Tangible Schizophrenia



Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: See individual drabbles.
Pairing: See individual drabbles.
Feedback: What was good, what was bad, what was just ugly, etc.
Disclaimer: Versions didn’t originate with me.
Notes: Crossovers with Norse mythology. Title is can be roughly translated as ‘fate.’
Summary: Maybe the Saxons brought along something besides an army.


Foretelling: PG, Lancelot and Skuld, for cain1999

From the wall, Lancelot can see nothing but Saxon fires. The red pinpricks are knots in a great net that is readying to cast itself about these failing stones and their guardians. He can picture too well the women screaming and the men falling—has not the same happened to his land?

But then there is Arthur, who should be standing beside Lancelot and whose absence is a raw, maggot-infested wound. Who would stay and let that net draw fast around him, lash its flames into his already-scarred flesh, fight till his fingers are charred away and—

--the bile is too thick in Lancelot’s throat. He turns away only to glimpse a veiled lady staring up at him. When he mutters Guinevere’s name, she merely shakes her head and raises a bloody broken arrow. Then she is gone.

* * *

Father of Lies: G, Lancelot and Loki, for judas_river

Ever since the Saxons arrived, a little voice has been coiling in Lancelot’s ear. It’s raspy, low, like the crackling of logs shifting in a fire.

home home not here she’s here arthur wants her not you she’s teasing shameless bitch leave them leave them to it you don’t deserve this deserve better

And whenever he hears it, his anger flames up beneath his skin and he has to clamp down on his breath, lest it come spilling out with malicious words that he doesn’t quite trust are his.

It’s that little niggling doubt that eats the most at him.