The Swan Queen | Sherlock

Van Buren Supernova

'Child, why are you afraid? Are you afraid of me? Your hands are shaking, your skin is pale. You look like you've seen a ghost. There's no need to be frightened, I can't harm you, I'm behind the glass.'

I've always been taught that fear is not a weakness, it is a strength. If we embody our fear, it will make us stronger. Well I was terrified. My instructions were to head to the basement of the opera house. I had gotten so far, before a member of staff asked me where I was going and subsequently turned me around when I replied that I was looking for the bathroom. I returned to my balcony box instead, heart racing.

Mycroft texted me. A blunt: Where are you?

I texted back: At the opera.

I had only just pressed send when someone sat down beside me. My phone was snatched from my hand and placed in their jacket pocket. "You," I said, "You've been watching me." He was even more handsome up close, a few wrinkles on his forehead from frowning. He looked serious, a man who frowns a lot.

"You were supposed to come to the basement," he said sternly.

"And miss this?" I replied, signalling to the stage. "Never. You can't come between a girl and her love of opera."

He slammed his hands down on the balcony, making me jump. "Don't play games with me, Artemis."

The fact that he knew my name unnerved me even more. "Is that not what this is?" I asked. "'Ready to play again?' the text said, is this not all one big game?"

"People have died, and more will die, yourself included if you don't play by his rules. The Kings are playing, and you're just a pawn."

I was breathing heavily. Trying to hide my fear. Fear is not a weakness, it is a strength. Embrace it, Sam. "Let's pretend I made it to the basement, what happens now?"

"That doesn't matter. You failed to cooperate."

I raised my eyebrow, trying to act brave. "Then why are you here?"

"To warn you."

"Warn me? And who, may I ask, are you?"

"Sebastian Moran. I've been sent to protect you."

I laughed, it was all I could do. "Protect me? You've been sent to protect me?"

"Yes."

"Protect me from what?"

"From yourself, Sammy."

"From-" My words were cut off by a blow to the head. I'm not sure where it came from. When I awoke, Carmen was at an interval. The seat beside me was no longer occupied. My phone was back in my pocket and my head was aching. I touched it with my fingers, there was blood.

Suddenly I had no interest in opera. I left, not feeling relief until I was out on the busy streets of London. I checked my phone for anymore texts, but there were none. I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. Was he still around? Sebastian Moran. He said he was protecting me, but I didn't need protecting, especially not from him. I had Sherlock, Mycroft and John. I had Lestrade in the police. I had Sherlock fucking Holmes.

I would have to watch out for this Moran, he seemed to be working for M. But what if he was M? Perhaps now I should tell Sherlock about my involvement. I got a taxi back to Baker Street, but the flat was empty, as usual. I raided the cupboards and poured myself a vodka. I didn't have any mixers, so I used a little tap water. It was strong and vile, but I drank it anyway to calm my nerves.

Sherlock and John returned when I was 7 vodkas deep. They had solved another case for the bomber, as Sherlock had nicknamed him. I didn't tell them about my run-in with Sebastian Moran or my texts from M. I remained silent, which was foolish. My secrets would bury me.