~oOo~
After parting from Morgan, the men of the camp and the last offerings of rare spices, silks, and jewels, Frik proceeded to slowly filter past the glowing tents of the valley, his cape billowing out behind him. Mirth was behind his eyes. His golden hair alight.
Lit by the flames of candles, the tents shone out as though great lanterns with their vibrant red, dark gray, and orange canvases. Their cores of fire were from a distance the same as a multitude of scattered hearths.
Entering one of the shelters, Frik found an unclaimed bed in a corner and settled into it, feeling drowsy in the newfound warmth. The majority of his evening had been spent under the cool dark sky speaking with soldiers. Men who, hours earlier, had feared that this day might be their last. In their elation they had shared with Frik stories of their previous battles. In their tales they exhibited selflessness, bravery and honor; traits mostly unknown to the often cowardly gnome. Despite his worldliness, his inhuman abilities, their candor made him faintly yearn to follow in their footsteps. To in some way know what the men, for all their valor, could only barely articulate. Embers of their conversations continued to stir in him, floating as cinders and ash to his belly.
Soon the morning would be here with Morgan ready to leave. Arthur, this night, would be a memory. With that agreeable thought, he arranged himself more comfortably in his bed. The swaying flames of torches left stains on his field of vision, green-blue shadows. Outside, the fading voices of wandering soldiers mixed with the soft murmurs of insects.
He thought of Queen Mab, how she would be pleased that things seemed to be going her way for once. It was a comfort to know there would be no rational reason for Her Majesty to punish him upon his return to her Palace.
There was a sudden shift with the wind as, with his thought, Queen Mab eased into full being inches from his reclined form. The gnome hurriedly rose as the flashes of accompanying light faded around his mistress.
"All is as planned," she announced. Queen Mab removed a goblet of water from a table, overturning it and pouring its contents into thin air. The liquid magically became solid. She took into her hand the disc-shaped mirror she'd created and passed it to Frik, who cupped it in both palms. "As you can see, Arthur required no persuasion."
Morgan and Arthur were shown to him, their bodies lit by the candlelight of their tent. He could hear Morgan's voice and see her face with clarity. She did not seem uncomfortable with the role she was being made to perform. The image faded, leaving him unsettled.
"She's very convincing, isn't she?" Mab observed, as if again sensing his thoughts. She, on a whim, suddenly transported them both to Pendragon Castle's throne room. The area was vacant of life, and Mab began to sprint from the middle of the room to the King's throne in triumph. Frik joined her, not for the desire to do so but the necessity. He was distraught, and as their frantic dance began to slow, he took a seat on the edge of the throne platform. Mab stepped on his hand as she passed, but he remained in place, staring straight ahead in thought. Mab, obliviously lost in her joy, brought them back to Arthur's camp.
"Keep guard for tonight. Make certain they're not interrupted. Both of you should wait until just before dawn to leave. I'll be watching." Her eyelids fluttered as she turned her head to one side, drawing power from the stones affixed to her gown as she returned to The Land of Magic. In an instant lightning bleached the tent, highlighting the coal dust that fell to the ground with her departure.
Frik knew Arthur's seduction had been their mission. It was an objective they couldn't fail. But deep down, in his heart of hearts, he wished he had never had a hand in helping make it happen. Jealously had awoken within him, erupted in the streams of his blood.
He hadn't known Morgan for any great length but what time he had known her was so unlike any other he had experienced in his long lifetime. He couldn't name the feeling, but it was not one from which he wished to part. Nor did he want it to mean as little to Morgan as this night, her time with Arthur.
Seeing her, he realized that now was a turning point in his life. Jealousy was not the only emotion awoken, though the others stirred he dare not name.
~oOo~
Before dawn the next morning, when Morgan emerged from the tent without Arthur in her company, Frik was quick to come to her side. "Ah, Lady Marie, good morning. Do you wish to have the horses made ready for our departure?"
"I believe it would be best to leave eawly. We have anothew long jowney ahead of us," Morgan said, keeping up her act for anyone who might be listening. "I've aweady let the king know my sentiments."
Frik leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "And, you know, I do believe you already have a certain glow about you."
"Yes, well," Morgan started, her tone cold as she lowered her eyes. She did not look forward to the pregnancy she'd have to endure, no matter how short it's duration. As a child she'd heard her mother's screams as she'd given birth to Arthur. The pain Lady Igraine had been made to suffer was never forgotten. A warning given to her in childhood as she played with dolls. Frik had distracted her then and so did he now.
They walked in silence toward the area where their horses were tethered. When they arrived at the shaded enclosure, they found the horses already saddled and ready for their departure. After giving their farewells and excuses to the inquisitive members of the king's army, the pair was within minutes riding at a fair pace away from the encampment. Out in the open, they began to feel more at ease and spoke freely.
"I didn't think it would be so easy. Awthuw suspected nothing because I'm a woman."
"Yes, well, he is his father's son."
Morgan gave a derisive scoff as she looked over the land. "I'm to go back to Tintagel now, to wait?"
"I'm afraid that's all we can do. Madame, however, will endeavor to hasten things along."
That didn't seem to satisfy Morgan. She'd already wasted so much of her life. Now she had to wait several more years before she could rightfully take the throne.
Frustrated, she took hold of the reins of her horse and motioned for it to run ahead, over the green fields. It helped her to ride precariously. Being with child, she soon wouldn't be able to live so dangerously.
She couldn't let her emotions get the best of her. Morgan would wait; gain the needed patience. Queen Mab would help give her everything she desired. With that thought, she resolved to rise above her former self.
When Frik caught up with her she turned to face him. "Shall we wetuwn then?"
"Madame will want a full report. I'm afraid I won't be able to stay."
"Not even a little while?"
"Well, perhaps... but only for an hour or two."
Once Frik determined they were a safe distance from the camp, he snapped his fingers and the pair vanished.
~oOo~