From: duchesslanorne@hotmail.com Date: Sun, 04 Oct 1998 17:24:36 GMT Subject: NEW: "The Lake" by Victoria Weaver (1/1) Title: The Lake Author: Victoria Weaver E-Mail Address: duchesslanorne@hotmail.com Rating: G Category: A, S Spoilers: None Keywords: None Summary: Mulder had gotten some pretty wild ideas stuck in his head in the past. What would happen if he started to believe in Aurtherian Legend? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Ow! It bit me!" "Of course. What did you expect a fairy to do?" "Well, nice things. Like granting wishes." "Huh. Shows what you know." -Labyrinth ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And the surface of the Lake was still. Not even the slight breeze, that mussed his hair and made him pull his jacket tighter around him, disturbed its serene and glassy ediface. Fox Mulder, though, was feeling neither calm or serene. He had come here for a purpose. He had come here for help. He just hoped he had come to the correct place. Was this the right Lake? Mulder didn't know, not for sure anyway. The time for these doubts was past, though. He had to trust himself, his instincts, and most of all he had to believe. It all came down to his belief. He hoped it was enough. He stood alone on the shore of the vast body of water. The clouds hung low, caressing the treetops like a lover, pregnant with rain that refused to fall. He knew that modern maps had a modern name for this Lake, but modern names had no real place here. This place was timeless. It was this timelessness that Mulder clung to as he spoke the words, trying them on for size. "I believe in you." he said, almost to himself. Glancing out onto the Lake for a hint, a clue. The wind continued to whip and blow around him. "I believe in you." he said, louder this time. His voice was fueled by a overpoweringly sudden wave of self assurance. This was the right Lake. A bystander, if there were any, would just barely be able to make out the words over the howl of the, now stronger, wind. "I believe in you and I need your help." Mulder called to the vastness of the Lake. The wind, gusting at him from several sources at once, picked up another notch. Emboldened by the winds silent encouragement, Mulder shouted, "Your real! You exist! I need your help! I believe in you!" Then, the wind stopped. The silence was deafening. The surface of the Lake, which had not stirred all this time, despite the raging wind, remianed impassive and smooth. Telling Mulder nothing. "I do, believe in you. You are The Lady of the Lake." He tried to shout it with the same wild abandon of earlier, but the sentiment fell flat on his lips. The words tumbled out in a defeated, dejected tone. Wounded and limping. A pale shadow of the confidence he had possesed before. Confident that he was right, after all. Confident that this was the fabeled Lake. Confident that the mythical Lady would dein to bestow her presence on a mere nobody like Fox Mulder. Confident that the Lady of the Lake, would somehow be able to help him. Give him wisdom, guidance....anything. Confidence that had died with the wind. Feeling a pang of sheepishness, and embaressment sweep over him, Mulder backed up a pace and stared at his shoes. How was he going to explain this to Scully when he got back to D.C.? It wasn't like he had given her any warning of his sudden leave of absence. But when did he ever give her warning? His behavior had been so erratic lately, so self-absorbed. Ever since the idea took root in his head that maybe the legends of King Aurthur weren't just legends. Maybe they were real. If put to question, Mulder could not think of when the idea had acutally occured to him. He couldn't pinpoint the exact time or day...or even week, when the thought of King Aurthur became, not a ridiculous and child-like fairy story, but a real, true human being. A possibility to be explored. An avenue to persure. A truth to be known. He became obsessed with knowing. The pull of this "research" had been stronger than anything else he had ever experienced. It wasn't as though he were merely obsessed with Aurthur, as he poured over texts and files and even the Tennyson poems. This had felt right. At first he researched on the side. After work, so as to not let his new obsession interfere with what he was paid to do. But the X-Files soon paled in comparison to the splendor of Aurthurs court, the mysticism of Avalon and the magick of The Lady of the Lake. He started bringing his "research" to the office and the new persuit soon took over most of his time there as well. He and Scully had not been out on a field assignment in weeks. Who could worry about aliens and government conspiracies when The Lady was calling to him? And indeed Mulder felt that she was. Calling. Beckoning. Across the distance and the mists. He entertained the notion that The Lady of the Lake might actually exist, and then it was all over. Mulder was lost. But now. Now. He had found, what he thought was, the Lake. He had called to The Lady. He got no response. He had been wrong. Embarassed and quietly damning himself, Mulder started to turn to leave. And nearly ran over the lady who had been quietly standing beside him the whole time. Startled, Mulder looked down into the ice blue eyes of his partner. "Come home, Mulder." Scully said simply, holding out her hand. Mulder tore his eyes away from the petit woman and took one last look at the perfect Lake. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could stay here. He wanted to. But there was Scully. Always Scully. Mulder came to a decision. He put his hand into Scully's and allowed her to lead him back to where their rental cars were parked. It was time to go home. It was time for a lot of things. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Over the Lake, the mists gathered slowly, almost painfully. It seemed to thicken and coalese into a vagely human, almost feminine, shape. She gazed across the vast gulf that seperated her mist shrouded world from the other, "real" world, and smiled as the Flame-haired Woman guided the Believer away from the Lakeshore. The Believer. The one whose faith in the impossible had given her strength and vitality for so long. The Lady was proud that she was able, to finally give something back to the Believer. The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This story comes out of my wonderment with Marion Zimmer Bradley's novel "The Mists of Avalon". Often have I considered trying to locate the "Lake" and the road that leads to Avalon, but time and money constraints keep me from such a foolish quest. So I figured I'd have Mulder do it for me. Feedback would be lovely! duchesslanorne@hotmail.com