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The Myth of Methos

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The Myth of Methos by Quicksilver

The Myth of Methos
By Quicksilver

standard disclaimers

Author's Note: This is for my sister, Denise Zohra. As a Christmas gift, she asked me to write her a Methos story that doesn't have any insane female immortals wandering around (not that Shayana is precisely INSANE) or any Buffy characters. So, this is what she gets.....

And lemme see....... to my betas, Remy and Joanna, much thanks are owed..... as well as some EM chocolate..... This story is NOT THEIR FAULT...

WARNING: This fic is a dark fic - i.e. an EXTREMELY NEGATIVE LOOK AT METHOS AND CASSANDRA!


Date: September 16, 2065 AD
Place: Somewhere in Nepal
Characters: Cassandra and Methos

Methos ran his hand over her smooth cheek, watching her eyes blaze with a mixture of terror and hatred. "Cassandra," he said, smiling in a deceptively gentle fashion. "Have you missed me? It's been years."

Years where she had been his prisoner again. Years where she had died over and over of starvation when her food ran out. Like a pet Methos forgot to feed. She would have taken her own head, but Methos had carefully made sure there was nothing in the room she could do that with. Shortly after leaving Methos' head attached to his neck at MacLeod's command, Methos had kidnapped her and locked her away where no one would ever find her- except him. She wished, more than anything, that he would just kill her and get it over with. But then he wouldn't have anyone to gloat at. She admired, with horrified fascination, exactly what he had accomplished. "I hate you," she hissed angrily.

Methos laughed, a menacing laugh that made a chill crawl up her spine. "As you should. Do you know that you were the one who knew me best?"

She nodded. "MacLeod should have listened to me - how he could trust such a manipulating bastard, I'll never know!"

"Yes, you know why. MacLeod always wanted to believe the best of everyone, and I gave him exactly what he wanted. The ancient Immortal, the oldest, yet so companionable, who could fall in love with a dying woman," Methos said mockingly. Cassandra hated him for that - Methos had gloated about his use of Alexa. The poor woman hadn't had a clue what she'd been sharing her bed with.

Methos stood and picked up the katana that stood against the corner or the room. A gray room that she had been locked in for decades, her only company Methos when he stopped by to bring her food and tell her how the Game was going.

"It was easy. Time was the one thing I had on my side - it was inevitable that I would win," he said. He walked over to her, knowing that she was still too weak to be of any concern of his.

"Remember Richie? That whole demon business?" Methos said, laughing at his fond memories. "I certainly wasn't expecting that, but it played right into my hands, as usual. That's the secret to manipulation - be prepared to make lemonade out of lemons."

Cassandra said nothing, refusing to give Methos any satisfaction. If she had been free, she could have dealt with Ahriman. Methos could have also, but he had chosen to lie about the existence of demons.

"And it was easy to arrange for Amanda's accident," he said. "Stupid cop just didn't trust her when she said someone was after her.

"That's the trick. I didn't have to do much hunting - just a few words there, a piece of dropped information there.... MacLeod was such a center of Immortal activity. And such a puppet - a very STUPID puppet."

"Then why kill him?" Cassandra asked, even though she knew she shouldn't. Methos reveled in her pain. But she HAD to know why. MacLeod had been the closest thing she had had to a child.

Methos' eyes widened in mock-surprise. "Didn't you know? You and I are the last immortals left......"

Last Immortals left..... Cassandra looked at him, wondering how such a beautiful creature could be so vile. MacLeod had been partly right - Methos had changed, but only by becoming more evil.

"It's strange that the final battle will occur here, with no Watcher present," he mused.

Cassandra felt a shiver of fear. There was no way she could defeat Methos. She was still weak from her recent death from starvation, and she had no weapon to defend herself with. Part of her was glad that she'd soon be put out of her misery. A larger part, though, was frightened for the rest of the world. What would Methos do with the Prize? She shuddered to even think of it.

Methos knew Cassandra well. He answered her unspoken question. "I'm going to rule the world, shape it in my image," he declared. "I've ruled the world before, but this time, no one will share my throne. Kronos was too young to realize that I was playing a deeper game then he could even begin to understand. By dissolving the Horsemen and giving up power then, I managed to keep my head until now."

Then he tilted his head charmingly, and from seemingly out of nowhere, pulled a sword, tossing it to Cassandra. She caught it easily, confusion written all over her face.

"You might as well fight me," he said in a bored tone. "Do you know, I think I'm going to miss you?" he asked, sounding surprised. He picked up MacLeod's katana. "I think I'll use MacLeod's sword for this. It seems fitting somehow."

Cassandra held the sword she hadn't seen in almost seventy years like an old friend. Her calluses were long gone, but that didn't matter. She couldn't kill Methos in her weakened state, but she had to try.

The battle was a joke. Methos toyed with her for a few minutes before knocking the sword out of her hand. Then he kicked her, sending her fragile body into the wall. "Good-bye, Cassandra," he said softly. Then the sword descended, bringing the end of a witch's life, and the beginning of the darkest age the world would ever know.

THE END


FEEDBACK! FEEDBACK!!!

Justification:
I've never felt the need to justify anything I've written, but this sorta needs it. Please don't flame me because you dislike the way Methos was portrayed. I wanted a story where Cassandra wasn't evil - hell, maybe even right! This was inspired by a quote from PW himself... something to the effect that maybe Methos had been manipulating MacLeod all along.

And I love Methos (check my Buffy stories if ya want proof) but one of the ideas of fanfic is to explore possibilities. And I can't believe that Methos could descend as rapidly into darkness (to use a rather poetic phrase) as he did in "Not to Be" unless he wanted to.

Also, I think Methos has been ill served by many fanfics, becoming "tame" and "friendly." Methos is many things, but I don't believe he is truly capable of loving anyone more then he loves himself.


© 1999
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02/14/1999