Date: Fri, 9 Feb 1996 12:50:21 EST Reply-To: Vi Moreau Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Vi Moreau Subject: ELENA IN PARIS, PART V ELENA IN PARIS Part V They reached Richie's hostel, packed up his bag, and were on their way back when they both felt the buzz. They were close enough to the Seine, maybe..."Mac?" Richie called. When there was no answer, Elena drew her sword in a swift, practiced move. The figure that moved to intercept them was not familiar. She stepped closer to get a better view. "Well, well, what a fortuitous meeting. Here I was, so bored and now I have something to amuse me again," said a deep voice. The man spoke French with a Russian accent. He was a head taller than both of them and almost as wide-- backlit they could see he held an extremely long blade. Elena sighed. This was bad timing, because she had other things to do, because Richie was with her, because she was so upset about Maria again, because she wasn't right with Duncan, because she could feel that second drink churning inside her, and especially because the Immortal before her was a brute. "It's wonderful to be able to bring joy to others," she answered in English, for Richie's benefit. "But really, 'Gospodin'..." "My name is Vassily Ivanovich Rechenko. You have heard of me?"Actually Elena had heard of him. He was an awesomely strong fighter, with a reputation for..."I fight every Immortal I meet!" That was it. "And why not, 'tovarisch'? You're probably twice the size of every Immortal you meet. But actually, we were just out for an early stroll. Neither of us is looking for a fight." "Well," laughed Rechenko, "I cannot help being large, can I?" "No, but you can help fighting everybody you meet." "Look, comrade," put in Richie, "it's been a very long day. All we want to do is go home and get a good night's sleep, alright?" "You know, I love the sound of fear in someone's voice," he answered, amused. Elena and Richie looked at each other. Maybe they wouldn't be able to walk away from this one after all. "You first, woman. Then the boy." "How do you know he's not five hundred years older than you? Anyway, you're going to have to settle for just me. My name is Elena Conchita Duran y Agramonte, and he was just leaving." She turned to Richie and said to him, "Please go." "Forget it!" was Richie's answer. "Just who does this guy think he is, anyway?" "Would you give me a moment, Vassily?" The Russian bowed and saluted with his longsword. "The condemned are always entitled to one last request, of course. I will simply find him later." Elena took Richie aside. "Go to Duncan. If I don't join you in one half hour..." "No way I'm leaving you, Duran! Do you know what Mac would say to me...?" "That you did the right thing. One on one, remember? That's the rule. And I'm first. If he can take my head with that longsword, he can take yours." Richie shook his head and started to speak. "Richie, do you think I'll die any easier knowing you will die after me?" It was the same argument Darius had used on her when she blamed herself for leaving her mentor, Don Alvaro, to die at the hands of St. Cloud. It was also the same argument Don Alvaro himself had used to get her to leave him. It worked on her, and now it worked on Richie. He was still shaking his head, but she physically pushed him away, saying, "Tell him that I love him." "How touching, Elena," sneered Rechenko. "Are you finished with your goodbyes?" "I'm not finished, Vassily. I'm just starting." She attacked. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Richie back away and move off into the dark night. Elena Duran was a large, strong woman--fully as tall and perhaps even wider than Richie, she was composed mostly of lean muscle. She had spent most of her four hundred years practicing how to fight, and she was as good a swordswoman and hand-to-hand-fighter as she could possibly be. On the other hand, Vassily Rechenko was a head taller and outweighed her by about 50 kilos, a little over a hundred pounds. He was, simply, a bull, and the best example she could think of the phrase, "The bigger they are, the harder they hit." He also had a longer reach and a longer sword, but she knew she was faster. If she could just dart in, hit and run and wear him down, she had a chance. IF she could withstand the battering. But her mental attitude wasn't right, and she had no time to psych herself up. She thought of what Don Alvaro would say. "!'Fajate, Elenita! No te des por vencida'!" Never give up! "Do not go gentle, rant and rave, fight, fight against the dying of the light!"* She very quickly realized that she'd be forced to hold her sword two handed--with one hand she couldn't withstand the sheer force of his blows. But she could avoid him, sometimes. It was a deadly dance, and seemed to last forever. Her arms and shoulders quickly got extremely tired, but Rechenko had only cut her twice, neither time seriously. She, on the other hand, had managed to slice and jab him several times. She could tell he was tiring, too, and hurting, as he perceptibly slowed down, but she knew she couldn't last much longer either. Constant movement had its dangers, too. She almost tripped, and he was right on top of her, but she just avoided a swing that would have cut her in half. And then she felt it, the presence of an Immortal behind her. Apparently so did Rechenko, because he looked up and past her, and she took advantage of his momentary lapse to lunge in an all out effort. She felt her sword go into his chest and kept pushing forward to the hilt, twisting. Rechenko bellowed a curse down into her face and started to fall down on top of her. She pulled back quickly, pulling her sword out with such force that she fell back to the ground. Elena landed badly--her head hit the pavement too hard, and something dug deeply into her back. She knew the fight wasn't over, but she was too stunned to move, on the edge of consciousness, and just lay there, panting. Amanda had settled down onto the sofa, but Duncan paced up and down until he felt the buzz approaching rapidly. Richie burst in through the door, waking Amanda. "Mac!" he panted. "We ran across another Immortal, just on the other side of the Louvre!" "Who??!!!" "He's a Russian, his name is Rechenko! He challenged Duran, and she told me to get back here! Mac, the guy's a monster, he's six six, two sixty! He'll kill her, Mac!" Duncan was already on his way out the door, with Richie close behind. He quickly decided the car would be too slow and just ran. His whole body felt cold. From what he had heard of the Russian Immortal Vassily Ivanovich Rechenko, Richie was right--Elena would be like a child against his strength. He also knew that if they had already started combat there was nothing he could do for her; he could only watch her win or die. They ran around the museum to a little side street; as they got close Duncan heard the distinctive sound of steel on steel. As they came around the corner he saw that the man was as large as he had heard. But suddenly Rechenko looked towards Duncan and Richie, and Elena chose that moment to make her move. She lunged. Duncan couldn't see what happened exactly--her body blocked the action--but she fell backward, hard, as the the Russian fell forward. Then something completely unexpected happened. Out of the darkness beyond the fighters a woman ran out and knelt next to Rechenko. "Vassily!" she cried. "Vassily, leve-toi, mon amour, je t'en prie!" She shook him. Duncan MacLeod had never in his life deliberately interfered in an Immortal battle, but he was not about to let anyone else do so. When he got to the woman she was trying to lift Rechenko's longsword, presumably to use on Elena. Duncan wrapped his long arms around her and pulled her away. The sword fell to the ground and she screamed. "Non! Laisse-moi! Au secours!" She was very young, still in her teens, and small enough that he could hold her with one arm; he put his other hand over her mouth. She fought him like a wildcat, but he lifted her up and dragged her away from the two prone figures. "Mmmm!" she mumbled, trying to bite him. They came back to where Richie was still standing, she still struggling wildly. Duncan whispered in her ear, in French, "We have to let them fight it out themselves! We can't interfere!" She kept struggling, kicking, trying to yell. For a long moment Elena lay there, making long wheezing, pained sounds, but still alive! How he longed to go to her, to pick her up, to help her! But he and Richie had probably already interfered by distracting them. All he could do was stand there and keep the girl away. "Get up, Elena," he murmured under his breath, as the minutes passed. "It's not over yet, get up, now!" Slowly she rolled up to her knees, holding her head, moaning, using her sword for support. 'She's taking too long!' he thought. Finally she was standing in front of her opponent, leaning on her sword and shaking her head slowly, maybe trying to clear it. "Damn it!" he muttered. "Kill him, Elena. Kill him now!" The French girl coiled like a spring and suddenly, in a burst of strength, almost got away from him. Her mouth was free. "Vassily! Non! Laisse-moi! Vassily!" Duncan muttered in her ear again. "Listen to me. I'll let you go if you promise not to interfere." "But he'll die!" she cried. "They have to finish it on their own. You can't help him!" After what seemed like hours and was just minutes Duncan saw Rechenko start to move. Apparently Richie saw him too. "Mac!" he exclaimed in a whisper. Duncan only held the French girl by her arm--she tried to rush forward, but he was too fast for her. "Stay!" he ordered pulling her back again. Elena still stood, then agonizingly slowly she shifted slightly to the right of the other Immortal. Rechenko lifted his head, making guttural sounds, then gathered his arms under his chest, and Elena still stood, head down. She seemed to be having trouble with her sword, but as he started to lift up she swung, saying "'Dos vedonya, Vassily Ivanovich Rechenko. !Solamente puede haber una'!" Elena took a step back and fell to her knees again as his head fell from his shoulders. Her own head still wasn't clear, but she knew she'd gathered enough strength to decapitate him. If she could only have a few minutes to recover, to just rest, but immediately his Quickening left him and went to her, her whole body convulsed, and she screamed in a mixture of pain and delight.The first thing to invade her was always the consciousness of the other Immortal, his/her personality trying to overcome her in her weakened state. Other Immortal personalities, too, attacked her then, trying to become the strongest, to rule her mind. But once she established control (and sometimes it was harder than others), she always felt a surge of power and joy not unlike sexual ecstacy, but many times stronger and mixed with incredible pain. Her continuing screams were drowned out by the lightning, the sounds of building and car windows breaking, lights exploding, electricity flashing off. The light show seemed to last forever, and when it was over, Elena collapsed, still conscious but too exhausted to move. Duncan finally let her go, and the French girl ran to Rechenko with a cry of pure pain. Duncan came to help Elena to her feet, then hugged her tightly. He had no words--the last time he felt so relieved was when she had escaped from the Hunters in the warehouse stateside. But now he was looking over at the girl, kneeling on the ground, rocking back and forth, sobbing. "Who is she?" asked Elena, still breathing hard. She still felt dizzy and disoriented, but felt herself getting stronger by the minute. "She was with Rechenko. She saw everything, and I'm pretty sure she knows about us." "Why would he tell her about Immortals? Duncan, she's just a child!" Richie helped the girl to her feet. He tried his halting French. "I'm sorry, miss...look, maybe I can walk you home..." "!'Non'! Don't touch me!" she cried, pulling away from him. Richie tried again. "I just want to help..." "Liar! Where were you when Vassily needed your help, when I needed your help before?" she spat out. "Look, he was going to kill me next!" he said in English, exasperated. "If you truly want to help me, then kill her!" The girl pointed to Elena. "Take her head!" Elena closed her eyes, remembering how she had felt, over the centuries, when someone she loved had died. She took the girl by the shoulders, not allowing her to break away. "Listen! Listen to me! Vassily and I just did what we had to do, what we're supposed to do!" She didn't bother to add that they didn't have to fight, that they could have just walked away, but he wouldn't let her. "He wasn't supposed to lose! He said he would always win! He was so strong! He was supposed to take your head! You were supposed to die, not him!" "I know, and I'm sorry. I know how you feel." "No you don't, you can't..." "I've been alive for almost four hundred years, girl! Do you think I've never lost anyone?" This was too harsh, and the girl glared at her, teary-eyed. "I don't know how, but I swear I'll kill you!" Elena shook her. "No, listen to me, child. You stay away from me! There are enough people after my head, you'd only get in harm's way! You go home, and you live the rest of your life, and you remember him. That's all you can do." "I hate you! I will kill you, I swear it!" Elena released her. "Go home! Richie, can you help her out?" "Sure." "'Non'! I want no help from any of you." She backed away, then added. "You watch yourself, Elena Duran y Agramonte! I heard your name! I will kill you!" Elena had been threatened by cold, skilled fighters many times. She was more worried about the girl getting hurt than about herself. She sighed and closed her eyes, reaching into her mind, and said, "Michelle? You're Michelle, right?" The girl stopped moving away. "'Ma petite'. He used to call you 'ma petite', didn't he?" Michelle seemed frozen. "How did you...???" "He loved you, Michelle. And he wants you to live." "What are you saying?" she was panting, more frightened now, apparently, than before. "Live for him, Michelle. He wants you to have a full, happy life. He's telling me this, right now. He's inside me." She opened her eyes and looked at the young girl. "Do you understand?" Instead of answering, Michelle ran off into the darkness. Duncan nodded at Richie, who followed her. Duncan was impressed by how much compassion Elena had shown in dealing with this Mortal. She had even allowed Vassily Rechenko's mind to come forward, to communicate with him and send a message to his lover, a dangerous proposition because there was always the chance that the other Immortal's mind would try to take over. He put his arm around her. "Are you alright?" She didn't answer. For a moment they stood in silence, then she reached into a pocket, opened his hand, and put Maria's broken chain and cross in it. He took a long look, guessing what it meant. Then they walked back to the barge. End of ELENA IN PARIS Part V Translations: 'pension' - hostel 'Gospodin' - mister 'tovarisch' - comrade 'fajate' - fight 'no te des por vencida' - don't give up 'leve-toi, mon amour, je t'en prie!' - get up, my love, I beg you! 'laisse-moi' - let me go 'au secours!' - help! 'dos vedonya' - goodbye 'Solamente puede haber una' - There can be only one 'ma petite' - my little one *with apologies to Dylan Thomas copyright by Vivian Moreau, 1995 =========================================================================