When Muses Attack!

~~~

A/N: Naira - indeed it is a word. I hope that is a good thing. It can be rather difficult living with him sometimes. He is very very sensual and it tends to be somewhat distracting. Yeah, I know you're not going to give me any sympathy but you can't blame me for trying, ok?

~~~

“What are you doing?” He demands, hovering over my shoulder one afternoon.

“Nothing, go away,” I mumble trying in vain to hide the screen image from him.

“Who is that?” He scowls, pulling my hands away from the computer screen to see.

I sigh. “I needed a new picture of you. The old one didn’t quite capture your wickedness,” I explain.

He snorts. “That man is not me,” he declares snobbily.

I laugh. “It didn’t seem to bother you before,” I point out.

“I am much more beautiful,” he sniffs haughtily, preening himself.

“Whatever,” I reply printing out a new picture that captures the insolent expression he normally wears. (It switches from insolence to arrogance and I can’t quite decide which one is more tolerable. Today we are going with insolent).

He narrows those steely eyes at me and I ignore him. I really don’t care what he thinks.

“Watch the movie then,” he challenges.

“No, I don’t want to,” I say. “Are we going to write or not? You’ve been skulking around for days pouting about something.” Probably some imagined slight on my part.

“No. We’re going to watch the movie again,” he declares abruptly.

I groan and roll my eyes but I put in the movie and fast forward it to his appearance. I sit there, watching in growing horror for a few moments before I stop the movie, unable to take anymore.

“That’s not you at all!” I gasp, staring at him incredulously. “What the fuck?” Suddenly everything I’ve thought was true is, well, not.

The insolent “I told you so, disbeliever” look is back complete with the turned up nose. He snorts and tosses his head slightly.

I stare at him stupefied. “It is sort of but not really. Close but not. God, that is weird!” Suddenly Mr. Wicked seems more – real – and frighteningly so! I can’t stop gaping at him. I look at him then back to the screen shot of Craig Parker. But it’s not the same. Not the same at all. I shiver a bit.

“Am I not more beautiful?” He purrs, grinning slightly.

“It’s not that,” I begin and immediately his grin fades and is replaced by the disgusted look he is prone to give me when I’ve displeased him. “It’s the voice, too. Yours is deeper and huskier. You’re much bigger, too – taller I think. And I can smell you and feel your presence. But seeing the movie it’s just weird now after having you here.”

I’m getting really creeped out by this and eye him cautiously. I don’t want to see that movie again. It’s too bizarre. I hit the eject button and kick it hastily under the couch so I don’t have to look at it.

He moves closer to me and I back up. This has really weirded me out on several levels and I don’t quite know what to make of it. All this time I thought they were one in the same creature but they aren’t and my poor lil’ empirical brain just can’t handle this contradiction.

“You like me much better, don’t you Mel?” He murmurs seductively, posing for me. “You like the way I feel and smell and sound. You like how big I am. How strong I am. You thought the March Warden was just a small part for Craig Parker in a movie. But we aren’t the same person. Not at all,” he smiles horridly and I feel weak from shock.

“Stay away from me,” I say nervously and shake my finger at him.

“No,” he says flatly. “I want you to stop this right now. There is no Craig Parker. There is only me. And you. Do you understand?”

“What do you want?” I whisper. I’m not so much scared as I am still trying to wrap my mind around this whole idea of him being a separate entity. It’s just not computing.

“I want you to stop this foolishness and pay attention to ME. This is MY story and you’ve been too distracted lately. This will cease,” he says coldly.

“OK,” I agree. Whatever he wants. Just don’t make the mad muse go postal.

He draws himself up and looks down at me suspiciously. He’s wondering if I’m just giving into him to shut him up. I’ve done it before, that’s for sure. But not this time. This time I’m still trying to figure out just what in the hell is going on here and how can I get a grip on myself?

“Are you going to tell me what you want me to write?” I ask, still pointing at him as if my shaking finger could stave him off.

“No,” he says. “No writing. Not for now. We are going to talk. About me.”

I snort and drop my hand. “Of course we are,” I agree. Just what in the fuck else would we talk about? The weather? Yeah, right. The personality is all his without a doubt. No human being could be so insufferably conceited.

“Sit down,” he orders me and I obey and sit on the couch. He stands in front of me studying me for a minute as if trying to figure out how to recalibrate my brain. I wish I could help him. I desperately want to be recalibrated as well.

Slowly, he pulls off his tunic and flexes his muscles for me. I just stare at him dumbfounded. What the fuck is he doing?

Then, much to my chagrin, he slips out of pants. He’s wearing those silk boxers again and I’m terrified he will remove those as well.

“Uhm – really, this isn’t necessary,” I say hastily. I really really don’t want him to get naked. What would that prove?

“Now look at him,” he points to the computer screen where a picture of Craig Parker as Haldir is showing. “And look at me and tell me what you see,” he demands.

“No,” I whisper, refusing to look at the computer. “I don’t wanna.”

He grabs my chin forcing me to look at him. “Tell me what you see, Mel!”

I take a deep breath. He’s not going to let this drop. “How can he be fucking REAL?” My mind screams. “How? It’s just not possible!”

“Tell me how we are different. Look at me. You know it’s true,” he hisses dangerously.

What do I see when I look at the REAL March Warden standing in my living room?

“You’re taller and more muscular. Slim but well defined. Your hair is thicker and you like, glow or something weird,” I breathe. He lets go of my chin satisfied that I will continue. The gray eyes narrow slightly in consideration.

“Turn around,” I say. He does. “Your skin is like perfect, too. Firm and smooth. But you do have his eyes. Only the color is a bit off.” Yes, and that is quite strange. He grunts.

“What else do you see?” He asks softly, turning back to face me.

I consider this for a minute. “Your scars,” I say, my eyes opening wider. “I can still see them. They’re slightly pink on your back and shoulder.”

He nods. “Go on,” he says. “How do you know he is not me?”

“It’s just not,” I explain lamely. “He looks like you for the most part but he’s not you. I can’t really explain it. It’s like twins or something. The same but not.”

“Hmmm, yes, twins,” he considers this for a minute.

“And you have a nicer ass,” I giggle. I couldn’t help but look. “From what I can tell from pictures, anyway.”

One perfectly arched eyebrow shoots up toward his hairline. I cover my mouth and giggle hysterically at the look on his face. Kind of reminds me of a “shocked Mr. Spock” look. If there is such a thing.

“And nicer legs. Much longer,” I giggle some more. Hell, if I’m gonna spill my guts I might as well spill them all!

I expect him to slither up to me but he does not. He merely smiles indulgently and preens a bit, turning around so I can see his behind again. And it is nice. I want to smack it and see if it’s as firm as it looks but I refrain. God only knows what terrible fate would result from THAT stupid move!

I can no longer contain myself and crack up laughing falling over on the couch. This is just too bizarre for me to handle. Certainly I’ve gone off the deep end. I will need some serious counseling before this is all over, of that I am certain.

For once, he doesn’t seem to mind my hysterical laughter in the least. He probably recognizes it for what it truly is – a pathetic cry for help.

As I slowly recover my little fit of the giggles and set back up, he bends over and murmurs into my ear as his large hands squeeze my hair quite tightly.

“There is only me now, Mel. No one else. Do you understand?” He purrs evilly.

Silently I nod and he presses his cheek to mine. “No one else,” he repeats softly.

~~~