's just hope the Professor can bring us through
somewhere close to Fairwoods Keep. I've already walked through
the forests of the Realm in high heels, and I can't say I enjoyed the
experience,\\ she said, referring to their first, inadvertent trip to
the land that was to become such a huge part of their lives.

    His expression cleared a little. //Not that I don't care about
your comfort, Scully, but at the moment I'm a little more concerned
about the effects of creating a vortex in the basement of the J.
Edgar Hoover Building.\\

    //Good God, Mulder, you don't think he's going to do it right
here, do you?  I can just imagine it tripping every alarm and
seismic detector in the place!\\

    Mulder picked up the crystal again.  "Uh, Professor - we're
in an office in the basement of FBI Headquarters.  Won't creating a
vortex here be a little, well ...noticeable?"

    "Don't worry about a thing, Mulder.  As long as you're alone
and out of sight where you are, there shouldn't be a problem.  This
will be a very small vortex, and extremely short-lived. All you need
is a clear space approximately three meters across.  Hannu and I
have made a few improvements in vortex creation. Oh, not without
a few glitches along the way here and there, but it should be safe
enough."

    The bondmates looked at each other warily.
    
    //Glitches?\\

    //*Should* be safe enough?\\

    Mulder shrugged and addressed the crystal once more.  "All
right, Professor.  Give us a minute to tie up some loose ends here.
I'll send through a signal when we're ready."

    "Wonderful, we'll be waiting.  But don't be too long.  The
backwash should occur quite soon now." The dancing lights of the
Oracle Cloud flickered and grew dim.

    Mulder tucked the crystal back inside his shirt and went
to the phone, pressing a speed-dial number.  "Hi Kim, is he in?....  
Okay, in that case could you please give him a message for me?  
Scully and I were just contacted by a source, and have to go meet
him this afternoon.  We'd reschedule if we could, but you know how
these things are.  Time is of the essence.  So I'm afraid the reports
on the Cascades case will have to wait for Monday....  Oh, that's
right, he's going away for a long weekend.  All right, they'll have
to wait until Tuesday, then....  Thanks, Kim...Yes, you too."  He
turned to his partner.  "I forgot. Skinner's going up to his cabin
for a long  weekend - he's taking Monday off."

    Scully frowned.  "That's not like him, Mulder.  That's not like
him at all.  I don't think he's taken a day off all year, except when
the building is actually closed for a holiday."

    He looked serious.  "I know.  He's been looking a little fried
lately. Somehow his reamings have just lost that sting they used
to have. All kidding aside, I've been concerned that maybe he's
burning out. God knows with what goes on around here, he'd be
justified in getting a little charred around the edges."  He shook
his head as if to dismiss the gloomy thoughts, and then a smile
lit his features.  "But - it's a break for us.  It gives us a little
leeway getting back from the Realm. And maybe Skinner will
be in such a good mood when he gets back from his time off
that he won't even ream us for being late with the reports."

    Scully shot him a 'yeah, right' look and took off her badge.

    "What are you doing?"

    She slid her holster off the waistband of her skirt.  "We
don't have any use for these in the Realm, and we'll only lose
them," she replied, slipping the items into her top drawer.  "Might
as well travel light."

    "Good point."  He followed her actions, stuffing the gun
and badge into the already bulging desk drawer with difficulty. He
moved to the center of the room, pushing back a table and the
projector screen, effectively clearing an area roughly ten feet in
diameter. "This should be enough space.  Ready?"  He smiled as
Scully joined him, and looped an arm around her slim waist.  The
other hand grasped the crystal.  He grounded, then focused his
energy to send a flash of light through the Oracle Cloud to signal
to his friends in the Realm.  Then they waited.

    At first, all they felt was a slight breeze.  Then, folders and
magazines blew open, their pages rifled by the ever-increasing
wind.  The air movement, diffuse and undirected at first, gradually
tightened around them, but the effects continued to be felt in other
parts of the room. Zephyrs caught and tugged at the posters on
the walls, stacks of magazines slid to the floor.  Documents and
forms swirled around their heads, surrounding them in a maelstrom
of wind and paper.  Scully's hands moved up in a vain attempt to
keep her hair from whipping into her eyes.  A low hum filled the
room, then quickly died.  Papers, suddenly released from the
violence of the wind, fluttered to the floor like becalmed kites.  

    The bondmates were gone.


            ~ ~ ~


    My head was pounding as I opened the door to the outer office
and stopped at Kim's desk.  "Any messages for me?"

    She looked up, cheerful and efficient as always.  "Yes, sir."  
She checked her message pad.  "The Director called to invite you to
a barbecue at his home on Sunday.  I sent your regrets.  The Section
Chief in VCU called, said it wasn't anything that couldn't wait until
Tuesday. And about ten minutes ago, Agent Mulder called.  He said
he and Agent Scully were going out to meet with a source and they
wouldn't be able to deliver the reports on the Cascades case until
after the weekend."

    God damn it!  Mulder and paperwork - there was always an
excuse.  I felt the familiar griping in my gut that usually heralded
an ulcer attack.  This was just one of the reasons I needed to get
away this weekend to my cabin in the mountains of Virginia.  Lots
of good clean air. Beautiful scenery.  Plenty of simple, hard physical
work.  And a chance to put my mind on hold for a while.  None of the
bullshit of the Bureau, no phone, no electricity - and no Mulder.
Much as I respected him, even liked him, I couldn't help but feel he
knew exactly what buttons to push to make me crazy.  Maybe that's
what comes of having an Oxford-trained psychologist for an employee.  
"Get him on the phone, Kim. Now," I said through clenched teeth.  I
strode into my office, slamming the door behind me, and instantly
regretted it.  I reminded myself to apologize to Kim.  God knows she
had to take a lot of shit, and none of it her fault.

    I sat at my desk, locking away folders, tidying the surface.  I
planned to leave before the Washington traffic had my stomach in
an even bigger uproar than Mulder had already managed.  God help
the son of a bitch if he delayed me- There was a buzz and I picked
up the phone.  "Yes?"

    "I'm sorry, sir.  I've tried Agent Mulder's office twice and I
keep getting a busy signal. Would you like me to run down there and
tell him- "

    "No.  Thanks anyway, Kim.  He's obviously still there if the
line's busy.  I'll go down there myself on the way out."

    I locked my desk and returned the keys to my pocket.
Scanning the room on my way out the door, I noticed an ashtray,
half full of stubbed-out Morleys.  Sighing, I picked it up and dropped
the whole thing in the trash. It wouldn't matter. I'd thrown out at
least two dozen ashtrays.  Another always appeared, and that
bastard always refilled it with his stinking cigarettes.  Again, my
gut cramped painfully. Another great thing about my cabin - no
Cancerman.

    I locked my office on the way out.  I really don't know why
I bothered - force of habit I guess.  God knows anyone with an
interest in its contents would get in, key or no key. I sighed again.  
I really needed this break.  My body needed it, my mind yearned for
it and my immortal soul - if I still had one - cried out for it.  I
couldn't remember a time I felt so jaded, so fed up and frustrated.

    "Kim, I'm just going down to Mulder's office and then I'm
out of here.  Why don't you take off early, beat the weekend traffic
yourself.  Take Monday too, if you want."  Apologies don't come
easily to me. I guess I felt that a day off from me might be a good
substitute.  Actions speak louder than words, as they say.  She
smiled and looked sincerely pleased.  I don't deserve that woman.

    "Thank you, sir.  Have a good weekend off."

    "Thanks, Kim.  You too."

    It felt good to be on my way out the door without a briefcase
full of work to do at home.  The car was already packed with jeans
and sweaters, hiking boots and provisions for the weekend.  My
skin started to itch with longing to be out of my goddamn suit and
into something that was more - well... more me, I guess.  Just one
quick stop - and Christ help Mulder if it wasn't quick....

    I got off the elevator at the basement.  Nobody but Mulder
could have stood it down here.  I wondered how Scully put up with
it.  The hallways had gotten even more claustrophobic, more lined
with junk from every office in the building than the last time I had
ventured down here.  The air smelled musty, with a touch of -
ozone?  Dismissing the improbable idea from my mind, I knocked
on Mulder's door perfunctorily and went in.  

    What the hell - ?

    What the hell had gone on here?  It looked like someone had
turned the office upside down in a frantic attempt to find something.  
Stunned, I picked up the phone from where it lay buzzing on the
floor, returned it to the desk, and tried to make sense out of what I
was seeing.  Mulder's desk - well, his desk was always a disaster,
I knew that from comments I had heard Scully make.  But even on
Scully's, file folders lay open and gutted, their contents scattered
all over the room.  The projector screen leaned drunkenly against
the file cabinets.  Magazines and videotapes littered the floor and
Mulder's 'I Want to Believe' poster hung precariously by one corner
from a single tack in the wall.  The place looked like a cyclone had
hit it.  My head pounded as the muscles in the back of my neck
tensed. Cyclone - disaster. And when I thought of disaster, only
one name came to mind - Cancerman.

    Automatically I went to the phone to call Security, then
abruptly stopped, my hand resting on the receiver.  It's an
unfortunate fact of life that when you swim with the sharks, you
begin to think like one.  You have to, to survive.  I decided to do
a little investigation on my own before showing my hand.  It's the
business - it  makes you like that.  Mulder hadn't cornered the
market on paranoia.  There was always plenty to go around.

     I was assuming someone had waited for Mulder and Scully to
leave, then went into their office. Could this be a little practical
joke from one of Mulder's tormentors in the Bureau?  If so, that
someone would be out of a job next week.  I had just about had it
with that crap.  Mulder would never say anything, but I could see
the hurt for him in Scully's eyes. Scratch one of the partners, and
the other bled.

    My blood chilled as I thought of the Cancerman again.  If
one of his henchmen had searched the room, they had done a
piss-poor job of it.  Either that, or they were sending a message
that they could do anything they wanted and get away with it.  I
was shaken by my next thought - had they abducted the two of
them, God only knew for what purpose?  Heart thudding in my
ears, I searched the room.  From what I could tell, there were no
bloodstains, and I relaxed a bit. If someone had tried to take them,
they wouldn't have gone quietly or easily.  With Mulder's track
record as a poor insurance risk, he wouldn't have gotten out of that
room in one piece, so the lack of bloodstains was comforting.  The
furniture was still roughly where I remembered it should be.  No
overturned chairs....  Looking at the mess, I began to doubt that
a struggle had taken place.

    But what then?  I collapsed into Mulder's chair, my elbows
on my knees, holding my pounding head.  Then my eyes lighted
on the partially opened drawer in front of me, the glint of metal
snaring my attention. With difficulty, I pulled the jammed drawer
out all the way.  There, shoved among papers and cassettes, was
Mulder's service weapon and badge.  

    Christ.  Had he quit the Bureau? Finally flipped out, trashed
his office and walked out, never to return?  I vaulted out of the
chair and rushed to Scully's desk.  There, neatly stashed in the top
drawer of her desk were her badge and weapon.

    Now I was really worried.  Had Mulder convinced his partner
to leave, too?  That just didn't make sense, not from someone like
Agent Scully. Or even from Mulder, when I really thought about it.  
I didn't doubt that the day might come when, sick to death of all
the bullshit, either one of them might resign.  But like this?  
Without a word to me?  That I couldn't accept.  Odd as Mulder
was sometimes, that wasn't his style, and it certainly wasn't
Scully's.  I sat down in Scully's chair and forced myself to think
straight. Their presence at the Bureau was vital, as far as I was
concerned.  If anyone could ferret out that Morley-smoking SOB's
agenda, it was those two.  They were two of the best agents in
the Bureau, and possibly the only ones unencumbered by dreams
of taking over my position.  God knows neither of them had
succumbed to the nauseating brown-nosing that goes on routinely
around here.

    I tried not to think about my personal feelings for them - I
had enough to deal with without thinking about the personal loss
it would be not to have them to depend on. Much as Mulder could
drive me nuts, he was brilliant and he was a man of honor, one of
a rapidly dying breed.  If there's one attribute I prize above all
others, it's honor - adherence to a strict code of ethics, personal
integrity.  Mulder had it by the carload.  And Scully - God, Scully
was just about perfect.  A little rigid, perhaps.  A little too
personally involved with her partner, unless I missed my guess.  
But a hell of an agent, one any Section Chief would kill to have
working for him.  And with no less integrity than Mulder. I forced
my mind away from the desolation of those thoughts and attempted
to put my years of training into overdrive.

    I got up and walked the perimeter of the room, looking for
clues, any sign at all that would tell me what had happened here.
Absently, I noted a draft on the back of my neck.  The training must
have taken over with a vengeance, because I was in a crouch with
my weapon drawn and aimed toward the door in a heartbeat.  But
the door remained closed. And there were no windows.  The
dehumidifier clanked and gasped, but didn't throw any air to speak of.  
Perhaps a fan....  I got up from my crouch and searched, but could
find no fan, could find no source whatsoever for the increasing draft.  
I stood in the center of the room, trying to figure out where the
breeze was coming from.  Breeze, hell. It was a wind, swirling around
me in an ever-tightening circle.  I heard a low hum, and my nose
picked up the odor of ozone.  As the hum increased, I suddenly felt
lightheaded, and felt myself falling, falling....


End of Chapter One
    

Chapter Two

    I woke up to pain, face-down in grass and deep brown earth.
A groan escaped as I rolled over and automatically began to take
inventory. My voice worked. I found a few bruises, including a very
sore right shin, but nothing seemed seriously damaged. I must have
fallen down the hill behind my cabin....

    But I didn't remember going to the cabin. Squinting as I rubbed
the dirt out of my eyes, I tried to recall what had happened to me. I
remembered going to the basement office to make sure Mulder and
Scully turned in their paperwork on time, and finding them gone and
the office trashed. Then there was a wind, and a noise... a flash of
light... falling.... But how on earth did I end up here? Where the
hell *was* here?

    Pushing myself to my feet, I ignored the pounding ache in
my head and tried to focus on my surroundings. I was in an incredibly
peaceful woodland glade, with sunlight gleaming down through a canopy
of green and blue lea-.... Green and *blue* leaves? I shook my head,
blinked hard, and looked again. I reached up to take off my glasses
with some vague thought about light refraction distorting colors, but
my hand touched only the skin of my face.  Evidently in my fall my
glasses had come off.  A brief search revealed them lying nearby in
the dirt.  I picked them up, brushed them off and put them on.  Damn.  
The leaves were still definitely green and *blue*.  Unbidden, a scene
from "Alice In Wonderland" ran through my mind - the deck of cards
frantically painting the white roses red.... I shook my head again.
I'd been around Mulder too long.  Who would paint leaves blue?

    Now that my eyes were open, though, other peculiarities began
to seize my attention. The flowers, for instance... purple bulbs with
orange fingers protruding outward. The shape of the leaves on the odd
plant with circular limbs. The sounds of the birdcalls, like the
whistling of a flute in the wind. It was all nearly familiar, but
strange at the same time. Normal, yet not quite right.

    It didn't make any sense....

    But I was seeing it with my own eyes, and rubbing the dirt
around on my face wasn't changing anything.

    Maybe I was dreaming... or drugged....  God knows that
wouldn't be past any of Mulder's enemies. Perhaps I had stumbled
into some trap laid for him and Scully. Perhaps I was simply dreaming
while my body rested next to theirs in some secret government lab
somewhere...

    No! That was not something I wanted to think about. Even
guessing at what they may have done to Scully in the past made me
ill. The thought that they could be doing things to me...
    
    Maybe I simply fell and hit my head. Or I passed out from
stress and exhaustion. Neither was exactly good for my tough ex-Marine
image, but I could live with that. Assuming I was alive, of course....

    That was definitely another thought that needed to be shelved.
This had to be just an odd, unusually vivid dream. I had to believe I
would wake up soon and all this would fade away....
    
    I yelled out inadvertently, as I was bitten by the biggest damn
bug I'd seen in years, since the jungles of Vietnam. What the hell was
that thing? I rolled down the sleeves of my shirt and buttoned the
cuffs, having no intention of providing that thing's dinner. It's not
something I wanted well-known, but I detest bugs, especially biting
ones. Vietnam taught a lot of hard lessons about the damage they
could cause, ones I learned well.

    Well, fine. That bite hurt. Whatever was going on here,
whether I was dreaming or not, it certainly *seemed* real. And I was
stuck with it until I managed to wake up.

    But it didn't seem like a nightmare. In fact, the air smelled
wonderful. The scents were different - odd, but nice. Rather like a
combination of a fancy French perfume and pine, with something...
 unique... thrown in. The trees were lovely, the ground looked
perfectly ordinary, and actually it was all very peaceful. Not a bad
place to take a walk....

    The forest was endless, seeming to go on and on and on....
My shoes were ruined - they were made for sitting at desks, not for
traipsing around in the forest primeval. And my clothes hadn't fared
much better. Tugging my tie loose, I glared down at myself.  My slacks
were torn and stained, one sleeve of my shirt was ripped, and if I
wasn't mistaken the back seam had let go completely between my
shoulder blades. I had no idea what happened to the jacket I'd been
carrying. The suit was definitely a goner, and it had been damned
expensive. Someone was going to pay for this - and it wasn't going to
be me. I could feel the muscles in my jaw twitch and my stomach
lurch with the stress, and I clamped down on the emotion as quickly
as I could. "Relax," I told myself aloud, my voice sounding tight and
strangely lost in the midst of the florid greenery.

    I took a few deep breaths, trying to slow the accumulation
of acid in my belly, wishing I had those Rolaids from my desk.  I
wasn't going to find any here, certainly.  I needed to keep moving
until I found a road.

    As for which way to head... who knew?  A glance down at my
wrist told me my watch had stopped.  I suppose any direction would
have been fine, so long as I walked until I woke up. But the idea that
this was a dream was fading fast. It was too real. The smells, sounds,
sights, sensations of this strange place were far more vivid than any
dream I'd ever had. And it was going on far too long. But if it was
real, then....

    Confusion clouded my mind and I stumbled over a protruding
tree root. Grabbing instinctively at a branch to keep my balance, I
barely missed impaling my hand on a lethal-looking thorn.  Drawing my
hand back carefully, I drew a shaky breath.  The first stirrings of
panic pushed my heartrate up.

    Pushing myself forward again was more difficult than it should
have been. I work hard to keep myself in tip-top shape, and the Bureau
physician said I was in prime condition for a man my age. My age! I'm
not *that* old - in fact, I've never felt better physically in my life.
Physically - which just left emotionally and mentally... And those I
wasn't too sure of lately....

    I had not lost my mind.  I repeated it like a mantra. I had been
under a lot of stress - Mulder and Scully generate more between the
two of them and the X-Files than the rest of my division combined -
but I hadn't cracked.  I just needed a little R & R.  That's all. I am
fine, I said to myself. I have to be fine. Just because I'm obviously
hallucinating is no reason to lose confidence in my own mind....

    Right.

    What the hell was THAT??

    Freezing, I lifted my head, every nerve in my body tingling.  
Sensations rushed over me and my memory went wild. Green oak - or
oak-like - trees and a thick carpet of leaves and weeds blurred in my
mind's eye, and gave way to tropical vines and the gnarled trunks of
jungle trees.  Years dropped away, and I was crouched again beside
a lagoon, buried waist-deep in water rushes, the sounds and scents
of Vietnam overwhelming me. The pistol was a familiar weight in my
palm, comforting.  The rustle of leaves became the distant hum of a
helicopter. The call of a beast was a guerilla signal, whining low and
deep, circling around me, creeping closer and closer....

    Out of the thick bushes leapt a form, burnished red in the
failing sunlight. I caught a glimpse of its eyes, burning amber, and
then nothing but the spinning sky as I was hurled to the ground.

    I landed with a thud that jolted the length of my spine
painfully. I threw my left arm up to protect my head, the right
bringing to bear the cold weight of my gun. My fingers tightened
on the trigger once, twice - but instead of the report of the Sig
Sauer, there was an impotent clicking. Goddamn, fucking, bloody,
useless thing.

    Not totally useless. I improvised. It made a good club.

    The beast howled in my ear, an unearthly sound that made my
skin crawl. Fear kicked adrenaline into my bloodstream. Stars sparked
before my eyes. The urge to fight, to survive, was stronger at that
moment than any time since 'Nam. I wanted to live. My arm swung
again and again, bashing the metal of the gun against the skull of the
beast with all the force I could muster. It howled, tearing at me with
its claws.  They sliced across my chest, opening long thin cuts that
slowly wept blood.  I barely felt it.

    Shock. I knew that well.  The pain would come later.

    My body twisted and writhed, instinct and luck managing
to keep those deadly teeth a hair's breadth from my face. A distant
part of my mind noted the foul breath, the coarseness of its fur. I
heard a cry with a hint of hysterical laughter mixed in and was
alarmed to realize it came from me. Pain tore at my arm, my shoulder.
Streaks of glaring red light blinded my eyes. There was the salty
sting of sweat in open wounds.

    No. I *won't* die here, I vowed.

    The gun was knocked from my hand and I felt a new surge of
panic. I fought desperately, twisting, turning... reaching... reaching
for something, anything....  My hands grasped something solid - steel,
warm and slippery with blood, and I held onto it for dear life.  I
swung....

    Again, and then again. The cry of a wounded animal... was it
mine or the beast's, or did it belong to the both of us?
    
    Silence.
    
    A heavy weight descended, crushing the breath from my aching
lungs. I pushed... twisted.... Darkness washed over me.

                ~ ~ ~
    
    Light... Waves of golden light surrounded me, warming me.
Comforting warmth, like sinking into a hot bath. A cool breeze
swept my forehead, bringing with it the smell of spring flowers,
cherry blossoms and lilac.  A low, female, other-worldly voice
whispered in my ear, 'Safe... Sleep....'  I was happy to comply.

    I woke sometime later. Struggling to stay in the comfort of
sleep, I reached for the blanket and snuggled against it. It felt
strange... thick... wet....
    
    Something was wrong. Everything smelled funny. I felt... God,
I felt like bloody hell.  I hurt everywhere.

    My eyes opened to moonlight. I squinted upwards at a star-
filled sky, brightly illuminated by a moon. God, I was seeing double.
Two moons? Was I drunk?  I squeezed my eyes shut and looked again.
Two moons.  Solidly in focus.

    I shoved the heavy damp fur laying on me away from my legs
and abdomen. It wasn't a blanket, it was a dead... uh, a dead
*something*. I got myself up on one knee with some effort, favoring
my wounded arm, and stared at the beast. There was enough light
from the moon - moons - to see it clearly. I still had no idea what it
was - I'd never seen anything like it. Almost as big as a mountain
lion, marked something like a tiger. Except orangy-red and brown.
Long, curved fangs. And a crushed skull. I wondered just how the hell
I had managed that. Well, somehow I had, and I wasn't about to
question the luck of it. Maybe later... a long time later....

    But for now...  For now I had to keep myself from turning into
a gibbering lunatic. Assuming that I wasn't one already. But my
senses, especially my torn and bleeding shoulder, were all screaming
at me that all this was very, very real. And if it was real... then....

    Where in heaven, hell and earth was I?

    Sometimes it's the littlest things that drive you over the
edge. It was almost comic. I was lost, alone, God-only-knows-where,
I had just been nearly eaten by some kind of catlike beast, and it
took the breaking of a glass lens to break me.  My glasses had once
more hit the deck, probably in the fight with the... thing. I put them
on, only to find the left lens cracked.  My clumsy attempts to more
closely align the edges of the glass resulted in the entire lens
falling out of the frame into my hand.

    My voice nearly choked me as every curse I ever heard came
bubbling up from some dark pit inside me.  On and on I went, until the
utter absurdity of the situation skewed the anger into hysterical
laughter.  I laughed until I was breathless and my body shook, until
I was no longer sure if I was laughing or crying or both... Oh God,
yes, I've lost it *big* time, I thought.  If only Mulder could see me
now....         

    Now there was a sobering thought.

    A groan escaped as I wiped at my face with a tattered sleeve.
Mulder. And Scully! If I was here, wherever here was, were they here,
too? Could I find them? Would Mulder have an explanation for this?

    A real chuckle broke past my lips. Oh yes, Mulder would have
an explanation. It would be fantastic, totally unbelievable, and if I
knew the brilliant bastard at all, utterly accurate and absolutely
unprovable. Still, he had come up with a few pieces of solid evidence
now and then. That thing from the New Jersey sewers was an obvious
example. Oh shit, the look on his face when I didn't react to that the
way he had expected. It was almost worth everything else - the fine
line I was desperately trying to walk. All of my unappreciated
attempts to protect him. The risks I took. Just to see that look of
utter confusion on those mobile features.

    Oh Mulder, I thought - you give away so much so easily. Every
emotion, every thought is reflected in your face, in your haunted eyes.
Now, Scully - oh, she had a better poker face than a Marine sergeant.
Almost better than I have. But not you, Mulder. Never you. It's all
there for those who've learned to look.

    Where was he now?? Blast him - if he got me into this, he'd
damn well better get me out!

    Blinking, frowning fiercely at the broken spectacles clutched
in my filthy hand, I imagined the lecture I would give that
irrepressible, irresponsible, idiosyncratic... genius. I sighed.
This really wasn't doing me the slightest bit of good, even if it
did make me feel marginally better. Grimly placing the metal frames
back on my nose and ears and tucking the broken lens in a pocket, I
squinted through the one remaining lens. Night had fallen, and the
forest took on an aspect of menace. The trees threw wavering shadows,
rustling in the fingers of a chilly wind. Shapes that had held some
familiarity before were now alien, unknown and unforgiving. In the
distance I could hear the howl of beasts, circling somewhere in the
surrounding wilderness. Searching for prey.

    Which I did not want to be.

    Surely there had to be civilization somewhere. I damped down
the thought that it could be miles upon miles away. I was not about to
give up now. I'd survived Vietnam, I'd survived Washington politics,
I'd even survived brushes with Mulder's implacable enemies. I would
survive this. I had to. The alternative was unacceptable.

    So I gathered the remnants of my strength, took my bearings,
and pushed myself forward. It was slow going, stumbling over tree
roots and rocks. The dimness beneath the trees was bad enough, but
the scratches in the remaining lens added more distortion, breaking
the world up into weirdly-shaped pieces. Finally, I took my glasses
off in disgust, sticking them in the pocket with the broken lens.  I
could do without them.  But I needed to keep moving, even if it was
painfully slow. The chill was seeping in, making my injuries ache.  
Pure willpower kept me going, forcing me to take each step as I
trudged through the forest, a single litany going through my mind....

    Someone was going to answer for this. Someone was going to
answer for this... someone was going to *pay* for this!

    Eventually, as I walked, it sank in that I could see far better
than I should be able to at night in a heavily wooded area.  A pastel
luminescence was reflecting off the shiny surfaces of bark and
leaves, pooling in small clearing, and sparkling in droplets of dew.
Stopping, I turned to look around me, searching for the source of
the light.  My eyes were drawn inexorably upward.

    Upward. Towards the twin moons hanging heavy and pregnant
high above the tips of the trees.

    I blinked.  I guess that's when it finally sank in.

    TWO MOONS.

    My chest ached as the breath left me in a rush. I staggered
slightly as realization dawned and my knees went weak.  I could no
longer deny the evidence of my senses. I swore to myself that I was
dreaming and would wake up soon. I pinched the goose-bumped flesh
of my forearms, and felt the pain. But nothing changed.

    And when the moment faded, I was left standing in an alien
forest - cold, dirty, hungry, thirsty, exhausted, and more frightened
that I can ever remember being.

    I'm not sure how long I stood there.  The sounds didn't
register at first.  Sounds... Feet striking earth.  The hard pulse
of hooves.  Voices.  People!

    I spun around in a slow circle, the alien twin moons
momentarily forgotten.  People meant roads, and roads led to civilization.  
The noise was getting slowly louder and I could now make out other
sounds.... The jangle of bells, a creaking noise, and voices echoing
in a rhythmic chant.  The words were musical but unintelligible and
decidedly not English.  But I could tell the direction now.

    I ran through the undergrowth with desperate speed.  Old
training and my injuries had me running in a half-crouch.  Caution
was warning me to slow down, to get a look at the people before I
exposed myself....  But the warning went unheeded.  I crashed through
onto an unpaved road directly in the path of some sort of horse-drawn
caravan, and opened my mouth to yell for help.  Surely one of these
people could help, could at least tell me where I was.  These
people....

    Weren't people.

    I froze. My heart stopped. My breath caught in my lungs and
no sound came out of my mouth. For one moment I thought I might
actually pass out.  Then everything came back with a rush and
my blood began to pound with new adrenaline.  Fight-or-flight, but I
was rooted to the ground with shock.

    These were aliens. They had to be. Little green aliens. In the
blue gleam of their lanterns I could see them clearly. Short and thick
of stature, they were dressed in brightly colored clothes. Their bodies
were round, their faces inordinately ugly. They bared their teeth at
me - and a sudden jolt of relief burst through my veins.  Those teeth
were big, solid, in multiple rows, but utterly blunt. From some corner
of my mind came the reassurance -- blunt teeth meant vegetable
eaters. So they probably didn't see me as dinner. *Probably.*

    It suddenly penetrated that while these creatures were
obviously surprised to see me, they weren't frightened or horrified.
Maybe I didn't seem as strange to them.... Maybe they'd seen humans
before?

    In fact, some of them appeared to be quite excited to see
me. A few were jumping up and down and... laughing? Even the
possibility that I was the object of their amusement made me struggle
to regain my dignity. I snapped my jaw shut, straightened my back and
glared down at them - they were barely waist-height.  I opened my
mouth to speak at the same time they did, then found myself stymied
by the language barrier. Whatever they were speaking, it certainly
wasn't English. Or any other language I'd ever heard.  What were the
chances that they'd understand me?

    "Greetings," I breathed.  Oh, great, now I sounded like Mr.
Spock on some Star Trek episode.

    The creatures merely gazed at me, waiting.  Two of them
scurried away and dived into one of the covered wagons.

    "My name is Walter Skinner," I tried again, "and I seem to be
lost. By any chance, have you seen a couple of... uh... friends of
mine? A tall man named Mulder," I held my hand up head-high for a
moment, then moved it down to the level of my chest, "and a short
red-haired woman named Scully?"

    Abruptly the entire group broke into loud chatter. I couldn't
understand a word, but several of them were gesticulating wildly.
Three more began to circle me, though keeping a safe distance. Then
the largest one of the group - whose head barely reached my stomach
 - stepped closer and waved at me.

    I looked at him.  When he saw he had my attention, he spoke.
There was a spate of gibberish, but two words I understood perfectly.
'...*****Mulder****Scully****...' My heart leapt like a bloodhound
picking up a scent.  Of course, I thought wryly.  If there's anything
strange going on, you can bet Mulder will be in the middle of it.  Of
course these creatures would know him.

    "Mulder, Scully," I repeated firmly.

    His face crinkled up in what I assumed was a grin.  He
gestured at me again, speaking at length in that strange, musical
language. It was obvious that he wanted to me to come with him.  
I was unsure about his intentions, but at this point I didn't really
have a better option. Since they had wagons hopefully I wouldn't
have to do much more walking. Besides, if he knew Mulder and Scully's
names, then there was at least a chance he might take me to them.

    So I followed. His face crinkled again, and he led me toward
the back of a wagon. The curtains parted and out poked the head of
another one of these creatures. His eyes lit up as he saw me and he
broke into a rapid exchange with my larger guide. It took a few
minutes, but they obviously came to some agreement, for my guide
hurried off and the little one hopped down from the wagon to stand in
front of me.

    Unlike the others, this one was wearing some kind of cloak
over his tunic. It was long and dyed a deep, solid blue with lighter
blue around the edges. The others appeared to treat him respect as
he led me down the length of the caravan, so I figured that he must
be a leader of some sort.

    We stopped at a small wagon at the very back of the wagon
train. He peered up at me for a moment, then pointed to his chest
and said firmly, "Piteer." Then he pointed at me.

    Well, that was plain enough.  He was giving me his name, and
wanted mine.  When he repeated his movements I responded to his
out-thrust finger with "Skinner".

    "Sssskinneer," he echoed. Not perfect, but definitely close
enough. I nodded, then mimicked him in reverse, trying to say his
name the way he'd said it. "Skinner, Piteer."  He grinned and
bobbed his head in obvious approval and I tried to return his smile.
he said something that sounded encouraging, then gestured for me
to climb up onto the front seat of the wagon.  I did, gingerly, as it
was made to accommodate bodies much smaller than mine.  'Piteer'
nimbly hopped up beside me and took the reins, deftly maneuvering
the horses around until we were heading the opposite direction from
the rest of the wagons. Loud noises, the clatter of hooves, and
shouted voices sounded behind us as the caravan started down the
narrow road away from us. 'Piteer' urged our horses forward.

    "Where are we going?" I felt compelled to ask, even though I
had little hope of being understood. My companion began to chatter,
frowned, then abruptly smiled. Pointing ahead of us, he said clearly,
"Mulder...Scully..."

    Did I dare I hope that meant what it sounded like?  "Mulder
and Scully are that way?" I asked hopefully, pointing ahead as he had
done.

    He beamed at me like a teacher with a favorite student, nodding
and bobbing his head.  He pointed and repeated "Mulder, Scully" once
more. Then he sat back and snapped the reins, urging the horses along
the road.

    Making myself as secure and comfortable as possible on the
too-small seat, I tried to come to terms with this new turn of events.  
Staring sightlessly out at the double-moon-lit countryside, I could
only hope that this little creature was leading me to my agents. To
safely.  To the only two people who might be able to explain what
had happened to me.


End of Chapter Two


Chapter Three


    The strange constellations - the Snowbeast and the Woodscat,
The Mage and The Potter - sparkled above the two figures unsteadily
pulling themselves up from the dewy grass of the meadow.

    Scully took a few deep breaths to clear the vertigo from her
head before gazing up at the resplendent canopy.  She felt her
bondmate close behind her and leaned back against his chest.  
"Amazing, isn't it?" she murmured, bathed in light of the stars and
the twin moons.  "There's nothing like this. No feeling like it, no
sight like it.  Unfamiliar and exotic... and at the same time,
peaceful, serene... home."

    "I know what you mean."  His breath went up in little clouds
as he spoke, his hands rubbing her shoulders and arms to ward off
the chill of the night. "Although I think that serenity is about end."

    She spun in his arms, tense, concerned.  "Why, Mulder?  Do
you sense something wrong?"

    "No.  I 'sense' Aldara and Jourdain coming through the trees,"
he chuckled, pointing.

    "'Dara!"  Scully whooped, and ran off across the meadow as
fast as her high heels would carry her.

    Shivering a little, he watched as a grinning Jourdain passed
the two hugging women, and approached him.  They clasped forearms
in the manner of the Realm before embracing warmly.

    "Mage Mulder, you're looking well.  Oddly attired and a little
pale, to be sure, but otherwise well."

    Mulder smiled wanly and launched into fluent New Realm.  
"You've been through the vortex, Jourdain - twice. When the Professor
said that he and Hannu had made some improvements, I was hoping
that eliminating the travel sickness might be one of them.  Evidently
not."

    "Damned vortex," growled the grizzled soldier.  "I stand by
my opinion - it's no way for a being to travel.  Except, my friend,
that it brings you and Warrior Healer Scully back to us, and for
that, I allow, we must be grateful to it.  It's good to have you
back."  

    "It's wonderful to be back, Jourdain.  You have no idea how
much Scully and I have missed this place."

    The Captain of the Guard looked around, puzzled.  "No
travel sacks?"

    "We weren't given very much notice.  Understandable, all
things considered."  Mulder shrugged.  "Unfortunately, it means we
weren't able to stop for gifts."

    "Or warm clothing, it would seem.  Gifts I don't care about,
but we can't have you requiring the Healer quite so early in your
visit."  Jourdain unfastened the heavy gold clasp of his cloak.  "If
it would be no insult for you to take the cloak of a soldier, please
use this.  You're cold, and it is yet some distance to the castle."

    "I remember.  And it's no insult, it's an honor.  Thank you."  
Mulder wrapped himself gratefully in the warm folds of the dark
green cloak.  "It was summer in our world. The change is refreshing,
but a bit of a surprise."  He looked over to see Aldara fastening her
cloak around Scully and then the two started for the castle.  The men
trailed behind.  "And how is Shannon?"

    Jourdain's face froze in a jovial grin, his cheeks trembling
with the effort.  "She is well, she is well....  We had a fine harvest
this season-cycle," he continued heartily.  "A good thing, as the
weather has turned unseasonably cold."

    Mulder kept his pace steady, but his eyes slid over to observe
the big warrior.  "You know, in my world, when someone changes the
subject that quickly - especially, changes it to the topic of the
weather - it's because there's something he doesn't want to talk
about," he commented mildly.  He felt the familiar heaviness of dread
in the pit of his stomach.  "What is it, Jourdain?  What's wrong with
Shannon?"

    "By the Blood of the Dark Creatures!  ...I told Reinald it was
a mistake to send me to meet you!  I have no gift for dissembling, I
told him...."  He sighed.  "Forgive me, Mulder. Shannon is well, she
is.  But her Time has not been free from more than its share of
concerns.  Reinald and Andalor wished to tell you themselves after
you arrived.  Knowing the depth of your feeling for Her Majesty, they
thought that you might...overreact."  He looked over to gauge the
effect of his words on his friend.

    "Me?  Overreact?"  With some difficulty, Mulder fought down
the urge to break into a run for the castle.  They entered the woods
on the wide, well-trodden path, the two women twenty meters ahead
of them.  They still chattered away cheerfully in the soft, melodious
sounds of New Realm.  Aldara must be better at dissembling, he
mused.

    "It is well-known that you sometimes think first with your
heart, Mage Mulder.  No offense intended, of course."

    "And none taken."  He sighed.  "Actually, I guess that's a
pretty fair assessment....  So that's why Reinald didn't come to meet
me himself - he knew I would see the change in his aura.  Well, I
saw it anyway, through the Oracle Cloud.  I was just hoping I was
mistaken."

    "Ah, well.  'Tis not so bad as you may think.  I admit to
similar concerns, however. Aldara's own Time was difficult, and had
it not been for Healer Corvay, I might have lost Aldara, and Daanna
too."  The big soldier shook his head.  "Of course, we are but men;
the women take these things in their stride.  Queen Shannon is
herself serene, while Andalor has made a pest of himself with Kyla,
summoning her at all hours for everything and anything.  The first
time the wee one moved, I thought surely we'd have to revive him."

    "Poor kid.  How's he doing otherwise?"

    Jourdain grunted.  "Sometimes I think times of peace and
prosperity are the worst of all.  Although Goddess knows there have
been few enough of them lately....  Still, they offer no distraction
from the mischief of the Noble Houses."

    "The Houses?  Are they still at it?  But I thought the Houses
were moribund, after the deaths of so many of their most powerful
leaders."  Mulder grimaced, thinking back to the horrific day when
the Dark Queen brought down the teeming Great Hall in her prelude
to battle.  The carnage had been terrible, with the heads of Dordinal
and Maalfees among the first to fall.

    "Well, you know - scum always rises to the top.  There never
seems to be a shortfall of ignorant young nobles vying for power."

    "Surely Ranfaus remains loyal."

    "Ah, yes.  House Ranfaus has been a staunch supporter of
Andalor, thank the Goddess."

    "Who took over after Mandor?"  One of the most severely
injured had been the wise and loyal Lord Mandor, Mulder recalled
with a stab of regret.  His fidelity to Andalor in a time of terrible
turmoil had given the young king badly needed support.  And his
generosity in canceling the betrothal agreement between his
daughter Livirnea and the King had made Shannon and Andalor's
union possible.

    "But Lord Mandor survived, Mulder!  I forgot that you would
have no way of knowing.  In fact, he not only survived, but he is well
enough to head Ranfaus."

    "Really?  That's wonderful news!  But how - "  The men stopped
to gravely return the salutes of the guards at the portcullis before
continuing through to the cobbled courtyard.

    "Reinald will turn me into a field-beast if I tell you all the
news, Mulder,"  Jourdain protested, smiling.

    "Fat chance.  All right, no more questions.  Except one -
where are we headed?"

    "Reinald's quarters, of course.  For tea and food and the
rest of the news.  I don't know how many of the others will still be
up - it's quite late."  He looked affectionately at the young Mage
who, with his Companion, meant so much to the Realm.  "I'm glad
you've come, Mulder.  Aldara has talked of little else for days but
the chances of your coming back.  You've been gone a long time,
my friend."

    "Too long, Jourdain.  Too long."

    The men followed Scully and Aldara through the archway into
the sleeping castle.  They walked along the stone passageways
flickering with torchlight and echoing with their footsteps. Climbing
the final winding stone staircase, they reached a thick wooden door
inlaid with iron strips.  Reinald answered their knock himself.  "Ah,
they're here!  Lishla, four more for tea, please.  Mulder, it's so
good to see you!"  The old Mage hugged his favorite protege, tears
dancing in his eyes.  "And Warrior Healer Scully!  This is wonderful!"

    He ushered them inside.  At the huge open fireplace to their
right, a female elf garbed in the dress of a Mage Apprentice made
tea.  In the warmth of the room, surrounded by their friends, the
bondmates suddenly had a feeling of well-being that seemed to belong
only there in the Realm.  They sank into deeply cushioned armchairs
by the hearth.  Jourdain took a straightbacked wooden chair, and
Aldara sat on the floor, curled up by his knee.  

    Scully sighed happily and accepted a mug of fragrant tea
handed to her respectfully by the elven apprentice.  She sipped at
it gratefully, noting it was the invigorating variety of the brew, the
one Mulder always likened to Jolt Cola. Although in their own world it
would have been only evening, the cold of the outside, the warmth
of the room and the trip through the vortex were creeping up on her,
making her sleepy.  And there was much too much news to catch
up on to miss a thing.   A hot welcomed rush suffused through her
body.  She lightly entered Mulder's mind to find similar thoughts
- that, and his fever to learn more about Shannon's welfare.

    "I must apologize," Reinald said, seating himself.  "I have
been remiss.  Come, Lishla....  Lishla is my newest apprentice.  She
came to me a season ago from Fairwoods Glen, highly recommended by
Prince Mavor himself.  Lishla, this is Mage Mulder and his Companion,
Warrior Healer Scully."

    Mulder took advantage of the elf's speechlessness to study
her.  Rusty as his skills might be, there was no mistaking the
powerful sky-blue aura that shimmered outward from her slight form.  
Her pointed ears peeked out from masses of black ringlets, her
homely face open and oddly attractive.  Wide brown eyes looked at
him in awe.

    "Then it's true," she breathed.  "His Highness told me
extraordinary things, so extraordinary I could scarcely believe them.  
But it's true, I can see it in your auras!"  She bowed low before the
bondmates.

    "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mage Apprentice Lishla,"  
Mulder replied formally.  "If Prince Mavor recommended you, then I'm
sure you'll make a wonderful Mage.  Reinald will teach you so much,
as he-"

    "And I've worked Lishla very hard today," the old Mage
interrupted.  "You have my leave to retire for the night, Mage
Apprentice.  Commit the spell we worked on today to memory and we
will try it again tomorrow."

    "Yes, Royal Mage.  Good night."  With a glance back at the
travelers, she slipped out and closed the door softly behind her.

    "Here, you must be hungry after your journey."  Reinald
passed a tray of dark sweet breads and cakes around to his guests.  
"I'll stall you no more, Mulder.  I appreciate your discretion while
Lishla was here.  I do trust her implicitly, but I have not yet gotten
around to explaining your origins, nor those of Queen Shannon.
There are still quite few privy to that knowledge.  I'm afraid that
she would find it... confusing, in this stage of her training.  I
don't want to distract her. She shows great promise."  The Mage
took a final sip of his tea and then set his cup down deliberately.
"And I - I apologize to you, dear boy, for the deception earlier today.  
Although it appears that I did not deceive you after all...."  He
watched Mulder's features for signs of confirmation, which were not
long in coming.

    "He reads faces as well as he does auras, Reinald,"
grumbled Jourdain. "I told you I would not be able to keep up your
deception, not from such a powerful Mage."

    "A hunger-maddened troll could have read your face,
Jourdain,"  Mulder teased. Then he grew serious.  "So what's the
story, Reinald - the whole story."

    "Shannon is doing well, and Kyla is pleased. But there were
some problems early on, and Kyla is concerned for when the child
begins to make its journey.  It was as much to have Scully here as
you that I notified you."

    "Can I see her?" asked Mulder eagerly.

    "It might be better if you waited until morning," Reinald said,
not unkindly.  "They have long since retired, and Kyla wants Shannon
to get as much sleep as she can.  She feels the child will make its
appearance very soon."  He smiled wryly.  "Actually, I expected
Andalor to be here tonight.  I know he wanted to be.  But he is more
exhausted than Shannon.  He spends much of the night watching over
her and pacing.  And running for Kyla if she as much as turns over in
her sleep.  Indeed, Shannon bears up much better than does the King.  
And Kyla is so tired from being summoned by Andalor at all hours,
she finally lost her temper and snapped at him to go away and do
something useful.  I think it struck him speechless!"  Everyone
chuckled, although Mulder's was half-hearted.

    "He must love her very much,"  Scully commented softly.

    Aldara nodded.  "Completely besotted.  I don't think they
could be any closer if they were lifebonded."

    The Royal Mage looked over at his brooding, worried protege.
"Morning is not so many candlemarks away, Mulder," Reinald said
gently.  "She is in no danger.  If you were to see her now, in her
excitement she would get no more sleep for the remainder of the
night. She has missed you very much, you know.  Not a day goes
by that she does not speak of you."

    Scully merged easily into Mulder's thoughts, feeling the sting
of disappointment at not being able to see Shannon immediately, as well
as his surprised happiness that the girl had not, as he had feared,
forgotten all about him. She flashed the older Mage a look of gratitude
which he acknowledged with twinkling eyes and a nod of his head.

    "Now, what other news shall we bring you up to date on
before you retire?"

    "I want to know all about Daanna," Scully demanded.

    "She's eight season-cycles old now, if you can believe it,"
announced Aldara, smiling. "Although she continues to seem ten
times that, sometimes.  She spends part of every day with Reinald
or Hannu, learning to accept and control her gifts, although I'm not
really sure they know what to make of her."  She looked over at the
Royal Mage.

    "Indeed we don't.  A bright orange aura - unheard of in our
time.  We are hoping the gargoyle scholars and archivists can come
up with some answers.  But if even Hannu can't think of anything...."

    "But at least she doesn't have so many of the foretelling
dreams anymore," Jourdain added.  Her nightmares during the Dark
Queen's attempt to conquer the Realm by carnage and hatred had
terrified both the child and her parents.  Without Daanna's dreams,
however, and the insights they had provided, the Dark Queen might
well have succeeded.  "And when she does have a foretelling dream,
often it about something trivial, even child-like."

    "That's a reassuring change, anyway,"  Scully replied  "I can
hardly wait to see her."

    "And the renovations to our cottage,"  Jourdain said proudly.  
"We had hardly started when you left."

    "We were disappointed not to be able to get back for Shannon
and Andalor's wedding.  Unfortunately your summons could not have
come at a worse time," said Mulder.  "We were in the middle of a
briefing in a roomful of people, just before setting out on a manhunt
for a serial killer."

    "It was Mulder's profile that finally got everyone looking in
the right direction," his bondmate explained. "The man he suspected
was prominent in the area and the local law enforcement couldn't
believe he could be responsible.  If Mulder hadn't been there, more
little boys might have been taken and killed."  Mulder hadn't been
'disappointed' at not being able to attend the wedding, Scully
reflected - he had been crushed not to see Shannon marry her king.  
But there had been no question, in either of their minds, about their
decision not to go to the Realm.  Not when lives were at stake.

    "Adding insult to injury, I think I had blisters on my chest
for two weeks," Mulder grumbled.  "Reinald, you really have to do
something about the heat conduction from the Oracle Cloud.  I was
just sitting there in that briefing, squirming in my seat, trying to
figure out how I would explain it if the front of my shirt burst into
flames."

    Reinald chuckled.  "I'll have to enlist the Professor's
assistance.  We can't have you catching fire.  But I am glad you
could be here for the Royal Birth.  As I said, it is generally
believed that you are, in fact, Shannon's taabsut.  It raised
questions when you were not here for the wedding.  I don't think
I have to tell you the source of the questions," he said shrewdly.

    "The Noble Houses, no doubt."

    The Mage nodded.  "You were here for the betrothal, which
was a more important ceremony than the wedding, at least from the
point of view of the taabsut.  But your role in the Birth Ritual is
quite pivotal.  It would have provoked rumors had you not been able
to take part.  I don't think the excuse that you were in distant
lands on the work of the King would have passed muster a second
time."

    "Uh... exactly how pivotal is this role?" Mulder asked
uncomfortably.

    The Mages' eyes twinkled.  "Rest easy, dear boy.  The
Minister of Protocol and I will brief you tomorrow.  That, by the
way, will take some delicate handling.  Ballorca is also unaware
of your origins and those of the Queen. Goddess, he would faint
dead away if he knew.  Unthinkable!"  He chuckled heartily and the
others joined in.  Ballorca was comic in his fussiness.  But he also
took his position extremely seriously, as well he might in a land so
bound to tradition and ritual as the Realm was.

    "Well, I suspect you must want to get settled for what remains
of the night.  You remember the way?"

    "We have our old room back?"  Scully exclaimed, with a flush
of pleasure.

    The Mage shrugged.  "It is your chamber.  When you're not
here, it stands empty, awaiting your return."  He rose as they did
and trailed them to the door.  "Besides, Lita would never speak to
me again if I dared put anyone else in there.  A formidable being,
Lita.  I would not cross her for the world."

    The friends bade each other good night and went their
respective ways. Arms wrapped at the waist, the bondmates strolled
along the chilly stone passageways, their footfalls the only sounds.
At length, they stopped in front of an intricately carved door.

    "This is new," Scully murmured. "Wait, Mulder - look! It's us!"

    He peered at the carvings and saw she was right.  The door
was a history of their life in the Realm - from their fight with the
soul eaters within hours of their arrival, to their adventures while
on the search for Hannu, to the climactic battle with the Dark
Queen.  Mulder's fingers brushed the carved oaken surface.  "It's
beautiful work.  Well, I wonder what other changes there are," he
mused. Scully felt his misgivings,and sympathized.  Their chamber
in the Realm had been the scene of so much it had become almost
a symbol - of their relationship, their friendships there, and their
unique powers. Neither was looking forward to changes in something
so fundamental to their existence there.  He pushed the door open.

    It was the same.

    Everything was the same, as if they had never been gone.  
The welcoming fire, the loaf and teapot standing on the low table
between the armchairs at the hearth, the tall windows set deep into
the walls, standing like sentinels guarding their quarters until their
return.  And the high Realm bed, draped with filmy white curtains.

    "Now, we're home."

End of Chapter Three    
 

Chapter Four


    They awoke early as they had that first morning - in each other's
arms and aware of the presence of another being nearby.  Scully gave
her sleeping bondmate a good morning kiss.  //Rise and shine, Mulder.\\

    //Mmph....\\  There was the clatter of crockery and suddenly his
eyes flew open.  //Lita?\\

    //That would be my guess.\\  She searched under the bedclothes for
her nightshirt, discarded carelessly some time in the night.

    //I'll give you a week to stop groping around down there....\\  
Mulder's hand absently caressed the skin of her back.

    //Probably not a good idea, if you intend to see Shannon today.\\  
Her hand met something silky and she sat up to pull the pale green
sheath over her head.  She left her bondmate struggling to find his
shorts, swept back the curtains and slipped out of bed.

    The elf was laying the table for breakfast, unloading the huge tray
she had brought up from the kitchens.  The sound of bare feet slapping
on the stone floor brought her head up from her task, and her face
glowed.  "Warrior Healer Scully!  You're back!  She made her little
bob of respect, then grasped Scully around the waist.  "It's been
too long.  And I have so much to tell you!"

    Dana hugged her.  "You don't look a day older, Lita."

    "Oh, get away with you!  Why, my oldest is married now and
expecting a child of her own."

    "What, no hug for me?"  Mulder asked, approaching them clad
only in his shorts.  It didn't matter - Lita had seen far more of him
back in the days when one of her duties had been to assist him to
bathe every morning.

    The elf made a beeline for him and embraced him.  Suddenly
she broke away.  "Ach, you'll catch your deaths!"  She bustled to
the armoire and pulled out a pair of soft, heavy robes.  "Here, put
these on before you freeze.  It will warm up later, but for now it is
quite cold.  Now, sit down and have some breakfast - I ordered all
your favorites - and while I straighten up in here, I'll let you know
what's been going on in your absence."

    The bondmates exchanged looks of amused expectation.  
Lita's revelations of the events of the Realm were always informative,
entertaining, and often bordering on the obscene.  Sitting down at
the refectory table, they discovered their appetites for the unique
cuisine of the Realm and began passing platters and bowls while Lita
dished the dirt.  Their meal was punctuated by laughter, and choking
over some of the more scandalous of her announcements.

    "Jourdain told me that Lord Mandor is well again."  Mulder
commented.

    "Oh yes, he's doing quite well.  He tires after walking long
distances and he'll always have that limp.  But it is a miracle he
survived to walk at all.  He spent a whole season-cycle at his estates
with two Healers in attendance, just getting well.  Of course, I
believe that their success was due in no small part to the fact that
his soul eater of a wife dropped dead a mere two seasons after he
got back there," Lita replied with obvious satisfaction.

    "Lady Norilka died?" exclaimed Scully.  Norilka was a spoiled
snob who made her husband and daughter's lives no less hellish than
those of her servants.  "It must have been very sudden."

    "Oh, it was.  Now, you know I'm not one to gossip,of course,
and I'd never tell anyone but you two....  But what I heard is that
the poisonous witch flew into a rage with her servants over some
triviality, and dropped dead on the spot!  A cousin of mine, Gorfel,
works in the stables there, and what Gorfel said was, although
officially the estate was in mourning, it was the merriest mourning
the Realm has yet seen."

    Mulder disguised a laugh by coughing.  He had loathed the
woman, personally, finding her a power-hungry scold and a species
bigot, like so many of the old families of the Noble Houses.  "But
surely, Mandor and Livirnea -"

    "..were no less relieved than the servants,"  Lita finished flatly,
a knowing twinkle in her eye.

    "I'll take your word for it, then. What's happened to Pitir?  
I see Reinald has a new apprentice."

    "Lishla, yes...  lovely child.  About time we had an elf, and a
female one at that, for training under the Royal Mage.  Wonderful
aura, simply wonderful.  Pitir is a fully-fledged Mage now,
travelling with the troll caravans for a bit of 'seasoning' as Reinald
says."

    "And Shannon?"  Mulder asked innocently.

    Lita wagged a tiny finger at him.  "Oh, no you don't, Mage
Mulder!  You'll not get anything from me!  And don't look at me with
those wide eyes. I'm on to you!  Their Majesties await you in two
candlemarks.  They rose rather late, and Kyla must look in on Queen
Shannon before you take up the rest of her day."  She relented,
smiling.  "But she looks forward to seeing you.  She has missed
you very much."

    Jumping down from her perch, she continued, "Well, I have
other tasks.  Your bath water awaits you, Mage Mulder.  See that you
don't spill as much as you usually do."  She looked knowingly at the
bondmates and Scully blushed.  "And when you see Queen Shannon,
for Goddess' sake don't tell her she's as big as the Great Hall. She's
very sensitive about that."

    "I wouldn't dream of it."

    "I know - and don't worry.  Things will go fine."

    "Thank you, Lita," Scully said.  "Oh, by the way, who did the
beautiful carvings on our door?"

    "Ah, that.  Well, Jhorgab - you know how chatty he is - he
related all the adventures you had on your journey to find Hannu. We
took Jhorgab's stories and put them together with your other
adventures.  Another cousin of mine is a master carver, and he plied
his trade upon your door using the stories for inspiration."

    "Well, thank you for that, and for keeping our chamber for us."

    "What kind of a servant would I be if I let just anyone in
here, I'd like to know?  Really, one must have standards...."  Her
voice went on after she closed the door behind her.

    Scully scooped the last of the sweet yogurt-like substance
out of her bowl and set her spoon down.  "So, what do you want to
do to kill a couple of hours?"

    His eyes gleamed.


                ~ ~ ~


    Scully fastened the lightweight wool cloak at her throat.  She
was back in her 'Realm clothes' - warrior-green cloak edged in the
Healer's brown, flowing white shirt, tan breeches and high leather
boots.  "Ready?"

    "I've been ready since last night."  Mulder adjusted his
longer, Mage-blue cloak  He looked over guiltily at the huge puddle
surrounding the copper bath.  "Do you think we ought to try wiping
some of that up?"

    "Somehow, I think Lita would believe something were
seriously amiss if she didn't find that puddle, Mulder. No, I think
she'll forgive us this time.  Besides, your halla awaits."

    She caught the mixture of pleaure, expectation and anxiety as
thoughts and emotions tumbled through his mind.  Weaving her fingers
through his, she sent a wave of reassurance that was almost second
nature to her now.  "Let's go see Shannon and Andalor."

                ~ ~ ~
                

    They tapped lightly at the door of the Royal Suite and were
admitted immediately by Dorbo.  Andalor, pacing by the fire, glanced
up as they entered and a huge smile lit his face.

    "Mulder!  Damn, but I'm glad to see you," exclaimed the King,
shaking hands with the Mage.  "And Scully, thank the Goddess!  Kyla is
in with Shannon, but should be leaving soon.  Dorbo?"

    "Tea's coming, Sire."

    "And how is your world, Mulder?"  He indicated for them to take
seats.

    "Pretty much as you left it, Your Majesty - "

    "Um... if you wouldn't mind...."

    Mulder chuckled.  "All right - Andalor." As her bondmate went
on to discuss some of the newest wonders of their world, Scully had
a chance to study the fascinated King.  He had grown, nearly as tall
as Mulder now.  There was no trace of the boy any longer in the lean
planes of his face, and he had filled out the promise of his broad
shoulders.  His hair was somewhat darker, and stubble graced his chin
and cheeks.  Only his eyes remained unchanged, the deep purple of
the irises just as startling as they had always been.

    "...but really, there hasn't been much change, Andalor. Time
passes more swiftly in the Realm. You may have changed and
Fairwoods certainly has done a lot of rebuilding since we were last
here.  But in my world, relatively little time has passed since you
left."

    Both men started as Kyla came through the door from the
bedchamber, and Andalor jumped to his feet.

    "Healer Kyla, how -"

    "King Andalor, you wife is doing splendidly," Kyla announced
calmly.  "It won't be long now, another day or two at most, I would
say."  She glanced over at the bondmates and smiled.  "Healer
Scully, I'm glad you're here.  I've just finished a healing treatment
with Her Majesty.  I think she'd like to see you and Mage Mulder
if -"  she stepped back quickly as Andalor and Mulder raced for the
door into the bedchamber.  Kyla shook her head resignedly and led
Scully in at a more decorous pace.

    Andalor stood at his wife's bedside, tenderly stroking her
hair and crooning soothingly to her in a low voice meant for her
ears alone.  Her eyes were locked on his, and it wasn't until Mulder
cleared his throat loudly that she glanced up.

    "Oh, Mulder!"  She held out her arms as Andalor stepped back
and allowed the Mage to fill them.

    "Shannon, you look beautiful,"  he murmured, his throat tight.  
"I've missed you so much."  His halla said nothing, merely tightened
her arms around his neck.  Suddenly he felt moisture seeping through
the front of his fine linen shirt.

    "Shannon, are you all right, baby?"

    Sniffing, she finally released her hold on him and nodded.  
"I'm fine.  It's just the damned hormones or something, I guess. Did
you really miss me? I thought that maybe you forgot all about me."

    "Are you kidding?  Every day I wondered what kind of trouble
you were getting up to.  Let me take a look at you.  God, you've
grown up!"

    "And out," she said ruefully, indicating her belly.  "This is
so weird, Mulder.  I think I'm going to explode or something."

    "Don't tell Ballorca - it's probaby against protocol."  Mulder
stood looking at her, his eyes shining and a silly grin touching his
lips.

    "I'll leave you now," said Kyla.  "Healer Scully, if you would
like to stop by my cottage later, I can refresh your knowledge of
Realm medicine."

    "Thanks, Kyla. I'd like that."

    The Healer left as Dorbo entered.  "Will you have tea here
or in the receiving room?"

    "Here."

    "The receiving room, please, Dorbo.  Come on, Andy!  I need
to move, and I'm allowed out of bed two candlemarks a day and I
haven't been up yet today."

    Mulder looked at Scully, frowning as Andalor helped his wife
to stand.  He draped her shoulders with a robe and led the way to
the next room.

    //Scully, surely that's not normal, to have to spend that much
time in bed.\\

    //We don't know what's normal for here, Mulder.  For all I
know, all Realm females spend their entire pregnancies in bed.\\

    He stopped sort of the doorway. //For all you know?\\

    Scully grimaced uncomfortably.  //Well, think about it.  
Whenever we've been here before, I've had to concentrate on healing
terrible injuries - the War with the Dark Creatures, the ambush on
the troll caravan, the aftermath of the Dark Queen's attack.  I
haven't had much of an opportunity to study Realm obstetrical
practices.\\

    She felt his fear, and his attempt to control it, to shield it
from her.  //Hell of a time to announce you 'don' know nothin'
'bout birthin' babies', Scully\\ he mindspoke lightly, but she
could sense the disquiet underlying the bantering words.

    //Well, I did go to med school, you know.  And I completed
an OB rotation.  And Kyla will fill me in on how things are done here.  
So I'm not precisely working from a position of total ignorance.  
Don't worry, love.\\  Her confidence leached into his mind and he
grasped it, taking comfort.  //Now come on, let's find out what the
story is.\\

    They sat near the fire and accepted a cup of tea from Dorbo.  
Mulder looked across at Shannon and his breath caught in his throat.  
She was lovely - tall, strong, her back straight, raven hair in a
single thick braid over one shoulder, her remarkable amber eyes
shining.

    Shannon glanced up to find herself being watched by three
pairs of eyes.  "What?"

    "I just can't get over how beautiful you look," admitted Mulder.  
"But I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't worried about you."

    "Jeez, Mulder, this is a natural process.  Women have been
having babies for zillions of years."

    "That's what I keep trying to tell him," laughed Scully.

    "If Andalor wasn't King, I think Kyla would have quit by now,"  
the girl grumbled.
    
    "Shannon - you're special. Our child will be special.  And you
know yourself there have been problems," her husband countered.

    "That's what we've been hearing, Andalor.  What kind of
problems?" Mulder asked softly.

    The King sighed.  "This isn't Shannon's first pregnancy, Mulder.
Naturally, you know the expectation of the Realm - for the Queen and
King to provide heirs to the throne, and that expectation mounts as
soon as the wedding procession ends....  We lost one, not too long
after the wedding, even before we were sure....  Then, almost a
season-cycle later, we lost another."  He reached over and took
Shannon's hand.  "We hadn't yet made an announcement.  After the
first, we wanted to be very sure before announcing the news to the
Realm.  But you know what it's like to try to keep a secret around
here, it's nearly impossible.  So rumors were flying around that the
Realm was to have an heir.  It wasn't two weeks later that we lost
the second."

    "Oh Shannon, Andalor.  I'm so sorry," Scully said, shaken.  
For all their youth, the royal couple had had so much tragedy to
deal with. Andalor had lost both his parents while still a small child,
and it was the loss of her mother that had brought a grieving, guilt-
stricken Shannon to the Realm.  And now two miscarriages.

    Andalor shrugged.  "It happens, even here.  But Kyla couldn't
tell us why it had happened, which is unusual.  And then other rumors
started, vicious ones - all of them basically to the effect that
Shannon would never be able to give the Realm an heir, because she
was a witch, because she was an outworlder, because she was cursed,
because I was cursed - take your pick," he finished disgustedly.  
Shannon's hand had tightened on his, her knuckles white.

    "The Noble Houses?" asked Mulder. His tone was deceptively
soft, his face bland.  Scully alone could detect his burning anger,
hitting her in waves, as she put up a light shield to deflect them.

    Andalor shrugged.  "It would appear so.  These rumors were
treasonous, so understandably their origins were difficult to trace. I
suppose some might have been mere idle, malicious gossip. Or
perhaps just wishful thinking on the part of the Noble Houses."

    "Wishful thinking?"  Mulder's eyes narrowed.  "How so?"

    "The laws of the Realm state that if there is no heir, the
Throne will revert to the Noble Houses," Shannon explained quietly.
Sadly, she smiled.  "You can see I've been doing my homework.
Such a situation has never occurred.  Realm families tend to be
large, and the Royal Family is usually no exception.  But Andy has
no living relatives... he had no brothers and sisters, we assume
his Uncle Drellor is dead, and he left no heirs.  If Andy and I have
no children.... "   Her eyes filled with tears.

    Andalor's head bent close to hers.  "Ssh, pet.  We will have
children.  In just a few days we will have a beautiful, strong child,
and Goddess willing, there will be brothers and sisters."

    Shannon gave him a watery smile.  "Let's get through this
one before we talk about more."  She turned to Mulder and Scully.  
"There were some problems early on - with spotting and so on,"
she said, a little uncomfortably. "We were afraid I was going to
lose this one too - that's why Kyla's been so cautious. I mean,
this is nothing. At one point all my food was prepared under her
supervision and I was watched constantly. As time went on, things
started looking more hopeful.  Now I think she's a little nervous,
because I *am* an outworlder.  I mean, everything else seems to
work pretty much as it does in the old world," she said, blushing
prettily, "but this is kind of a new experience for everyone, and we
don't really know what to expect."

    "Everything will be fine," said Scully warmly.  "You've made
it past the tricky time.  Now any time Junior is ready...."

    "Well, that's what I keep telling Andy and Kyla," Shannon
replied, more cheerfully.

    Scully smiled.  "Have you got names picked out?"

    Shannon's eyes sparkled.  "Oh, yes - moon cycles ago. Sorry,
Taabsut," she said, turning to Mulder.  "I know you're going to ask,
but I can't tell you.  No one can know until the Naming Day Ceremony,
two days after the baby is born.  Tradition, you know."  Suddenly
she yawned enormously.

    "Back to bed, Shannon," Andalor said firmly.  He looked
apologetically at the bondmates.

    Mulder shook his head.  "No, it's all right.  I have to meet
with Reinald and Ballorca anyway.  They're going to brief me on
how much trouble you've gotten me into this time, Halla Shannon,"
he said, reverting to the teasing relationship they had shared
during Shannon's early days in the Realm.  He stood and grasped
Scully's hand as they prepared to leave.

    The Queen grinned impudently up at him.  "You're a hero of
the Realm, Mage Mulder - three times over.  I'm sure you'll be equal
to whatever task awaits you in a Birthing Ritual."

    "You wouldn't know by any chance what that task might be,
do you?"

    "Sorry," she grinned, shaking her head.  "At this point, all
I'm concerned with is my part - that's going to be tough enough,
thanks." Then she sobered.  "Mulder, I can't tell you how much it
means to me to have you here.  Not so much because of the
traditions and all, but... it just makes me feel so much better,
so much stronger."

    He bent to kiss her forehead.  "I wouldn't have missed it for
the world - your world or mine."


                ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


    The bondmates went their separate ways, each to prepare
in their own way for the upcoming birth.  Scully went to Kyla's
cottage for a crash course in Realm obstetrics, while Mulder found
himself knocking at Reinald's door.

    "Ah, Mage Mulder - you are expected.  Please come in."

    "Thank you, Mage Apprentice Lishla."  He joined Reinald at
the hearth as the elven apprentice started on the ubiquitous tea.  
Moments later, Ballorca was admitted to the chamber, carrying a
large, oft-fingered tome.  

    "Mage Mulder, I'm relieved to see you here."  Implicit in his
tone was his disapproval of Mulder's absence for the wedding.  He
bustled his way over to them and selected the most comfortable
armchair.  Perhaps intimidated by the Minister of Protocol's strict
observance of custom, no one spoke until tea had been served.
Then,

    "Minister Ballorca, I am afraid I am not as familiar as
perhaps I should be with my part in the Ritual of Royal Birth," Mulder
began.  "I -

    "Actually, I was not expecting you to be familiar with it
because almost no one alive today is."  Mulder exchanged a relieved
glance with Reinald.  At least his lack of knowledge of the ritual
would not point to his rather unique origins.  "You see, by several
quirks of fate, Andalor had no taabsut.  Normally, Andalor's uncle
would have fulfilled that role, but King Barnas always distrusted
Drellor - with good reason, as things turned out.  The next person in
line to be Andalor's taabsut, Queen Mira's brother, died suddenly in
a hunting accident quite shortly before Andalor's birth.  Andalor's
arrival was unexpectedly early, before an alternate choice of taabsut
could be made. It is a weighty decision, and time did not permit.  In
such an instance it is permissible to forego that part of the Ritual.  
Permissible, but not advised," Ballorca sniffed.  "I myself urged
King Barnas to make a selection, but his concern for Queen Mira
took precedence."  His tone made it clear that he found Barnas'
priorities misplaced.  "In view of his tragically short reign, and the
troubles that have beset us since that time, it is my belief that it
is high time to get back to strict observance of the traditions and
customs of the Realm. It reassures the subjects."

    "Of course.  Well, what can you tell me about the duties
I am to perform?"

    Officiously, Ballorca opened his book and withdrew some
sheets of parchment.  "In essence it is an embellishment of the
ceremony you took part in to become Shannon's taabsut when she
was born, which of course you are familiar with...."

    Uh-oh.  Mulder looked over at Reinald.

    "... quite an embellishment, actually, rendering certain parts
of the ceremony almost unrecognizable."

    Mulder began to breathe again.

    "You can read Old Realm, of course? Yes, what am I saying,
you're a Mage. Very well.  I will explain the Ritual of Royal Birth
step by step, emphasizing your role.  I have taken the liberty also
of writing it down for you so that you may study it.  I would strongly
advise you do this as soon as possible.  You must be ready when
the time comes.  I have given your servant my orders regarding the
ceremonial robes.  Because you are a Mage, the robes will have to
be altered somewhat.  Most unusual to have a Mage as Royal
Taabsut.  Unprecedented, in fact."  The Protocol Minister looked
up, his brows bristling, obviously unhappy with this further breech
in tradition.  He thrust the parchment into Mulder's hands.

    Mulder glanced through the sheets, almost black with writing.
"I am Shannon's taabsut," Mulder said, puzzled. "But I'm unclear as
to my relationship to her child.  I wouldn't have thought I had any
connection."

    Ballorca sighed with exaggerated patience.  "You have a very
great connection.  In this instance, where neither King Andalor nor
Queen Shannon has a brother - also highly unusual," he said,
shaking his head - "then the Queen's taabsut becomes taabsut
to all of her children by default.  This of course did not happen at
Andalor's birth for reasons which I have already explained.  Goddess
willing, Shannon will provide the Realm with many children, so we
don't run into this problem again.  Now, take the parchment as I
have written it out for you.  Lishla, bring Mage Mulder a pen and
ink, so that he may make notes as needed.  Please attend carefully."
With that, Ballorca launched into an explanation of the Ritual of
Royal Birth in minute detail.

    It was a full two candlemarks later that the Minister of
Protocol finally bustled off to begin the preliminary preparations for
the Naming Day Ceremony.  By that time, a pale and shaky Mulder
sat with his head in his hands.  Chuckling, Reinald pushed a mug
of tea at him.

    "Next time I come up with a plan to impersonate someone's
taabsut, for Goddess's sake don't let me do it!  Thanks, Reinald,"  
Mulder said mournfully, accepting the mug.

    "Don't worry, my boy," the Mage said.  "With your memory,
learning the required speeches and the ritual should be no problem."

    "It's not the speeches I'm worried about, Reinald.  I'm going to
be there the whole time!  Essentially, I have to deliver the kid, and
cut the cord, and all the while, spouting some nonsense in Old Realm.  
Jesus!"  He collapsed back into the cushions of his chair.  "I should
have refused to let her marry Andalor when I had the chance."

    Reinald laughed at that.  "As if you could refuse that child
anything it was in your power to give her. You'll be fine, Mulder.
You won't be alone, after all.  Kyla and Scully will be there, and
also Lita, to read the child's aura."

    "What about you?"

    "Oh, no, it's not permitted.  Andalor isn't supposed to be there
either, although I think that Ballorca will have to lock him in the
dungeon to keep him out."

    Mulder took a deep swallow of the tea, grateful for the much-
needed lift it gave him.  There was a knock, and Lishla went to the
door.

    "Ah, Gunther!  Come and cheer Mulder up.  He's feeling rather
intimidated at the moment."

    Mulder rose and shook the Professor's hand. "Gunther, it's
wonderful to see you again.  You look great."

    "Thank you, dear boy. You look- well, you look worried,
actually."

    "I'm much better at the easy tasks - defeating Dark Creatures,
finding long-missing Mages, banishing omnipotent black magicians.  
This time I think I've met my match."  He smiled wanly.

    "You'll do well - you always do.  This will be no different."  
He accepted a mug of tea from Lishla.  "Actually, I'm glad you're
here. I wanted to discuss your journey through the vortex with you."

    Mulder shrugged.  "It seemed to go fine.  What's the problem?"

    "You know that backwash I spoke of?  Well, you came in quite
close to it.  We were expecting you a full candlemark before you in
fact arrived, and you were supposed to enter into the courtyard. So
both time and place were off slightly.  Not significantly, but enough
to worry a scientist.  Did you or Scully have any untoward effects?"
        
    "Just the usual travel sickness - you know, dizziness,
nausea, headache, a generally wiped out feeling. And a comparatively
rough landing.  Nothing really too much out of the ordinary."  As if
interdimensional travel could ever be described as ordinary.

    "Ah, well - that's good." But Professor Neumann's brows were
knit in a frown, and he was silent.

    "Gunther?  Is there anything else?"

    "Well... I hope not....  You remember I told you about a
few problems we were having with the vortex, that business of
'flares' I mentioned."

    "I'm not sure I understood what you were getting at, but
yes, I remember your mentioning it to us."

    "A flare is what Hannu and I have termed it. It's a slight...
backfire, if you will....  No, no - 'power surge' would be a more
accurate analogy. You see, we've managed some quite revolutionary
changes in vortex creation, making it more compact, more focused
and at the same time more energy-efficient.  But we noticed that
some attendant problems have occurred that we are at a loss to
explain or control.  The most significant of these is the flare
phenomenon.  Simply put, either the original vortex reopens for a
few moments at some time after closing, or another, smaller vortex
may appear.  We're not sure about that yet.  Where did you say we
created the vortex that brought you here?"

    "In our office in the basement of the J. Edgar Hoover
Building.  FBI Headquarters.  And next time you might let me
know to put away all the papers laying around.  The vortex may be
more focused, but Scully and I are still going back to a hell of a
refiling job,"  Mulder grinned.

    Neumann smiled tightly. "I can imagine, sorry, yes. Well,
the filing is the least of my concerns, at the moment.  It appears
that there is an excellent probability that there was a flare some
time after you left - probably fifteen or twenty of your minutes
later.  Naturally, I am concerned about it.  The backwash would
have been in full effect by then.  If anyone were inadvertantly
caught in the vortex flare....  I mean, it's bad enough to bring
someone unawares into the Realm. But I have no idea where or
when in the Realm that person might have ended up."

    "Rest easy, Gunther," Mulder said confidently. "Scully and
I are the FBI's Most Unwanted.  Nobody ever goes into our office but
the two of us.  There's really no chance at all that the flare could
have whisked anyone to the Realm."


End of Chapter Four