Fic: Secret History (5/6) (Adult)

[briarwood]

TITLE: Secret History
SERIES: Secrets
RATING: Adult
FANDOM: Highlander
CATEGORY: Drama, Episode-based
PAIRING: Methos/Alexa, Methos/OFC, Methos/Kronos.
SUMMARY: Set between Something Wicked and Deliverance. After MacLeod’s dark quickening, Joe calls Methos for help. Methos remembers his darkest past.
WARNINGS: It says Methos/Kronos up there, right? That should be all the warning you need :-).
NOTES: This is not a WIP. I'm posting one part each day to give me time to get the last part proofed etc. If you prefer to read all the parts together, it'll be on my website this coming weekend. The Secrets series is a Methos/Joe romance, but each part except the last can be read as an independent story (at least, that's the plan). The M/J action in this one is all friendship; the bulk of this story is the flashback.

Links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.

The Mediterranean Sea

As the sun rose over the Mediterranean, Methos stood on the deck of the ship, gazing at what was left of Kalliste. The island was on the far horizon. The smoke and ash rose above the island in a great cloud that spread far over the sea. He could not see the island clearly but it looked as if most of the mountain was gone. Sunk beneath the sea. It had been a wild night on the sea; they were far enough from Kalliste to escape the worst of the storm but the volcano's explosion reached even here in the high waves, thunder and fire. And it wasn't over yet.

Surely even Kronos would be humbled by this.

Methos smiled to himself as Kronos emerged from below decks. Maybe not. He pushed his wet hair back from his face and fixed Bethia's mask in place. He drew the knife from his boot and crossed to his prisoner. Kronos watched him silently.

The priestess slumped against the mast. Her white hair was wet and clung to her skull and shoulders. Her flesh was pale and cold, the ceremonial gown no protection from the elements. She looked up at Methos' approach, her eyes on the knife in his hand. "What are you?" she asked. Her voice was weak.

"You know me, priestess," Methos told her. He watched the dawning recognition in her eyes. The day before she had not seen past his mask but they had known each other too long for disguise to work.

Recognition gave way to fear. "Methos? But…but…you…"

Methos laughed. "Forgive me, priestess. I don't think I've seen you speechless before."

"Why? You were our protector."

He seized her by her hair, turning her head and forcing her to look back in the direction of Kalliste. "Was I? Then this is fitting, isn't it? Look at your island, priestess. Look at it!"

Teryssa sobbed with pain as she obeyed him, her eyes taking in the wreckage of the island.

Methos did not ease his grip. "Your people, priestess, murdered my woman. Burned my home. Now tell me what protection I owed them."

Teryssa said nothing. Her eyes were closed, tears gathering beneath her lashes. Methos let go of her hair. He brushed a few strands of hair back from her face, a gentle touch. Her eyes opened and she looked at him hopefully.

Methos raised the mask he wore. "Led a sheltered life, haven't you?" He stroked her tangled hair down to her shoulder then ran his hand over her exposed breast. He smiled as she shrank away from his touch. He had no intention of taking her but it suited him to let her think otherwise. There was a certain thrill in touching her; she was a priestess. Forbidden fruit.

"There is nothing you can do to me, Methos."

"Oh, you are wrong. There is a great deal more I can do." He lifted the knife before her eyes. "You destroyed my life, priestess. How should I repay you for that?"

"I? I did nothing!"

He held the knife at her throat, leaning close enough to kiss her. "Exactly so. The one person on Kalliste who could have sent the mob home and you did nothing. We needed your protection that night!"

"I tried to warn you!"

"You didn't even summon me. I came to the temple on my own."

An edge of the old defiance crept back into Teryssa's voice. "Would you have me protect a murderer?" she demanded.

Methos drew back and struck her hard across her face. "Bethia was no murderer!"

"And you?" she whispered.

"Until yesterday, priestess, I hadn't killed in two hundred years, except in your wars. You didn't care who was guilty. You sacrificed me and mine to the mob…for what? You know you could have saved her, don't you? Don't you?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Now, I want you to understand what you've done." Methos pointed to what was left of Kalliste. "You know about my kind, Teryssa. So believe this: everyone on Kalliste is dead, because my Bethie was killed on holy ground. You started the destruction, priestess. Yesterday, I just finished the job."

Methos waited long enough to be sure she understood, then he walked away, leaving her there.

Kronos stopped him as he reached the cabin. "Is that true?"

"What?"

"That her death caused the eruption."

"Her quickening," Methos corrected. He debated for a moment. He wasn't certain the quickening had caused the volcano to wake. He knew he had touched something during the quickening and that something was enough to make him realise a major eruption was coming. But had the quickening caused it, or simply made him aware of it? Methos had no idea. Kronos didn't need to know that, he decided.

So he simply met Kronos' eyes calmly. "There's a reason we don't kill each other on holy ground, Kronos. Did you not know that?"

"I know the rules. No one I've ever met knew the reason."

"And how many of the immortals you've met lived beyond the meeting?" Methos asked.

"You did."

Yes, but we met on holy ground. Methos simply smiled, letting that be his reply.

"You have plans for her?" Kronos asked.

"You want her?"

Kronos shrugged. "A woman's a woman. But Silas' choice appeals to me more. He'll share. I just want to know how long you plan to leave her alive."

"I haven't decided yet." Methos moved past Kronos and headed below.

---

There was a woman crying somewhere on the deck. At first, Methos assumed it was Teryssa, but she was silent. He followed the sound. The only other woman on the ship was the one Silas took from Kalliste. In the darkness it took him some time to reach her but eventually he found the woman. She was crouching near the bow. As closely as Methos could tell in the dark, she was naked. She heard him coming and tried to hide herself from him. Then she looked up and as the moonlight struck them both he saw she recognised him.

Methos offered her his hand. "Are you hurt?" he asked her.

She took his hand nervously and he helped her to her feet. "Are you hurt?" he repeated - not gently.

"I…I…"

"Turn around," he ordered.

She obeyed, trying unsuccessfully to cover her nakedness with her hands. Methos saw minor cuts and bruises on her body, but no evidence of serious injury. "You seem unharmed," he said curtly.

"Help me," she whispered. Her eyes pleaded with him. It was pitiful. Methos wondered at himself. Only a few days before, he would have killed Silas for this. A few days before, he wouldn't have trusted Kronos at his side, either.

He looked down at the woman. "This isn't Kalliste. The only person who can help you is you. If you do as you're told, you won't be hurt…much. Get used to it, girl."

What did Silas plan for the woman? On one level the answer was obvious. If he wanted a slave he was welcome to her, but this one wasn't born to slavery. She was Keftian. If Silas wanted to keep her he would need to break her in more gently.

Methos grasped her arm and headed below decks, dragging her with him. He met Kronos on the way down. For a long moment the two men just looked at each other. Methos laid his free hand on his sword. He could not afford to let Kronos get the better of him again.

"I was looking for you," Kronos said.

"You've found me."

"We've been discussing where we should go. We can't just drift in the Mediterranean forever. Did your plan include a destination?"

"It's a bit late to be asking me, isn't it?" Methos shoved the woman ahead of him. "No, my plan ended with getting off Kalliste before the eruption." He found a blanket in the first hold and threw it to the woman. "Cover yourself," he ordered. "If Silas is done with you, find yourself a place to sleep in the hold. Don't let me find you on deck again."

The look she gave him was one of confusion, but she obeyed him, wrapping the blanket around herself. She clutched the blanket between her breasts. "Is there water?" she asked softly.

"Go and ask your master." He turned his back on her deliberately, picking up his conversation with Kronos. "This ship won't get us far. We need supplies and a new sail at the very least."

"Rhodos?" he suggested.

Methos shook his head. "Keftiu is closer."

"You want to dock at Keftiu? After what we just did. Are you crazy?"

"Knossos is the best place to get supplies and I don't think anyone will connect this ship with what happened on Kalliste. If anyone escaped, Kronos, their stories won't be very coherent." He shrugged. "I want to drop off our passenger at Keftiu, but if you have a better idea, I won't insist."

"The old woman. Why not just kill her?"

Methos smiled maliciously. "She wants death."

"But if we dock at Keftiu…"

"You're forgetting who I am, Kronos. There's very little risk. Kaspian and I are known and respected on Keftiu. We'll go ashore, trade for supplies and leave. Then we can go anywhere you like."

"And if there's trouble?" Kronos insisted.

"I'll deal with it," Methos answered shortly.

---

Knossos

Methos was haggling over the price of some travellers' loaves when he heard the scream behind him. He whirled around, his sword in his hand instantly. Near another trader's stall, two men fought, rolling in the dust. The scream had come from a woman behind the stall. One of the men fighting was Kaspian.

Methos abandoned his bargaining and leapt into the fray. Kaspian had a knife in his hand. Methos grabbed Kaspian's wrist and dragged him back. It wasn't easy: Kaspian was stronger than he. He tried to force the younger man to face him and Kaspian struck out. The knife sliced into Methos' thigh.

"Kaspian!" Methos hooked an arm around Kaspian's neck. He tightened the choke-hold, letting Kaspian know he was willing to kill him if necessary. Thankfully it was not: Kaspian sheathed the knife, relaxing in Methos' arms. "Is this how you keep a low profile?" Methos hissed in his ear. He released Kaspian and waited for him to scramble up. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

Kaspian growled, "He insulted me." His eyes slid to the man he had attacked.

Methos held on to Kaspian's arm, restraining him. "He insulted you? When did that become cause for this?" He saw Kaspian begin to reach for his knife again. "Don't even think about it," Methos warned.

When he met Kaspian's eyes, Methos saw something there he had never seen before. He almost recoiled from that look, so alien did it seem from the boy he had raised. Then Kaspian's hand fell away from the knife-hilt. He did not speak.

Methos turned to the stallholder, helping him up. "I apologise for my son's temper, sir. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." The man brushed dust from his clothes with his hands. "Thank you."

Methos turned away without another word. He returned to the bread vendor, Kaspian a dark presence at his shoulder. The man glanced at Kaspian and gave them the bread for the price Methos suggested. He appeared eager to be rid of them. That was the last of the supplies they needed, so Methos led them back toward the docks. Kaspian walked beside him, not speaking.

Methos did not mention the incident, but it troubled him. Public brawling was so far from Kaspian's character that in itself would have worried Methos, but there was more. Kaspian tried to kill that man. Over what? An insult? Kaspian had always been a little volatile, but he had never gone this far before. At least…not to Methos' knowledge.

They reached the ship and he was relieved to find Kronos and Silas waiting for them. A new sail lay on the deck and new ropes and other essential supplies were being loaded as they reached the dock. Methos climbed up the gangplank, relieved to be back aboard.

Kronos was frowning at him as he reached the deck. "Did something go wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing important," Methos answered firmly. He was laden down with supplies: bread, meat, ale and wine; he found a clear space on the deck and set everything down. "Do we have water?" he asked, looking at Silas.

Silas nodded. "Enough for a few weeks."

"Then I suggest we prepare to leave. The tide will turn soon." He turned to Kaspian. "Kas, what happened out there? It's not like you to lose control like that."

Kaspian stared at him through narrowed eyes. "How would you know?" he demanded. He stalked away, not waiting for an answer.

Methos stared after him, baffled. He felt the heat of Kronos' body at his back.

"Something wrong?" Kronos asked again.

"Kas got into a brawl. No harm done."

"Then why are you going after him?"

"I'm not," Methos lied. He moved away from Kronos and began preparing the ship for departure.

Three miles from the coast of Keftiu, with the island still within easy sight of the ship, Methos went below and brought Teryssa up to the deck. He dragged her to the stern, pointing to the island.

"Kronos thinks I should kill you," he told her. "But I remember what you told me the night Bethia died. You saw me as Death, didn't you?"

Teryssa did not answer. She hadn't spoken to him since the night they took her from Kalliste. Methos didn't care.

Methos lifted her in his arms. "So, I place your fate in your hands, priestess. If you reach the shore, remember to tell them Death was merciful."

It was only then Teryssa realised what he intended to do. She clung to him, struggling as he approached the ship's rail. "Methos, no! No!"

Still holding her, he smiled gently, touching her cheek with his fingers. He waited for her to relax in his arms, hope filling her eyes. Then he let go, dropping her over the side of the ship.

She screamed.

As Methos turned away, he saw Kronos watching him. "I knew you were clever, Methos, but I didn't see that coming."

"You approve?" Methos asked indifferently. It was over. Done.

"I thought we were alike, my brother. Now I know it."

Part Six