154AN: And chapter two again. Can you tell I love hot cocoa?
Beta: SummerQuill
Changes: Just little ones.
Midnight
Here There Be Marshmallows
1997
He wasn't sure what woke him. Perhaps the stifled crying from the room next door, maybe the silent opening of a door, or the soft footfalls passing his room. Whatever it was, he awoke, and turned over, aware of something not quite right.
When he peeked into the hall, the kitchen light was on, and occasionally little sniffs would emanate from its general vicinity.
Bad dream? he wondered, and entered the brightened room.
Anne sat, shivering slightly, at the table. She glanced up for only a second when he entered, then back at the dark mahogany wood. She was still shy of him, as he had adopted her and two other older girls only a month ago. Neither said anything, he just looked about the kitchen as if hoping for an answer to spring from the refrigerator, and tears glided slowly down her plump, seven-year-old face.
Abruptly, he moved to the stove and took a saucepan out from under it, set it down, took a container that rather boldly said COCOA on the side from another cupboard, and started carefully placing spoonfuls in the pan. Anne was watching him again, her wide eyes taking in all the proceedings, but especially the just-noticeable limp, that slight favoring of his left leg. Three heaping plops of cocoa, and almost as much sugar, while water boiled in the microwave. Merlin quickly made the hot chocolate, almost on auto-pilot, like he had done it a thousand times before. Add milk, heat, vanilla, done. Get two mugs, fill, carry to the table with a bag of marshmallows.
He set one mug down in front of her. "Drink," he said softly, "you'll feel better."
Only one second of hesitation, and suddenly her cup was almost overflowing with 'mallows, and being drunk like the girl was dying of thirst. Her adopted brother (he insisted he was not old enough to be referred to as 'father') downed his slower, but with no less enthusiasm.
"More?"
"Yes, please." She had a brown mustache now, which was totally at odds with her blond hair.
After about ten minutes of drinking, he murmured, "Why are you out here anyway? It's quite late. Or rather, early."
The clock read fifteen minutes past twelve.
Anne shivered slightly. "I can't. I really can't go back into that room."
Merlin looked at her sharply. "May I ask why?"
Two pairs of blue eyes met. Anne's fell first, into the steaming brown of delicious chocolate. "It's too dark. There's no light at all." She looked up again, reddening. "Please, I'm not frightened of the dark. It's what's in the dark that scares me."
He nodded, brow furrowing. "Do you want a light?"
She smiled weakly in response.
Merlin stood. "Just a moment, I have one I can find in a jiffy." Just before he reached the door, he stopped and turned back.
"Just out of curiosity, what doyou think is in the darkness?"
"It, it doesn't really matter. You wouldn't believe me anyway."
You wouldn't say that if you didn't want to tell someone."Try me."
There was a pause.
Anne spoke softly. "When I close my eyes in the dark, I see things in my head. Awful creatures and monsters, griffins and vampires and ghouls, but they're worse than any I could have imagined, I just know they're real. They stand around me at night and scare me and I can't get them to go away."
She sighed and took another drink. It reminded Merlin of someone drowning their sorrows.
"I'm sorry, I never noticed before," he said, but she shook her head.
"I haven't seen any since I got here."
"You've only been here a month."
"Yes, I know. I'm not sure what it is about this house, or you, or my new sisters, they don't come as often anymore. At the orphanage, they would come twice a week. More." She ducked her head. "The other girls would laugh because of my nightmares."
Ghouls and griffins? whispered a little voice at the back of Merlin's head. Hmm, I wonder why those are there . . .
He ignored it.
"What do you think they want?" Merlin asked.
"They never speak," she replied, "they only watch."
"Do you want my help getting rid of them?"
She looked at him with a sharpness that defied her young age. "You could do that?"
"Absolutely." Banishments? Piece of cake. Besides, this is the perfect way to bring up the subject of magic.
All three of the girls had magic, he knew. The eldest, Divina, being ten, even knew it was there, but was frightened, not understanding what it meant. She and Anne would be the easiest to convince, with Anne so young. It was the middle girl, Melinda, that he was worried about. Melinda had reached the sensible age of nine, and so would scoff at any supernatural topics. Unless he showed her beyond a doubt . . .
Ah no, they're asleep. I'll convince her another time. Just Anne, tonight.
"Show me where they are," he said.
Anne's bedroom door creak!ed open, and she pointed. "There, they were standing around the bed."
"Like moths to a flame," Merlin muttered, but shook his head when she shot him a questioning look. For a moment he thought. Then he nodded.
"Yes," he said, "this is what we're going to do. There's no need to be frightened, but I'm going to turn off all the lights and we'll wait for them, alright?"
Merlin looked Anne straight in the eye. "I need you to be brave, Anne. You're going to have to draw them towards you, draw their eye away from me. If they realize I'm there, they'll leave. They're just spectres, they can't hurt you, but you know it'll be frightening." He knelt down and clasped her shoulders tightly. "I'll be here, and I'll get rid of them. Understand?"
She nodded, her eyes wide. She gulped. Merlin smiled. "Thank you," he whispered.
Merlin stood, and strode out for a moment to switch off both the kitchen and hall lights. An oppressive darkness stole over the house, and Anne gripped herself in fear. Gentle hands, worn by years of use and handling, took her shoulders and guided her to the bed.
"You stay here," came the disembodied whisper. "I'll be by the door. It's not very far."
The hands left her, and she scrambled under the covers, quaking. She tried to pretend to sleep, but couldn't.
Their arrival was very commonplace: the room always grew warmer, as if heated by the memory of a summer's day, and seemed to smell sweeter. This always confused Anne. Where do they come from? she wondered. Someplace nice, I reckon. But why, when they're all so scary?
Faint, misty lights illuminated her visitors. An enormous golden griffin, taking up half of the small room, towered over her, its wings flexing impatiently, its eyes rolling in every direction. A blue-skinned Sidhe, small and petite and fairy-like, all sharp points and malevolent features, flitted here and there and everywhere, while a large hog just sat and stared with unnerving intensity.
Anne whimpered. Hurry up hurry up hurry up hurry up hurry up hur—
BANG!
Anne jumped about a foot lying down, which was impressive, and hurriedly sat up. Merlin had moved from his spot by the door, and now she could see him—mostly his eyes, which glowed like dragon's gold. He held a warding hand out in front of him, the creatures flinching away from him, hissing and gasping and cawing. Merlin stepped inexorably forward, whispering powerful words under his breath, a look of utter concentration steeped into every previously invisible line of his face. The creatures shrieked as one, and it seemed like an answering echo came, like other monsters knew they were being banished from their favorite sport — tormenting Anne Evans — as well.
"Go back," Merlin said firmly. "Go back, and stop haunting this girl. You have no place in this world, not for many years past, and not for many years to come. So leave."
The creatures hesitated.
"Leave!" Merlin all but bellowed.
This time they listened, dissolving into cold sparks and vanishing.
Merlin sighed, long and soft, his arm returning to his side. Darkness returned, but still Merlin seemed to glow with some sort of inner light.
"Are they gone?"
"Yes."
"Forever?"
"For . . . a very long time."
"They'll be back?"
"Eventually, yes. But you don't have to worry about that for a while."
"Oh."
She almost collapsed with relief. Neither said anything for many moments, then suddenly, she sat up again and said:
"What do you say to finishing that hot chocolate as celebration?"
When Divina awoke the next morning, it was to the surprising sight of her new brother and sister, Martin and Anne, fast asleep with their heads propped on the table in the most uncomfortable way imaginable.
"The witching hour, somebody had once whispered to her, was a special moment in the middle of the night when every child and every grown-up was in a deep deep sleep, and all the dark things came out from hiding and had the world to themselves."
—Roald Dahl
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