For two months the King had been ruthless in his training of his young Knights. His anger and frustration over his broken heart was locked away and only released in his brutal strikes in training. The King had been coming extremely close to severely injuring some of his worthy Knights.
That chilly winters morning, it seemed to be the tall and mighty Percival who was receiving the full blows of the King's built up temper. Sir Percival was one of the loudest of the Knights. Of course, compared to Sir Gwaine's amplified mouth, Percival was comparable to that of a mouse. However, Percival had an awful habit of speaking at the wrong place at the wrong time. It had landed him in trouble before. Only four months into his Knighthood did Percival manage to accidently insult Audrey the head chef in the castle kitchens, resulting in receiving over boiled cabbage leaves inside of his newly polished boots every morning for a month.
SMASH, CLANG
"C'mon Elyan!" Coaxed Percival heartily, "You're fighting like a girl!" Percival swung his sword low, narrowly missing Elyan's knee cap.
"Oh I'm fighting like a girl am I?" Chuckled Elyan, efficiently ducking Percival's consistent blows. "I saw you last new moon with one of Audrey's new kitchen maids! I've seen lovers before, but you looked like you were suffocating her with your mouth!"
Percival blushed deeply before sniggering, "Ah my friend! I never thought of you as a peeper!"
Elyan forcibly blocked Percival's next swipe at his arm, "I am not!" He cried, landing on his backside onto the hard frosted ground. The sun had not yet risen fully, to claim the wintery frost covering the ground, so Elyan's fall was not a cushioned landing. He grunted in pain.
"Come my friend," Percival smiled, holding out his hand to his fellow night, "I have seen Guinevere, fight better than that of yourself this morning," Percival chuckled, but then quickly stopped himself.
All of the Knights had fallen silent, all exchanging vigorous eye contact and glancing sceptically at the King, who's face had now visibly paled.
All of a sudden, King Arthur's voice wrung loud and clear throughout the training ground.
"Why have we stopped training?" Arthur spoke coldly, making his way over to Percival and Elyan. He stood between the two Knights, arms folded, his face even. "Pick up your swords," He demanded.
Elyan and Percival exchanged hesitant glances.
"I said pick them up!" Arthur boomed. "Do you defy your king?" He shouted, eyes wild.
"Arthur," Came a small, but firm voice from behind the trio. "Please...They've done nothing!"
"Shut up Merlin," Arthur coldly dismissed his manservant.
"But Sire-" Merlin started.
"I said shut up Merlin!" Arthur roared at the lanky servant stood before him with pleading eyes. He began to walk to the centre of the training ground, eyeing each and every one of his Knights individually, glaring at them. "If any of you," The King started, thrusting his sword into the hardened ground. "If any of you dare to mention Guinevere's name, in training, around the castle, or at all for that matter," Arthur glared into Percival's dark blue eyes menacingly, "You will join her in exile forever,"
"Hey hold on a second here Princess," Spoke the brave Sir Gwaine, walking into the centre of the training ground towards his King, "Don't you think that's a little harsh considering-"
"Considering what exactly Sir Gwaine?" Snapped Arthur, rounding on the handsome Knight. "Do you defy your King, Gwaine?"
Sir Gwaine, startled by the coldness in the just King's eyes started, "I just think-"
"Then I suggest for starters, you address your King in the correct formality Sir Knight," Snapped Arthur.
Gwaine scoffed loudly, then took a low bow, "Of course," He drawled, "Your Highness,"
"Good," Arthur spoke loudly, addressing all of his Knights, "Now, re-group. Elyan with Leon, Vidor with Caridoc, Brennis with Cador, Geraint with Owain."
The Knights, bustled around the training ground, finding their new partners and began their single combat.
Percival arched his back, stretching, and headed over to Merlin, who was handing him a tankard of water, which he accepted gratefully, downing its contents. "Thanks Merlin," Muttered the Knight.
"S'alright," Smiled Merlin kindly. "Guess he's just... still upset,"
"Tell me about it," Groaned Percival, "Trainings becoming worse by the day." He sighed. "It's been two months since she left Merlin, we all feel so helpless. We don't know what to do,"
Merlin cocked his head to the side, looking at his King, who seemed to be angrily prodding at Sir Brennis' shoulder, "It's tough. The heart is fragile, "
"Yeah," Percival agreed, "Not easily mended by a tankard of mead and a goodnights rest I guess,"
Merlin sniggered, "Well, he's had quite a few tankards judging by the size of his-"
"Merlin!" Arthur shouted from across the training ground, "Why are you just standing there?! Make yourself useful for once and fetch the jousting sticks! You're about as useful as you are good looking Merlin!"
"Well," Chirped Merlin, "Have fun with that, Percival," He clapped Percival on the shoulder and made his way towards the jousting shed at light jog,
"Sire," Percival addressed the King politely, not wanting to upset him after his previous slip up about the Kings former lover.
"Defence!" Yelled the King, making a sudden swipe at Percival's waist line.
Percival quickly blocked the attack, and began what was likely to be an unpleasant, long, three hour training session with his angry King.
Later that evening
"It's getting ridiculous!" Exclaimed a disgruntled Sir Gwaine, who was pacing up and down Percival's bed chambers, "Look at the state of you Percival!" Gwaine eyed his muscular friend up and down.
Bruises and cuts showered Percival who was now hunched over on his bed grunting, while a weary Gaius dabbed various herbal ointments onto some of the slightly deeper cuts on Percival's exposed forearms.
"The King is upset," Gaius sighed, "All we can do is wait. Only time can heal wounds that as deep as Arthur's hearts,"
"Wise words Gaius," Said Percival quietly.
Gaius smiled at the Knight, "Indeed. But it's been a long day, and I suggest you some rest if you're to endure another day of this tomorrow,"
They all chuckled and retired eagerly to their chambers for slumber, each of the Knights almost dreading the next day of ruthless training.
The winter sun shone bright the next morning, piercing every dark shadow in the castle with it's warmth.
"Sire!" Shouted Merlin, who was sprinting down a brightly lit corridor after his King, "Arthur!" He skidded around the corner, and slipped, knocking both himself and the King to the floor.
"Merlin!" Exclaimed Arthur wildly, "What on earth are you doing you great buffoon! Get off me! You-You insolent little-"
"Ow! Arthur! If you'd just-" Merlin struggled, his legs were entwined with Arthur limbs and the two men both kicked at each other on the cobble stone floor.
"What are doing Merlin? Let go of me you stupid-"
"Agh!" Merlin pushed himself off of the floor and looked down at Arthur who was staring up at the ceiling panting heavily. "Sorry Sire, if you'd just have stopped when I called you and not been such a clot pole I-,"
"Clot pole?!" Arthur huffed. "May I remind you-"
"Yes, Yes you're the King of Camelot who is deemed to be treated with the utmost respect and dressed in a perfect formality,"
"Quite right,"
Merlin held out a helping hand to Arthur which was instantly swatted away. Arthur stood up, brushing off his chainmail and glaring at his manservant looking put out.
Merlin put up his hand before Arthur could say anything, "Nope, before you go off on a tangent, there's a woman demanding an audience with you in the throne room,"
Arthur's now reddened face began to return to it's normal colour, intrigued by his manservant's proclamation he began to ask questions. "Who is she?" He asked, turning around and walking back to the throne room. "Where is she from? What does she want?" He scratched his forehead.
Merlin had to jog to keep up with Arthurs fast pace. "She's says she's from Mercia." Merlin huffed, still out of breath from chasing his King half way around the castle.
"Mercia?" Arthur frowned. "Agravaine believes we should not trust Bayard, he believes he works with Odin to steal Camelot's wealth."
"This woman, she's not of nobility Arthur, she seeks your help," Merlin replied earnestly as he pushed the door to the throne room open.
In the centre of the room, a woman with coarsened dark chestnut hair and a pug nose, knelt before him. She was filthy.
Taking a seat on the throne, Arthur regarded the woman. She wore a pale soiled tunic similar to that of Guinevere's the night he had proposed and-
Arthur stopped his train of thought, not wanting to dwell on painful memories of his former love. He focused on the subject before him; "You sought out an audience with me?" He addressed the woman.
"M-My Lord," The woman's voice quavered. "I seek your help, I come in peace, my name is Ysmay," She began to sob. "M-My village i-it was attacked!"
Arthur rushed to her side, "It's alright, you're safe now," He comforted her softly, kneeling before her. "Whom of which Kingdom attacked your village ?"
Ysmay swallowed thickly, "None my Lord, outlaws. Slave traders, they've been roaming Mercia's boarders for months, they take people, sell them on, some are kept, tortured for information my-my" She gasped, sobbing into Arthur's shoulder.
"It's alright Ysmay, we're going to help you," Arthur reassured her.
"My Lord," Agravaine spoke up, "May I input an opinion of sort?" He shuffled forwards looking eyeing Arthur and Ysmay.
"Of course uncle," Arthur smiled, "Your council is always highly regarded in my court, you know that,"
"Yes, Sire I do of course," Agravaine smiled, "Of course the slave traders are a pressing issue on Mercia. But it is on Mercia they are the issue on, not Camelot, my Lord."
Arthur looked reluctant, "My father signed a peace treaty with Mercia not two years ago uncle, we-"
"Yes Arthur, your father did. Your father was a indeed a strong King, a good King, like yourself." Agravaine smiled slightly, "But that was two years ago Arthur, and you as a young and, if you don't mind me saying my Lord, a vulnerable King should not dwell on the troubles of an old tyrants kingdom, like Bayard's Sire,"
"My King is not a tyrant my lord," Ysmay spoke up defensively. "King Bayard is a good man,"
"Then perhaps you could have gone to him about the slave traders roaming your boarders?" Snapped Agravaine. "Instead of placing your burden unto Camelot!"
"Unlce! Please!" Exclaimed Arthur, "She's upset,"
"They took my daughter!" Ysmay cried, "My Alieda, she's all I have in the world," She began to sob into the kind King's chest, "Please, have mercy, I can't lose her,"
"Surely your daughter would have already been sold?" Agravaine questioned, looking sympathetically at the woman before him. "The Slave trade is a terrible business, one that in which eradication seems to be...futile,"
"No," Sir Gwaine stood forward, a stern expression washing across his face.
Agravaine nodded, giving Gwaine permission to speak. "Sir Knight?"
"There is a place, on the outskirts of Mercia, a no mans land if you like," Gwaine addressed Arthur, "In it lies a castle of sort,"
Agravaine frowned, rubbing his stubble, "Of sort?"
"It's a prison, my lord. It's where they take the new slaves," Gwaine said solemnly.
"And tell me, brave Sir Gwaine," Smirked Agravaine, "How would you know of such a place?"
Gwaine smiled at Agravaine, "I once knew a girl,"
"No surprise there," Muttered Arthur, helping Ysmay to her feet, who in return smiled gratefully.
"We were, well...We were romantically involved, courting if you like," Gwaine scratched his head, looking away from the others.
Arthur sighed, "Again, no surprise there,"
"She was taken as a slave," Gwaine stated.
Arthurs face dropped, "I-I am truly sorry my friend," He lay a hand on Gwaine's shoulder.
"S'alright Princess," Gwaine smirked before continuing, "I followed the traders, tried to rescue her...I was too late."
The Knights of the round table were truly shocked to hear the genuine sorrowed emotion in the usually so brave and cocky young Knight's voice.
"I saw what it was like in there, what they do to people. How they get them to...cooperate..." Gwaine paled. "Some they question their backgrounds, if of nobility they arrange ransoms if servants of Kingdoms they try to extract information. Some of the women, are forced into becoming mistresses, prostitutes, they're sold to brothels, nobleman and so on. The men, are usually shipped from Anglia to Ulaid. It's a disgusting trade. Inhuman," He finished solemnly.
"We must go there," Arthur spoke up, "Put a stop once and for all to this disgusting trade,"
"We cannot my Lord," Agravaine, intervened. "The Princess of Nemeth will be arriving in a matter of weeks,"
"We can postpone it!" Arthur spoke up.
"We cannot postpone it Arthur," Agravaine snapped, "My Lord, it will make you look indecisive, you could be conveyed across to the other Kingdoms as weak Sire. Besides, Mercia and Escetir will not grant you safe passage through their lands with armed men."
"Then I must go alone," Arthur stated.
Agravaine's nostrils flared wildly, "My Lord-"
"I'll go,"
Everyone's heads turned to look to Gwaine.
"I failed once before. I will not fail again. Please Sire," Gwaine turned to look at Arthur, "Your uncles right, you must stay here and you'll never get through Mercia and Escetir with the patrol. I can take a couple of men and go undercover. I have a duty to repay my lord,"
"You are most humble my friend," Arthur smiled and patted Gwaine's shoulder lightly. "But I fear, you cannot destroy the slave base with just a couple of men,"
"You're right Arthur," Agravaine nodded in agreement, "It would be near impossible, you are brave Sir Knight, there is no doubt your persistence would be futile,"
"I shall not be alone my Lord," Gwaine grinned, "For you forget I was not always a Knight. I travelled across many lands in my time, and I have strong connections in both Escatir and Mercia. Please Sire, I will not fail you,"
Arthur frowned for moment before nodding, "Very well. You ride at dawn." Arthur turned to Ysmay, "You are welcome to stay here in Camelot, I can offer you a place as a handmaiden, or in the Kitchens...Whatever your preference."
"Thank you my Lord," Ysmay smiled gratefully, "But if Sir Gwaine is successful, I should like to return home, be back in Mercia to greet my daughter,"
"Of course," Arthur smiled. "I wish you the best of luck Gwaine," Giving Gwaine a loose side hug, he dismissed the court.
"Gwaine!"
"Merlin?" Gwaine grinned at the King's manservant, jogging over towards him. "You alright there?"
"Let me come with you," Merlin pressed.
"Your place is with Arthur, Merlin. Besides, I'm glad to be rid of the Princess and his temper tantrums," He grinned.
Merlin chuckled but looked into Gwaine's eyes in all seriousness, "Look out for her Gwaine,"
Gwaine did not have to ask who Merlin meant. Merlin missed his friend. They all missed her. Guinevere had been gone two long months now and was missed dearly. Her sweet words of kindness and wisdom towards everyone, her soothing presence, her good sense of humour among the Knights were lacking in Camelot. She was thoroughly missed by them all, Arthur especially, although he would dismiss it.
"Always Merlin," Gwaine looked down to ground, "I just wish I could bring her home,"
"As long as she's safe," Merlin sighed sadly. He had no idea where his friend was. He missed her. He understood Arthur's punishment, but did not support it.
"He still loves her you know. It won't be the end for them, I know it won't," Gwaine smiled, he turned and waved at Ysmay who was walking towards the pair smiling as she mounted her horse.
"I know." Said Merlin quietly.
Gwaine mounted his horse and sat tall. He was dressed, not in his red cloak branding the Camelot crest, but in an old shirt and trousers, his boots worn, but polished. "Look after the Princess alright?"
"I always do," Merlin chucked.
Gwaine smirked before turning to his companions, two men from the Kings guard and Ysmay. "Ready?"
They nodded, and the small party galloped out of the gates of Camelot and headed into the dark forests.