Chapter One: Once and Future King

A/N: So...hey there. Just so you know, the pairings for this fic are Tristan (Wetstick)/OC and Arthur/OC. We only own Rowena, Vortimer and Kyra. Feel free to leave some feedback!

Queen Rowena was perfectly content before her husband arrived. It wasn't that she minded him seeing her, it was just that it felt it happened less and less frequently. She was playing with her son, three-year-old Prince Vortimer. He was the sweetest child she could ever have hoped for and as she reached down to pop him in her lap, he affectionately kissed her cheek. He made her smile and gave her reason to feel happy. However, she realised that there was someone watching them from the doorway.

Vortigern observed his wife and son from a distance. Although she could not blame him for being busy – what King wasn't? – it felt to her that he was not as interested in her of late. However she knew that Vortigern adored their son and so she drew the toddler's attention to him.

"Look who is it, my love."

"Papa." Vortimer's eyes widened with joy.

"Go on, go say hello." Rowena placed him on the ground, watching him toddle over, blonde curls bouncing. Everyone always said that the Prince favoured his mother with his golden features. She watched as Vortigern picked him up, getting to her feet.

"Mama is teaching me to read," Vortimer declared.

Vortigern smiled. "Very good."

"He is very clever," Rowena said. The Queen was always full of praise for her child. With Vortimer around, she never let any of her concerns show, keeping up a pleasant façade for the boy's benefit. She didn't want him upset and thinking his parents were displeased.

"He will make a fine leader one day." Vortigern kissed his cheek before setting him on the ground. Vortimer was not his only child – he had a daughter from his first marriage, Princess Catia. However as the boy was his heir and still so small, Vortigern showered the child with attention. Rowena did not think that fair on Catia, but it was not her place to say so.

"Have you come to see us?" she asked.

"Of course, I had some time spare." Vortigern regarded her. "How have you been, my wife?"

These days, Rowena relished any attention she got from her husband. Their marriage had never been the strongest – it had been a political match. She had been barely eighteen when she had married Vortigern, who had been twice her age at the time. She supposed the large age difference might contribute to any difficulties in their marriage. After all, she was only a handful of years older than Catia.

"Well." She clasped her hands. "I've been spending time with Catia and Vortimer mostly."

"How has that been?" he asked.

"Enjoyable," Rowena stated, a little uncertain what else she was meant to say. She and her husband had few things in common and even after six years of marriage, she found small talk to be rather awkward. "Vortimer is playful."

He nodded. "That is good to hear."

"Will you be joining us for dinner?" Rowena asked. Often she would dine with the Princess instead. When she'd first married the King, Rowena had been terrified that her friendship with Catia would disintegrate. The two women had been childhood playmates, and she fretted that her new status as stepmother would overshadow that. Yet Catia had taken Rowena's new position with grace and dignity, and their friendship had remained strong since.

"I will tonight." Vortigern nodded, making Rowena smile. These days he was so busy with the tower he was working on that she would not see him often. While she didn't mind him being occupied, she often felt lonely and neglected. Not that it was an unusual feeling in Rowena's life. Yet at least now, she had her son and Catia to spend her time with. It was better than no one.

Kyra raked a hand through her hair as she removed the hood from the top of her head. She glanced around the small brothel, wrinkling her nose at the mixture of scents that filled her nostrils. It was a sickly sweet smell and she didn't quite know if she liked it or not. She wandered over to one of the girls, getting a drink from her as she looked around the place. It had been just over a month since her last visit, and she had only a small amount of information for the time she had been away.

She shifted through the crowds of people as she recognised her blonde friend, making her way over to him. "Arthur."

Arthur turned around to face her, grinning down at her. "How have you been?"

"Well, and yourself?" She raised an eyebrow, sipping her ale.

"Fairly well." He nodded as he placed a hand on the small of her back, steering her away from the centre of the brothel. "What brings you here?"

She rolled her eyes at the question. "Information, as usual."

Arthur leant against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yes?"

"There have been Viking ships spotted off the coast." She informed him as she leant against a table parallel to him.

"How many?" Arthur raked a hand through his hair. They both knew that Vikings were known for causing trouble, and it was something they rather liked to avoid.

"Three." She told him, finishing her drink. "They're a few days away."

Arthur nodded. "I'll let the others know."

"Do you mind if I rest here tonight?" Kyra knew it wouldn't be a problem, but she couldn't help the formality of it all. Sometimes her and Arthur acted like the friends they were, and other times they acted like they only knew each other through business.

"No, that's fine." He smiled down at her as he ruffled her hair, her hand flying up to catch his wrist, twisting it. He stepped back, holding his hands up, but the grin was still plastered to his face. "Easy there."

"Don't touch my hair." She reminded him as she brushed past, kissing his cheek as she did.

Rowena sat cross-legged on the bed in her white nightgown, braiding back her blonde hair. She didn't know why she was nervous about spending time alone with her husband. Perhaps it was because she actually wanted to talk with him, and worried he wouldn't take her seriously. Throughout their marriage, her purpose was clear, and providing opinions and commentary was not part of that purpose. When Vortigern strode into the room, she offered him a slight smile.

"Vortigern. How is the tower coming along?"

"Well enough." He sat down on the bed, taking off his boots. His abrupt answer disappointed her, making her frown slightly.

"Did you not wish to discuss it?"

"No." His reply was blunt. She knew better than to get upset over it. What did a pretty little airhead like her know about the tower? They all thought she didn't have an opinion on anything. She tried not to, knowing that her husband and her father preferred it when she didn't speak her mind. Heaving a sigh, Rowena curled on her side, glancing over her shoulder at Vortigern.

"Are you not coming to bed?"

"I will." Vortigern sprawled back on the bed. "You seem upset."

"No, I just didn't think you wanted to talk," Rowena said. She had learned how to behave over her six years as Queen. She did not question her husband. His word and his desires were the only things that mattered. Her own wants and needs took a back seat, if they even mattered at all.

"Not about business."

"We don't have to talk." Rowena sat up, watching him carefully. His eyes raked over her and she knew precisely what he wanted. It shouldn't have surprised her – it was what he always wanted from her. The ladies of the court said it was understandable, that a middle-aged King should often desire his pretty young wife.

"What would you like to do?" he asked.

Rowena responded by kissing him. The only power she ever held over Vortigern was sexual power. She could not think of a time when she had initiated that he hadn't felt like sex, and usually he was the one who initiated such things in any case. Despite the fact that he was often busy, they did have a very active sex life. He slid his arms around her waist, groaning as her lips trailed down his neck. Rowena crawled on top of him, straddling his lap before reaching up to unlace her nightgown.

Vortigern examined her with a lustful gleam in his eyes as she shrugged her nightgown down to her waist. Rowena reached down to undo his pants, feeling his erection pressed against her. Vortigern flipped them so that she was on her back beneath him. He shoved her nightgown up around her waist before he pushed her legs apart and slid into her. The blonde instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, while his fingers slipped down to grip her hips.

Rowena arched her back as he kissed her neck, gripping his shoulders as he started to thrust. She moaned as his hands roamed her body, bucking her hips against him. No matter the others aspect of their relationship, she usually found sex with her husband to be very pleasurable. Her head fell back against the pillow as Vortigern pumped into her harder. His deep thrusts coaxed louder moans from her. He groaned as she ran her hands down his back, causing Rowena to smirk.

Vortigern's thrusts became faster and the familiar intense heat of an impending climax washed over Rowena. Her moans escalated into cries of pleasure, legs tightening around him. Her entire body shuddered and Vortigern followed after a few hard thrusts, grunting loudly as he finished inside her. Rowena panted, running her fingers through her tangled blonde hair as her husband rolled off her. She fixed her nightgown, tugging it down from her waist and back up over her breasts.

Rowena rolled onto her side and Vortigern put an arm around her waist. For a few moments, there was peaceful silence. Sometimes, Rowena wondered if her husband was only pleased with her after he'd had sex with her. She let him keep his arm around her, grateful for the physical contact while it lasted.

"Are you leaving again tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

"I have to," he responded curtly.

Rowena resisted the urge to sigh, knowing that it would annoy him. Although her husband satisfied her in bed, there were other ways in their relationship in which she was deeply unsatisfied. The only problem was, there was little she could do about it. He was the King and although she was the Queen, she'd only achieved that title through marrying him. She was little more than a trinket, an object of value. The thought made her feel incredibly lost and sad. She knew her husband didn't love her or care for her in the way she wanted him to, and that he likely never would. Yet it didn't stop it from hurting.

"Didn't take you for much of a drinker, Kyra." Arthur grinned as he watched his female friend refill her glass for the second time that night.

Kyra raised an eyebrow at him, leaning back in her seat and kicking her feet up on the table. She was enjoying being in a comfortable and familiar place with people she trusted. "Does it matter?"

"She can hold her drink better than you." Backlack commented, earning a scoff from Arthur.

"Hardly." He argued before gesturing over to her. "Look at the size of her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyra flared up, not appreciating how he was speaking about her. It was true she was small, standing just over five feet

"You're tiny. You can't outdrink someone my size." Arthur smirked at her, leaning forward to fill his cup again.

"Perhaps not, but I could beat you in a fight." She winked at him, finishing her drink and placing her cup on the table.

Tristan, often nicknamed Wetstick, grinned at that, glancing between the two. "I'd love to see that."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, genuinely curious at the thought. "What sort of fight?"

"No weapons, just fists. I'm a lot faster than you." She boasted, getting to her feet.

"Alright. Done. What does the winner get? And how do we decide who's the winner?" Arthur questioned as he finished his own drink, getting to his feet as well.

Kyra thought on it for a moment, tapping her chin. "Whatever you want. Name your prize."

"Whoever can't walk first, I think." Tristan chuckled, and they both glanced at him, knowing the double meaning to his comment.

"Five gold coins." Arthur told her, looking down at her.

Kyra nodded in agreement before gesturing towards the door. "I suggest we do this outside."

"Right." He nodded as he followed her outside, the other two men following as well, keen for the show they were about to witness.

Kyra tugged her coat off, rolling her shoulders and standing across from him. "Ladies first."

"Then no one would ever go." He smirked, catching her arms as she launched at him.

Arthur used his strength to spin her around, throwing her off balance momentarily before she twisted, kicking him in the stomach and flipping out of his grip. She didn't have the strength to beat him, but her years of gathering information meant she was an excellent and fast climber. He staggered back, allowing her to kick his legs from under him, but not before he grabbed her around the waist, tugging her down with him.

As they both hit the ground, Kyra twisted away, rolling a few centimetres before he dragged her back. He was met with an elbow to the face as she clambered to her feet, breathing heavily. Arthur rolled to his own feet before lunging at him again and clambering onto his back. He flopped back on the ground, coughing and playing dead as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She struggled beneath him for a moment before driving her heel between his legs. Pain shot through him and he shifted slightly, allowing her the leverage she needed to push him off of her.

"Shall we call it even?" She questioned as they both laid on the ground, breathing heavily.

"Sounds fair." Arthur chuckled, glancing at her. "Another drink?"

"Of course." She winked at him. "You're paying."

"Really? Why's that?" He asked as he got to his feet, pulling her to hers.

Kyra rested a hand on his chest as she was pulled close to him, using his body to balance herself. "Because the man always buys the lady a drink."

"I don't see a lady." He grinned down at her, earning himself a punch in the arm.

"Ass."

The Earl of Mercia was, like the King, a busy man. However he was usually able to make time for the Queen. Rowena entered his chambers with her son balanced on her hip, watching as the man read over a letter. She always dressed extravagantly when she visited Mercia, determined to remind him of her social status. He placed it down on his desk before turning to face her.

"Hello, daughter."

"I need to talk to you," she insisted.

Mercia arched an eyebrow. "About?"

"My husband." Rowena bit her lip. She didn't like bringing these matters to her father, however she did need advice. "I rarely see him. He has little interest in speaking to me."

He sighed heavily. "He is busy."

"I know, but I am still his wife," she said, as if her father could have forgotten. He had been the one who had pushed for the marriage in the first place, who had seen to it that they were betrothed when Rowena had been only sixteen. "He does not make me happy lately, Father."

"It is not his job to make you happy," Mercia responded dismissively, causing Rowena to avert her eyes. Despite the fact that she was the Queen and he was technically her inferior, Mercia still had ways of making her feel like a scolded child. "It is your job to please him."

"I try, Father." It was all Rowena had ever done. She tried. She had tried to make her father proud of her, to view her as anything more than just a means to further his ambitions. Now she tried to get her husband to care about her. "What can I do to keep his interest? I fear he will tire of me."

"Give him another son," Mercia stated, as if it were that simple.

"We are doing our best to conceive, but he is not around as often." Initially, these conversations had made Rowena squirm with embarrassment, mortified at discussing her sex life with her father. However over time it had become apparent that as the Queen, she had little privacy in her affairs. People wanted to know if they should expect children. She had not fallen pregnant since she'd had Vortimer. The child in question was playing with his mother's hair, very quiet.

"Do I disappoint you, Father?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he admitted.

"Why?" Her brow furrowed into a frown. "I married him as you bid me. I have given him a healthy son. You were thrilled when Vortimer was born."

Mercia turned his attention on his grandson. "He will grow to be a strong man."

"Like Papa," Vortimer chimed in.

"Correct." Mercia grinned and ruffled the boy's hair. He was more affectionate toward Vortimer than he'd ever been with Rowena. Not that it surprised her. She was a girl, a disappointment. Mercia had been deprived of an heir after he'd lost his wife. Rowena had been deprived of a mother, and the one person who had actually loved her.

Rowena put Vortimer down. "You should be more proud of my achievements. I have had a son, which is more than you could manage."

"Yet your husband does not care for you," Mercia reminded her, an intentionally cruel barb designed to silence Rowena. Once it may have worked, but although she knew her place, she was not a timid little girl anymore.

"I'm no fool. I didn't think this marriage was for love. I always knew what it was."

"Yet you still complain about it," Mercia snapped at her.

Angry and frustrated, Rowena did something she never would have if she'd been thinking rationally – she slapped him across the face. She had never raised a hand to her father before, although he had to her on occasion. Mercia gripped her wrist hard, making her wince. Yet she remained defiant, knowing he had no power over her.

"You should take care in how you speak to your Queen," she said coldly.

Mercia scoffed. "You are also my daughter."

"I am, but you placed me higher in station than you when you had me marry Vortigern," she reminded him. "Be careful who you choose to insult."

Mercia looked like there were plenty of things that he wanted to say to her. Perhaps he even wanted to strike her, as he'd done when she'd disobeyed him as a child. Yet since she'd married Vortigern, he had no power over the things she said and did, and they were both well aware of it.

"You should return to your duties," he said coolly.

"Come, Vortimer." Rowena reached out to take her son's little hand and lead him from the room. He was the one thing that made her often lonely marriage bearable. Since her mother's death, Vortimer was the first person she had loved who cared for her in return. Although he was still too small to show it properly, it was obvious that the child cared for his mother. Vortigern valued his son and heir, but Rowena loved him because he was her little one. Whatever else she may be, she was a kind and loving mother.

Kyra caught the sight of Arthur's bloody face from the corner of her eye. She had been having a rather nice conversation with one of the girls before she realised her friend was bleeding. She excused herself from the conversation before making her way over to him, gripping his face. "What did you do?""

"Dealt with a problem. Why?" Arthur questioned her, not bothering to stop her from examining his face.

"You're bleeding." She scowled as she led him upstairs and sat him down, grabbing a bowl of water and none too gently cleaning the blood from his face as he sighed heavily, wincing every now and then.

Tristan stood in the doorway, leaning against it as he watched his two friends. "We went and taught the Vikings a lesson."

"They listened." Arthur grinned, seemingly pleased with himself. Kyra continued to fuss over him, ignoring the smug look on his face. "I'm fine."

"You're stupid." She countered as she put the cloth down, washing her hands. "And reckless."

"Oh, I am very reckless." Arthur agreed with that, watching as she cleaned up the bloody cloth.

Kyra glanced over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes. "You cannot protect them from the grave."

"I could always try." He pointed out, glancing at Tristan as he excused himself with the excuse of wanting food. "You're fussing over me, you know."

"Am I not allowed to?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest as he got to his feet.

Arthur grinned down at her, enjoying stirring her up a little more than he should have. "Of course you are. I just didn't think you'd be concerned."

Kyra shrugged, looking up at him. There wasn't a huge difference in height between them, but it was big enough that she had to look up at him when he was standing so close. "Well, we have been friends a while.'

"That is true." He admitted, raising his eyebrows as she examined the cut on his lip. "You're staring."

"You're nice to stare at." She retorted. They knew each other well enough to be completely comfortable with how they spoke to each other, but Kyra couldn't help but feel her face grow warm as she realised exactly what she had said.

"As are you." He winked down at her, sliding an arm around her waist as she stood on the tip of her toes, kissing him.

He eagerly returned the kiss, bending slightly so it was easier for her to deepen it, her arms sliding around his neck and her fingers threading through her hair. It wasn't the first time they had shared a moment like this, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. She pressed closer against him, her hands running down his chest as his ran up her sides. It had always amused him that they could go from a perfectly normal friendship, to having sex because they had both grown frustrated.

"Tease." He groaned against her lips as he felt her cool fingers dance across the skin of his chest.

"I'm sure you hate it." She grinned against his lips before drawing back.

Arthur rolled his eyes, faking disgust. "Oh, it's awful."

"I have information to gather.' She told him as she pulled away from him, her fingers lingering on his arm for a moment as she did. "Perhaps I will see you later tonight when I return.'