Arthur could feel Guinevere's steady breath blowing across the skin of his neck as she shifted her head slightly.
He repositioned his arm so that he could more easily hold the weight of his sleeping wife who sat on his lap at the table.
Her belly was still slightly large from the baby she had given birth to only weeks ago. A beautiful, healthy baby girl. She had her mother's brown curls and her father's shimmering blue eyes.
Gwen, with slight humor in her eyes, had insisted the girl be named Esmeralda. Arthur had obliged, and Camelot had been blessed with a princess - Princess Esmeralda.
A slight snore escaped Guinevere's lips, and Arthur smiled as he signed his name one last time on the paper in front of him. He pushed his chair back slowly and carefully, his arm winding around her back and his other slipping under her knees. He rose from the chair and walked towards their bed. Guinevere's head lolled on his shoulder, her lips grazing his neck.
He lowered her onto the bed and she stirred slightly, her hair spreading wildly on her pillow. Gwen's eyes opened slowly as she smiled. "Come here," she whispered.
Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and leaned towards her. He knew exactly what she wanted - a goodnight kiss. She placed her hands tenderly on his face and her lips brushed his ever-so-slightly.
It was obvious that she knew exactly what she was doing, because something inside Arthur fluttered nervously.
"Goodnight, my king," she murmured, removing her hands before beginning to turn to lay on her side.
"No, you don't," Arthur purred, turning her back over. His lips molded to hers comfortably and familiarly.
Her hand ran down his chest, across his thin shirt. She could feel his hot breath against her lips and she smiled. His hands had found their way to her waist. "This is exactly what you wanted to happen," Arthur stated dryly, pulling away.
"Maybe." She bit her lip and giggled.
Arthur stood and frowned, walking away. But he turned and smiled at her before disappearing behind the screen to change into more comfortable sleeping clothes.
As he emerged, he saw that Guinevere had already fallen asleep for the most part, and noticed the small writhing shape next to her on the sheets. A small cry escaped the baby's lips as she began to fuss.
Making his way over to the bed, Arthur picked up the small princess gingerly and cradled her in his arms. Her cries became more frequent and louder as she squirmed in her small gown, a crease between her tiny eyebrows.
Normally, children of royalty or nobility would be cared for by a nurse or a nanny, and would sleep in their own room, but Gwen had insisted that she take care of her own children. She felt that the bond between mother, father, and child would be strengthened if the children were taken care of by their own parents.
So, naturally, Arthur had struggled through sleepless night after sleepless night, keeping to his wife's wishes. And the funny thing? He didn't regret it in the slightest. The time he spent with the princess was some of the most precious of his life, and he found that he would not have traded it for anything.
"Shhh," he murmured, bouncing and rocking the baby. Esmeralda continued to wail, her face growing red. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she cried, only stopping for quick intakes of breath.
"It's all right, it's all right," he hummed soothingly in her ear. Arthur kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, sighing. "Sleep, princess."
Her wailing eventually lessened to a small whine as she stared up at him with her blue eyes.
"Hello, Esmeralda," he whispered as his fingers stroked her dark curls.
She continued to absentmindedly whine, her small hands reaching up to fist in his hair.
"There we go," he cooed. "That's more like it."
Arthur heard the door creak slightly and then heard the pitter-patter of small feet against the stone.
There was a tug on his shirt and a very quiet "Daddy," whispered.
"What is it, Isabel?" Arthur murmured, squatting down so that he was eye to eye with his eldest daughter, who was four years old.
Her blonde curls bounced and her blue eyes were wide. "There was something outside my window, Daddy! Something terrible!"
The king and queen were frequently entertained with stories told by Isabel. Imaginary adventures and quests she had accomplished. She brought them nonsense things from around the castle - a candlestick, a doorknob - and claimed they were her spoils of war. Her imagination grew every day, her stories more elaborate with each passing week.
"Outside your window?" Arthur's eyes grew playfully wide as he went along with her story. "What was it, Isabel?"
"I think it was a narglit, Father!" Isabel exclaimed. The word was utter gibberish and had no meaning. Narglits, as far as Arthur knew, didn't exist.
"Narglits!" he gasped. "In Camelot? Are you sure?"
"Quite," she whispered frantically. Her blue eyes were excited and flitted to the window before she looked back at Arthur. "It had wings like this-" she stretched her arms as wide as they would go- "and fangs like swords. It's eyes were red were like fire!"
"Oh my! Well, what did you do?" Arthur pressed, continuing the act.
Isabel huffed and put her hands on her hips, a blonde curl falling in front of her eyes. "I told him to go away, or I would get Excalibur! What else?" she asked impatiently.
Arthur shook his head. "I guess if I was a narglit, I would have run away right then and there. Did he?"
"Of course he did!" She threw her hands in the air. "You can be quite daft, Arthur," she patted his shoulder with her hand, imitating her mother.
Shrugging, Arthur murmured, "Well, what are you going to do? I am a boy. Boys are always stupid."
Isabel sighed comfortingly and patted his cheek. "I know, I know." She padded across the floor, looking around the room. "Where is that blasted sword?" she murmured to herself.
Arthur stood and glanced at the snoring Esmeralda in his arms. He walked quickly to the bed and set her down gently on the mattress beside Guinevere.
"Oh!" he heard Isabel say. Arthur spun and saw her reaching for his long sword, which was resting against the bed frame.
"Ohh, no you don't," he grabbed her under the arms and swung her away from Excalibur as she reached for it.
"Ugh! Arthur, let go of me!" She pounded her fists against his back as he slung her over his shoulder.
"You sound like your mother," Arthur chuckled.
"Oh, hush, Arthur," Guinevere chastised him, opening her eyes. She rolled over and touched Esmeralda's cheek, closing her eyes again.
Isabel squirmed, still fighting. "Yes! Hush, Arthur!"
"The narglits might hear you if you keep fighting me," Arthur said.
Isabel went silent, stopping her protests.
Chuckling silently, Arthur began to make his way to the door so that he could take Isabel back to her room.
"No!" Isabel whispered frantically. "Excalibur! You've got to take Excalibur, Daddy!"
Arthur turned and picked up Excalibur before continuing to carry her out of the room. "Of course, of course."
As he walked the short distance to Isabel's room, they passed Sir Gwaine in the corridor. Arthur nodded and smiled at him.
"Monsters again, Bell?" he questioned, turning to face her as Arthur continued walking.
Isabel's head popped up with excitement. "Oh, you've no idea, Gwaine! They're everywhere! Narglits, too!"
Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "Arthur taking care of them for you?" Gwaine asked.
Arthur felt Isabel nod behind him. "Although," she whispered, "between you and me, I think I'll be doing the fighting. I think he'll be too scared."
Gwaine laughed and continued down the hallway.
As Arthur reached the open door to Isabel's room, he set her down. "Lead the way, princess."
Isabel looked at him with wide, nervous eyes, and then composed herself, standing up straight with her chin held high. She marched into the room and quickly made a dash to hide beside her bed; Arthur followed suit.
"Do you see them?" she whispered, pointing a small finger at the window. Other than smoke rising from the houses in the lower town and the moon in the sky, there was nothing to be seen.
"Oh, yes," Arthur murmured. "I see them. You were right - look at the size of those fangs!"
A smile spread across her face. "Oh, I told you so!"
Arthur ducked behind the bed, hiding from sight. Isabel did the same, and she reached for Arthur's hand.
Arthur held her little hand in his, smiling. "Well, you can't sleep in here, princess. The narglits'll eat you up. Come on." He dashed for the door, pulling her with him.
Arthur shut the door quickly behind them. "Close one," he said, to which Isabel nodded fervently.
"Come on, now, Bell," he said, lifting her into his arms. "We've got to get to bed."
Isabel wrapped her arms around his neck and watched him. "What will you do about the narglits, Daddy?"
"I'll have to take care of them, I suppose. Kill them one by one, though, so they don't get suspicious."
"Oh, Daddy, will you use Excalibur? Can I watch? Oh, please?" she begged.
Arthur shook his head. "Too dangerous for a pretty girl like you. This is a job for the King."
Isabel huffed. "Oh, I wish I were a boy. I would be just as knight-y as you, Father! I would be the best that Camelot had ever seen! Better than you, I bet."
Arthur pushed the door open quietly and *shhh*ed her before shutting it carefully. He walked to the large bed and set Isabel down on it.
She crawled to the middle of the bed and laid down beside Guinevere, careful not to bump her. Esmeralda was sleeping soundly on Guinevere's chest, rising and falling with her breath.
Arthur climbed into the bed after he had sheathed Excalibur and rested it against the bed frame once more and pulled the blankets over him, facing the wall. He felt Isabel scoot closer to him.
"Goodnight, Arthur," she whispered.
Arthur felt her small fingers playing with his earlobe. "Goodnight, princess. Don't let the narglits bite."