Author Notes: I dont really like long chapters. I think they can drag so sorry to those who dont like that kinda thing. But i hope you enjoy.
London Docks
It had been long since his majesty looked upon England's shore. As he stood upon deck, staring at the gathered crowds in ore he remembered a small memory. It is unclear of whom but the words spoken as clear as day. "Forgiveness is in the rain". At that moment the first drop of rain hit the king's head and his majesty knew that he could return home.
Chapter 1
The long walk to the nobles awaiting him allowed Arthur to take note of faces in an attempt to recall them all. Only two were clear to him. The first his younger brother, Henry, now the Arch Bishop of Canterbury. The thought of it amused the king as he always knew that Henry disliked the idea of him entering the Church. Although a faithful young man he never seemed to be suited to the profession and now that same young man was Arch Bishop, perhaps the youngest England had ever seen, officially only seconded by the Pope himself in England's Church. The second face was one that Arthur had longed to see, his wife Katharine, his Guinevere. Whom he had missed sorely and for whom he had been so tempted to return home for so many times before.
As the faces drew nearer the urgency of the moment seemed ever more daunting to the king. As he finally reached the entourage time seemed to return to normal in the king's mind. All before him bowed and curtsied. Queen Katharine was first to rise and greet the king.
"Your Majesty. I most heartily rejoice at your return and pray for your good health. Please majesty let me show our dear children as they have changed so much since you have last seen them."
The Queen pointed to line of seven children. The first a boy, tall, light hair and had his mothers piercing blue eyes.
"This is your majesties son, Henry Prince of Wales."
"My son, you look well, how old are you now?"
"Seventeen father".
At that moment it hit him, Arthur had been gone for over six and half years and had missed everything. He looked down to line to see all his children. Edward Duke of York his second, Princes Margret his first daughter then the twins Mary and Richard and finally the last. A small boy one that Arthur knew he had never met, his son Peter only just six years. The king walked over to the boy simply smiled and said,
"Hello ... I, I ..." whilst kneeling to the boy's level.
"You are my father ...?" a whisper from the boy's lips.
"Yes" a shameful reply but hopeful that the boy somehow knew him.
Arthur noted that all his children were of good looks and seemed to be of healthy dispersions. After these quick examinations the king looked up to his wife and the glaring crowds and quickly returned to his feet. As he did so he recalled that it was raining that he had quite forgotten.
"Well wife, I suppose we should go. I would not want to be the cause of all of London to catch ill on my return"
"Yes your majesty, quickly children to the coaches".
White Hall Palace
It seemed strange to be back in England. Everything was moving so quickly, the king had only been at the palace for a few hours but already the masses clambered for an audience. Unsure of what to do the king sent for his wife and brother. As they both entered the king's chambers an unstoppable smile broke across Arthur's face.
"Wife, brother. I cannot tell how good it is to be in your presents once again. I have missed you both immeasurably." The king swooped to them both to greet them. Both the Queen and the Arch Bishop perplexed by the reaction to them both. Although loving Arthur had never been an outwardly emotional man, at least not in this manner.
"Majesty. I trust that you are well?" Henry cooed.
"Yes Brother. A little overwhelmed I must say. I have become accustomed to much different style of ... conducting one's self whilst I have been away. I have become unfamiliar with court life." At that moment Arthur realised that Katharine had barely spoken to him since his return.
"Katharine, my Queen. What is wrong? You haven't spoken to me since the first moment I saw you. I Know I have been gone far too long, but I cannot bare it if you are to be angry with me ..." intently staring into her ocean blue eyes Arthur searched for a glimmer of hope that she could still love him. Their marriage had always beaten the odds. Although an arranged marriage they became a love match and dreamed of creating Camelot, a new age of marvel in England.
"I could never be angry with you, husband. You have returned the Holy Land to Christendom. You are truly the anointed of God. I have only been so quite as I... don't know if I truly believe that you have return us ... to me." The king flew over to his wife at that very moment cupping her face in his hands.
"Oh my love. I am here. I am never leaving again I died every day I could not be here with you." The Arch Bishop swiftly left the room.
Three days later.
The days had gone by swiftly. The king had made it clear that he wished to re-familiarise himself with life in England before taking the reins of government. Life seemed to never stop at court and the rest of the country. Celebrations never ending as tokens and troops of the Holy Land returned. The king seemed to be most pleased as his personal guard returned. Comprised of some of the highest ranking men in the king's army these men had become his closest advisors and friends. A luxury ill afforded during war as their small number could testify, only four of them, Charles of Bedford, Walter Viscount of Hereford, John Baron of Pontefract and William Earl of Devon. The king had ordered them to return to their families and when they were suitably rested and then return to become members of the Privy Council.
The king however, was far more interested in adventures of his family during his absence. His sons regaled him with tales of the bravery of Prince Henry, the cunning of Edward, the athleticism of Prince Richard and the chivalry of Peter even though he was only six. The girls Margret and Mary told their father of their lesson and all that they had learnt to become obedient loving wives and mothers. However, Mary had also told him of her love for music and her talent for the flute, her pride beaming from her eyes wishing that the king would ask her to play. Which he naturally did.
It seemed that the king could not spend enough time with his family. Since his return only a few days earlier he had spent every possible moment with them. The king quietly nursed the feeling that he missed his children's lives. He especially regretted missing the lives of Margret and Mary. Margret was already fourteen and of marring age. Her marriage could not be put off for much longer and she would have to leave England to live with her husband. Mary was nine about to turn ten so he had a few more years with her. It seemed strange somehow for him to feel like this. Royal parents rarely spent large amounts of time with their children but still the king felt guilty.
Time with his family was so precious to the king perhaps because for the past six and a half years he had voluntarily removed himself from them in the vain pursuit of glory. In the wake of this realisation great victory seemed hollow and unworthy of celebration in the king's mind if not in anyone else's.