I CAN'T FIND MY PANTS!!!

"Guinevere!!!"

Arthur's bellow resounded  throughout the hall and bounced off walls into the courtyard. Squires looked up, startled, but were again distracted when the horses they were attending reared in fright.

Arthur did it again, sounding for all the world like a wounded bull.

Guinevere rushed up the stairs and down the hall to her husband's room, her flaxen hair flying behind her. "Arthur?! Arthur, what is it?" she cried as she flung open the door to their room.

Arthur was hobbling around the room, a blanket wrapped around his legs.

"Guinevere," he said, relieved, but then tripped over his blanket and fell flat in his face.

"Oh, darling, are you alright?" Guinevere  asked,  worrying about him like a nurse, flapping her hands frantically as though she had no idea what to do with them. 

Arthur quite abruptly lifted his head, then jumped up onto his feet.

"Some…Some… some ROGUE stole into my room last night and STOLE MY PANTS!"

"What?"

"I CAN'T FIND MY PANTS!!!" Arthur, having quite flown into a passion by now, grew a little overexcited, and tripped again. But this time, there was an audible 'CRUNCH' when his nose connected with the floor.

"What's happened? Are you in danger?" Launcelot shouted, skidding to a halt in the doorway. "Oh," he said, upon seeing the king, in his pyjamas, on the floor, with a purpled nose that was slowly swelling to the size of a melon(figuratively, not literally).

Guinevere looked at Launcelot. Launcelot looked at Guinevere. These were looks that put molasses to shame, they were so ooey-gooey.

"Um, a little help here?" Arthur whined from the floor.

"Eh? Oh," said Launcelot, returning from his reverie. "We'll send a search party to retrieve your pants."

This seemed to revive Arthur.

"A quest!!!" he shouted.

This seemed to wake Guinevere from her trance.

"Oh. Your pants are--"

"Yes, yes," Arthur cut her off impatiently. "Lost and I must get them back. I shall be back before dinner. Let us  go, Launcelot!" He shouted, dragging said knight by the hand and out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"My men," said Arthur, addressing his usual entourage of 20 or so knights. They had gathered in the courtyard, on their mounts, facing Arthur. "We leave now… On a quest. We will share a common mission, a common goal… We must recover my pants! Are you with me?"

The knights all roared in response, pumping the air with their fists.

"Then let us ride!!!"

That was all they needed. They all kicked their steeds into a gallop, making enough noise with the combined shouts of men and whinnies of horses to wake the dead.

Meanwhile, Arthur, King of all Britannia , was displaying his royal self in his nightgown to all and sundry.

The peasants they passed all bowed respectfully before their king, and all the while were wondering what could possibly be so important that the king would not bother to get dressed before seeing to it?

After some time of wandering aimlessly in the woods, they came upon  a cave. Only…

"Um, Launcelot?" Arthur hissed under his breath as they approached.

"Yes?" Launcelot hissed back.

"Do all caves have eyes? And—" he squinted "Claws and four legs and scales and a long neck and a mouth spouting fire?"

"DRAGON!!!" Launcelot shouted to the knights behind him. "WITHDRAW!!!"

But it was too late. The dragon had seen them, and flapped its gargantuan wings and landed with a thump in front of Arthur and his men, cutting off their escape route.

At once, Arthur drew Excalibur, and the other knights followed suit.

"Remember, men," he shouted "If you die, you die with honor!" Unfortunately, the only sound he got back was the clanking of armor and mail, because all of his men were quaking in fear.

The clearing was filled with a sound like jangling bells. Everyone looked around, and saw the dragon shaking; laughing.

"You think I mean to kill you?" The dragon's voice was soft and mellow, and had a metallic edge to it. When no-one answered, her bells jangled again.

"Well, you're probably right. If you are King Arthur, that is." She, the dragon, stared shrewdly at Arthur with one large, wine-red eye, her pupil alternately contracting and dilating as she focused on him.

Arthur had to swallow a few times before he squeaked: "I am."

The dragon, seemingly satisfied with this information, sat back on her haunches and languidly scratched the scales on her belly. "I am the dragon Maharet. Tell me where you are going and what you are doing." It wasn't a request.

"W-We are on a quest…" Launcelot stuttered, but Maharet cut him off. "I can see, that, you fool. Do not make me angry, or we'll see if you don't taste as good as you look." She shot a tiny spurt of flames at the feet of Launcelot's horse, and it reared, throwing him off. The horse then made a run for it, but was fried on the spot by Maharet.

"_Extra_ crispy!" she said, with undisguised glee. She coughed as though to clear her throat, and puffs of smoke rose around her face.

"Now," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "I know what you are looking for, and I know where you can find it. But—" she raised one claw  to cut off Arthur, as he opened his mouth to speak. "I was promised a return favor. A few minutes ago, a cloaked and hooded figure passed my way. She was carrying a load of pants,"

"Tell me which way she went!" Arthur cried suddenly, brandishing Excalibur once more.

Maharet's body gave a twitch, and she lowered her head down to the level of King Arthur's.

"You," she said, her voice low and silky "Are in no position to be asking questions. I will have your silence."

The undisguised threat hung in the air. "Proceed," Arthur said meekly. Maharet bared her mouthful of fangs in what the knights supposed was a smile. This smile would have sent them running to their mommies. But for now, they were rooted to their mounts in terror.

"She was carrying a load of pants, running as though Cerberus were upon her heels," Maharet continued as though nothing had happened "and, naturally, I stopped her. Because no-one may walk on my territory unless they are out  looking for death. But the pants intrigued me, so I asked her where she was off to. She would not tell me, which made me very angry. She must have seen this, for she offered to make a bargain with me. If I would let her pass, she told me that someone would be riding through here in a few minutes. She said their leader, King Arthur, would give me 2 of his men in exchange for safe passage. So," she concluded gleefully, "I want my two men that were promised me."

"You shan't have them!" Arthur shouted. Maharet simply blew a cloud of smoke in his face. "Pfuit. Of course I will. Or you will all be burned. I am showing you mercy, my king. A lesser man would be dead by now. You have a choice: 2 or all of your men."

Before Arthur could respond, 2 knights( who will remain anonymous for the author's lack of imagination and inability to come up with names) came forward and offered to be the sacrifice, if it only meant that the king would succeed in his quest. Arthur clapped them both on the shoulders and, with tears in his eyes, told them that they would both receive honours once he was back at Camelot, and how proud he was to have had such brave knights in his company.

" That which you seek lies; where all of Britannia owes its ties; Its leader is an ideal towards which all knights strive; The castle over which has the dragons five…" this Maharet told them gladly after the two knights were left in her 'care'.

As Arthur and the remaining 18 knights rode away, Arthur leaned over and said to Launcelot( who has mysteriously acquired another horse…),

"You know what? I don't know who those two knights were, but boy did they have guts."

After some time, they stopped in front of a castle that looked oddly familiar…

"Launcelot?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Whose castle is this?"

Launcelot turned to look at him. "'Tis your castle, my lord."

"Oh. I knew that. Then," he said, a rage slowly clouding his eyes. "That  rogue must be fulfilling that saying 'a thief always returns to the scene of the crime'. Let us catch her in the act! RIDE!"

They rode into the courtyard, quickly dismounted, and rushed up the first hallway they saw. Up a flight of stairs, and burst into Arthur's room.

Guinevere was sitting calmly by the window, embroidering a slipcover. Arthur's pants were on the bed.

Arthur's openmouthed gaze shifted from his wife, to the pants and back.

"Oh, Arthur," Guinevere said, not looking up from her embroidery "If you had only listened, I could've told you that I had sent you pants out to be laundered."

Silence.

"YOU WHAT?!?"

Finis.