I've accepted s i l v e r a u r o r a's writing challenge and had to write about Forridel & King Uther.
My object was a spoon and the quote I choose was "In his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold." (Fields of Gold, Sting)
This story takes place during season 2, The Nightmare begins and well, it's what might have happened if Merlin never got the chance to warn Forridel about the Kings men, searching for people who somehow are attached with the druids.
Enjoy!
"You'll tell me where they are – or your death will be painful", Uther yelled as he rose from his thrown, clearly losing his temper.
As Forridel didn't answer; the grip of the knights hardened around her arms and from that she took strength.
"You may threaten to kill me with a spoon, Uther Pendragon, but I won't betray my kin", she answered as calm as she could manage. But even if her voice sounded calm; her heart beat as if it tried to make its way out of her chest. "Not when they've done nothing to deserve the tyrannous treatment of yours."
She lifted her eyes but did not look at the king, but at his son. Arthur Pendragon.
His sharp face bare tracks of fairness and understanding, but a small wrinkle between his both eyebrows gave him a rather concerned look.
The boy with golden hair met her gaze and it was something in those blue eyes, a sort of sadness that hit her harder than the knight's had done when they caught her. Her heart almost stopped.
So he hadn't forgotten about her.
"Throw her in the dungeons, by sunrise tomorrow she'll be sent to her death", Uther declared and once again he sank down on his thrown with all authority he could manage.
"Father –", Arthur started with his eyes fixed on the beautiful peasant girl, but Forridel shocked her head to silent him. He didn't have to try rescuing her, they both knew that she was about die – the king wouldn't change his mind so easy.
The knights holding her both arms bowed to the royals and started to drag her towards the door. Knowing it would be her last chance to speak directly to the king, she turned her head to face him.
"Death will come to us all, Uther Pendragon, and for what you've done to my kin, you may burn slowly and painful in hell!" She spat towards the throne and was rewarded with a hit in the back of her head by one of the knight's before the doors closed behind them.
The night fell as Forridel sat on the cold stone floor, embracing her legs as she stared out of the small window to the dark sky. With a small, almost sad smile she noticed that the stars were still shining – what did they care about her destiny? They had too much in mind themselves; of course they didn't care if a human was about to die to protect her friends.
"I wish to speak with the prisoner"
She would recognize that voice from anywhere. Arthur.
One of her guards - the short, fat one – opened the doors to her cellar and the royalty walked in without even looking at her. Her heart started to beat faster.
"You may leave us."
"But sire, I really shouldn't, she's dangerous-", the guard started but a strict look from the prince turned him to silent. "As you wish, my lord."
The guard closed the door behind them and they both stood absolute silent, their eyes attached to each others as they waited for the sound of footsteps to vanish.
Green eyes meeting blue.
"Forridel", his voice was filled with both warmth and concern as he walked the few steps that separated them both from each other. "My dumb Forridel, why didn't you tell him – you would have gained mercy."
Forridel didn't answer but let out a sigh and threw her arms around his neck, leaned her head against his shoulder and started to cry. It was silent tears, both of the joy of seeing him again, breath his scent and hear to his voice and of the fear of losing him so soon.
"Hush my dear", he whispered as he stroked the long, golden hair of hers. "It'll be alright. Trust me."
Forridel nodded and tried to stop her tears, she looked at the beloved face of Arthur's and smiled slightly.
"It's funny you know, the last time we spoke to each other we was stubborn little child's. And now, look at you – soon you'll become next king of Camelot."
Arthur returned the smile and softly he leaned his cheek against her head, as he always used to do.
"I know, you weren't more than fifteen back then, right? And yet you had the heart to criticize me. But you know, that's what made me to fall head over heels in love with you."
"Yea, I know", she answered and breathed the unique smell of his before she whispered; "In his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold."
"I don't want any harm to come to you", Arthur whispered with pain in his voice as he lifted his head so that he could take a proper look at her.
"But there's nothing you can do to prevent this from happening – actually, I won't let you do anything. I'll do this for my people", she stopped as she heard the steps of the guards. "You must go now, my dear Arthur Pendragon."
Arthur hesitated for a moment, she could see that, but then he lowered his face and their lips met in a passionate kiss. Oh how she would miss him!
"Bye my love", he whispered, gave her yet another kiss and then walked out from her cell trying to hold his head high, but she could sense the same sadness within him as she felt too.
"Good bye", she whispered and sank down on the floor, her lips still burning of the intensity of their kiss and her heart beating of obsession. Oh, she had totally forgotten about how he always made her feel just by being her near - and now - she'd never experience that again.
As the morning came and the stars died one by one, Forridel prepared for her execution.
Steps were heard as the sun rose above the forest of Camelot and the young peasant girl rose from the dirty floor, straw attached to her simple, red dress.
It was the king himself, Uther Pendragon, which made her the honor.
"Miss Forridel", he said with a cold, warning voice. "This is your last chance to be pardoned with a quick death. If you don't tell me where I can find the druids, I'll let the executioner dig a hole in your chest with a spoon 'til he reaches your heart – there he will separate it from your body and throw it to the dogs."
Forridel's face turned pale but she didn't move an inch. Determined not to show him her fear.
"So that's how you treat people who can't help who they're born to be?" She looked at him with hatred in her eyes. "I'll never tell you where they are hidden!"
"No – that's how I treat traitors, those who wishes to bring nothing but illness to their land", he spun around and clapped his hands. Three guards came and opened the door to fetch her.
Forridel didn't move and let them lead her out of her prison and towards the courtyard.
The people of Camelot had gathered round the podium from where she'd be sentenced to her death and both amusement and sadness were shown in their eyes as the guards lead her pass them.
Just like an animal lead to slaughter.
The drums announced her appearance and she shut her eyelids as she was show the way up for the stairs.
"Citizens of Camelot", Uther's voice echoed over the courtyard. "This is what will happen all those who are guilty for treason. Forridel Thorn is sentenced to a slow death, refusing to reveal where the druids hides."
There was a pause and Forridel stood there, tall with her golden hair captured by the wind – her eyelids yet carefully closed.
"My son, Arthur Pendragon, wishes to be pardonable and give the accused a last chance to get a fair and quick execution", Uther's voice once again filled the courtyard. "And so she may."
Forridel opened her eyes and stared at the prince who was standing beside his father at the royal balcony. His blue eyes met hers for a second but when he saw her determined look he turned away.
"Never", she shouted and her voice gave echo over the court.
The king nodded slowly and carelessly she was laid on a bench-looking thing, her feet's and hands tied so tough that she could barely move.
The executioner climbed the stairs with utensils of all kinds tucked to his belt.
As he reached the girl he drew a small knife with sharp blade and with a quick move – he cut a thin wound right above her beating heart.
When Forridel saw what the executioner pulled out next from his belt, she started to laugh.
It was an almost mad laughter and tears started to fall from her eyes. The prince apologized and left the balcony, not able to watch his love die such a painful death, tears filling the blue eyes of his.
What the executioner had drawn was a spoon.
Well, I'm actually pleased of how this one turned out, even thought I might have done some grammar mistakes. And, I realized that Arthur and Forridel would make a lovely couple!
Yea, now I actually prefer Forridel instead of Guinevere, I think. Arthdel 3
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