Wynne had just finished gathering herbs and mosses for Gaius and was headed back to the castle, feeling rather pleased with herself. This was the first time she'd been trusted to complete this errand without Merlin by her side, and she had collected all the plants Gaius needed in less than an hour without even having to look at the descriptions he'd sent along. Still, as she strolled through the woods, she found herself wishing Merlin was with her; he was proving to be a close friend and confidante. He seemed to understand her distaste for the lessons in finery that she was forced to endure. Indeed, at times when the young king was treating Merlin like a clotpole (which, admittedly, was most of the time), she saw a faraway look in his eyes as though he too wished he were elsewhere. Today, however, Merlin had had other business to attend to, so Gaius had sent her out by herself. As she looked into the basket, Wynne smiled to herself, thinking that she might be a failure with a needle and thread and unbearably clumsy on her feet during dance lessons, but when it came to identifying plants and herbs and knowing when to use them, Wynne was far ahead of the other girls. She smiled again as she recalled the reason she had been sent out on an errand for Gaius in the first place—she had once again displeased Lady Magdalen by making a tangled mess of her needlework. Going into the forest to collect herbs was a distasteful punishment for the other girls, but not for Wynne, and she hoped Lady Magdalen never figured out that these errands were more prize than punishment, and that she sometimes deliberately did something wrong so she would be sent to Gaius, or even to Berte in the kitchens.
Because she had completed her task so quickly, Wynne idled about in the forest, preferring the squawking birds and rustling of small animals to the incessant chatter of the other girls about their dresses, their jewels and which knight or squire they fancied this week. She sighed, thinking how unlike the other girls she was. She couldn't care less about having another gown of silk and satin or necklaces of precious stones, nor was she particular about how she wore her hair; a simple braid to keep her unruly brown curls out of her eyes was good enough. The thought of brown hair suddenly brought Gwaine to her mind, and a blush crept into her cheeks as she thought of him. Giggling aloud, she said to herself, maybe I have something in common with the other girls after all. Not that she'd told anyone, not even Merlin, how she adored Gwaine—his beautiful shoulder-length chestnut hair, vibrant brown eyes that flashed when he was angry and sparkled when he was happy, a smile that could stop her in her tracks even from afar. Thankfully, none of the other girls had set her sights on the newcomer knight; she couldn't have borne it if she'd have to hear Lavinia or Bronwyn whispering about how handsome he was or plotting in hushed tones behind Lady Magdalen's back about how they might accidentally bump into him in the marketplace or within the castle.
Lost in thought, Wynne didn't notice the trees thinning until she heard the steady clang of metal on metal and the shouts of young men. Glancing around quickly, she realized she had strayed off the path that led around to the kitchens and had come around to the rear courtyard where the squires were practicing their sword fighting. Wynne recognized the voice of her cousin Boris and some of his close friends. Not wanting them to see her and make sport of her again, she was about to turn and follow the path back to the kitchens when she heard Gwaine's voice call out, "Reginald, if you hold your sword that way in battle, you'll get your head cut off."
Unable to resist catching a glimpse of Gwaine, Wynne set down her basket and crept over to an opening in the trees to peer out. The afternoon sun was hot, and she noticed that many of the knights and squires had removed their shirts, or at least unlaced them. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she caught sight of Gwaine, shirtless, showing Reginald how to hold his sword properly. She had seen her father and brothers without shirts before, but nothing had prepared her for this! Gwaine's muscles rippled as he raised the sword and showed Reginald how to bring it down in an attack. Sweat glistened on his skin in the sunlight, and she could see his chest heaving as he breathed. Sir Elyan said something to him, and he laughed, tossing his long hair out of his face. Oh, he's so handsome, Wynne thought as she sighed and closed her eyes in a daydream.
An evil knight had captured Wynne and carried her off. Gwaine alone had seen the abduction and was in hot pursuit, riding faster than any knight had ever ridden. He soon overtook the knight and made him stop. The evil knight dismounted. Still holding Wynne tightly around the waist, he yanked her roughly off the horse and held her in front of him like a shield.
Gwaine quickly dismounted, sword drawn, and challenged the knight. The evil knight drew back his lips in a wicked sneer. "To the death," he hissed.
"As you wish," Gwaine replied, smiling humorlessly and lunging towards the knight.
The evil knight shoved Wynne to the ground; sobbing fearfully, she scrambled behind a rock. She heard swords clashing and shouts of pain as the battle raged. Finally there was the sickening sound of blade meeting flesh, followed by a deathly groan.
Wynne cowered behind the rock, afraid to look to see who had won. A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she jumped, ready to fight. Instead of the evil knight's sneer, she came face to face with Gwaine, who grinned triumphantly down at her. "Come, lass. Let's ride for Camelot."
Wynne joyfully threw herself into Gwaine's arms, and he lifted her onto his horse. Swinging up behind her, he gazed down at her adoringly. His brown eyes shone warmly as he said, "Wynne, my love…" He leaned down, and their lips met in a sweet, tender kiss.
Wynne was so lost in her daydream that she leaned forward too heavily on the branch that was supporting her and lost her balance, falling flat on her face. Sir Leon and Sir Percival stood closest to the tree line, so they heard Wynne crash into the underbrush. "Is someone there?" Sir Leon called, drawing his sword and starting for the trees, followed by Sir Percival. Wynne tried to scramble to her feet to escape into the cover of the trees, but her braid snagged on a branch. Before she could yank it loose and flee, two pairs of booted feet burst through the underbrush and stopped in front of her. She looked up to see Sir Leon and Sir Percival standing over her. Seeing Wynne cowering on the ground, red-faced at being caught, the two knights looked at each other and sheathed their swords, unable to hide their smirks. Sir Percival glanced over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and called out, "It appears we have ourselves a spy."
Sir Leon laughed good-naturedly and responded, "I believe you're right. There's only one thing to do with spies" They both stepped forward and grabbed her arms to pull her to her feet. She struggled to get away, knowing they would make sport of her just as they had done when Willetta was caught snooping around the knights' quarters one night. As they hauled her out into the courtyard, he continued, "It was only a matter of time before another one of our ladies-in-training paid us a visit."
Wynne kept her head lowered, but raised her eyes to look around at the knights and squires in front of her. Boris leaned on his sword and stared at her disdainfully, shaking his head. Reginald and two other squires stood with him, also glaring at her disapprovingly. Several of the younger squires looked between Wynne and the knights, waiting excitedly to see what would happen to her. Sir Elyan stood with his arms crossed, staring sternly at her. Last of all, she slid her gaze over to Gwaine, silently praying he wasn't angry. Like Sir Elyan, he had his arms crossed over his chest. She swallowed hard as she watched glistening beads of sweat slide slowly down the rippling muscles of his arms. Wynne's eyes snapped upwards as Gwaine tossed his head, flipping his sweat-soaked hair out of his face. His expression was stern, but his dark eyes danced with mischief as he and Sir Leon exchanged a look. The slightest of smiles twitched on his lips as he said, "I would have expected one of the other young ladies to come spying, but not Wynifred." Why did he use my proper name, Wynne wondered. Maybe he really was angry. He caught her eye and teased, "I thought you and Merlin were fast friends. Are you trying to make him jealous, then?"
Wynne opened her mouth to protest, but then faltered. What reason could she give for being there that would neither confirm Gwaine's erroneous suggestion nor reveal her true motive?
Whether intending to rescue his cousin or merely wanting to make jest of her, Boris called out, "Wynne isn't even interested in boys. She just wants to watch the sword fights." Wynne caught Boris' eye and shook her head at him. He smirked at her, obviously recalling the last time he had crossed swords with her. "She fancies herself more of a swordswoman than a lady; that's why Uncle Gerald had to send her here."
Several squires laughed. The very idea of a girl wielding a sword! Reginald picked up his sword and waved it at Wynne. "Stand and fight!" he jeered.
Wynne felt her face growing red. Although Boris' words were true, she had never meant for anyone else at Camelot to discover that she would rather train with the knights than become a lady. She cringed as she imagined Lady Magdalen's scandalized expression if she were caught with a sword again. Gwaine's expression was a combination of mischief and kindness as he regarded her, obviously also recalling her last spar with Boris. Looking quickly between Wynne and Reginald, he picked up his sword and walked purposefully towards her. Wynne's eyes widened in panic as he handed her the sword. "Come, lass," he called out brightly. "Come here and show Reginald how it's done. He fights like a girl, so 'twould be an equal match."
Sir Percival choked a laugh into a cough and turned away for a moment. Wynne wasn't sure if he was laughing at her or at Reginald, who was himself looking a bit red-faced at Gwaine's jest.
"Gwaine, do you think that's wise?" Sir Leon asked seriously, but unable to hide a smile.
Gwaine joked, "Wisdom isn't one of my strong points, Leon." Seeing Wynne's expression turn from embarrassment to fear, he added, "The blades are dulled; the lass won't lose any appendages." More kindly, he urged, "Come, lass. Don't be afraid. I'll help you."
As Wynne reached tentatively for Gwaine's sword, Reginald took a step forward and huffed, "That's not fair, two against one!" His beady blue eyes glared more at Wynne than at Gwaine. Wynne sized him up; he was a good four inches taller than she and a great deal stronger. That, and he wasn't likely to give her any leeway as her cousin might.
Sir Elyan laughed and called out, "There's only one sword, Reginald, and Gwaine will only step in to help her. Besides, you've had six months of training."
"Not that it shows," muttered a short, blond-haired squire sitting on the ground by the spare shields and gnawing an apple.
Somewhat encouraged by the jabs at Reginald, Wynne glanced up at Gwaine before taking his sword from him. When he caught her eye and winked, her mouth went dry, and her stomach flip-flopped the way it had the day Father's horse ran away with her on its back. She was surprised by the weight of this sword; it was much heavier than the wooden swords she and her brothers had sparred with at home, and heavier even than the tin swords she and Boris used.
Reginald took a step towards Wynne, a look of mixed anger and hurt pride on his face as he raised his sword. Wynne swallowed hard and raised her sword with some difficulty. Reginald noticed her struggle and grinned maliciously; she knew he thought this would be an easy fight. Wynne felt everyone's eyes upon her as she stepped away from Gwaine and prepared to spar. They stood regarding each other for a moment before Sir Elyan hesitantly called out, "Fight!"
Wynne barely got her sword up in time to deflect Reginald's first strike. She gasped as the blow jarred her whole body; this was much different than fighting with play swords. Reginald struck twice more, almost knocking the sword from her hands. As he raised his sword again, Wynne turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut as she braced for his blow.
"Come on, Wynne," Boris yelled critically. "You're not even trying!"
"Keep your eyes on your opponent, Wynne," Sir Percival advised, circling the two fighters.
Sir Leon motioned to Wynne and encouraged, "Get your sword up and attack."
Gwaine suddenly came up behind Wynne and placed his hands over hers to help her raise the sword. He helped her bring her arms up to strike and said low in her ear, "As Percival said, keep your eyes on your opponent. Watch for weaknesses and attack there."
Wynne hardly heard Gwaine's words; she was focused on his hands covering hers and on the closeness of his body. When Gwaine stepped back, Wynne almost looked back at him for encouragement. Just in time, she recalled that Gwaine and Percival had just instructed her not to look away from Reginald. Suddenly wanting nothing more than to prove herself, Wynne made a great effort and brought her sword up to strike Reginald. Cheers went up all around her as she made her first offensive hit. "You fight like a girl," Reginald mocked, raising his sword to strike again.
"I am a girl," Wynne replied angrily, successfully blocking his blow.
As the two crossed swords, Reginald brought his face close to Wynne's and hissed, "Not much of one."
A lump rose in Wynne's throat at his words as she struggled with herself. True, she did prefer being outside and rough-housing with the boys over learning how to sew dresses, take her meals daintily and manage the affairs of a household. But that didn't mean she didn't have the desire to be thought of as feminine and attractive, especially in Gwaine's eyes. His hurtful remark made her even more determined to thrash him, so she redoubled her efforts and made more strikes. She quickly figured out how to use the sword's weight to her advantage, building up momentum with each swing and focusing her strength and balance on aiming her blows.
For several minutes, she and Reginald danced around each other. The metal clang of swords rang in Wynne's ears, and sweat trickled down her face and into her eyes, making her blink quickly. Her neat braid had come undone, and loose curls stuck to her sweaty face. Her arms began to ache, and it became harder to lift the sword. This duel had to end, she thought, but she didn't want to give in.
Reginald knew his opponent was tiring. She was just a girl, after all, and she was unused to the hard labor and training a squire had to endure. He began doing fancy moves and feints with his sword, as he had seen some of the more experienced knights do. He knew that a couple more blows would likely cause her to drop her sword, so he thought he would try a difficult move that would impress both the other squires and the knights, as well as defeat this bold little wench. He raised his sword as if to strike, but instead of bringing it down immediately, he spun around, bringing the sword high above his head.
Wynne watched Reginald's sword rise, but she was taken aback as he began to pivot—what was he doing? Gwaine's advice came to her mind—watch for weaknesses and attack there. Reginald's arms were above his head, and he was facing away from her. It only took a split second for her to bring her sword up with a grunt and aim for his exposed ribcage. A sickening thud told Wynne she had hit her mark. Reginald cried out in pain, dropping his sword and falling to the ground. As he lay groaning and gripping his side, Wynne stepped over to him and pointed her sword at his chest. Her eyes flashed fire as she hissed, "I may fight like a girl, but I just bested you, Reginald."
Cheers and whoops rose up as the others applauded her victory. Sir Elyan's concerned frown was replaced by a wide grin as he clapped his hands proudly. The younger squires cheered for Wynne and jeered at Reginald, who lay on the ground glaring up at Wynne. Sir Leon and Sir Percival congratulated her, and even Boris grudgingly nodded his approval in her direction. Suddenly, Wynne gasped as a laughing Gwaine caught her up in a bear hug and spun around and around with her. "You did it, lass! You did yourself proud!"
Startled and surprised by Gwaine's actions, Wynne's arms went around his neck, and she found her face level with his. Her breath caught as she gazed at him; she had never been, had never dreamed she'd really be this close to him. His deep brown eyes gleamed with pride over her accomplishment, and his smile was so bright it almost blinded her. His lips, framed by his short brown beard, looked so soft and inviting, and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. His warm breath on her face as he laughed made her dizzy with longing, and she finally understood what so many of the older girls meant when they said their suitors made them feel as though they'd drunk too much mead.
Sir Leon's voice broke into her reverie. "Gwaine, put the poor girl down! She's a young lady, not a sack of barley!"
Gwaine abruptly stopped spinning and set Wynne on her feet, apologizing for his roughness. "Your prowess with the sword made me forget you're a young lady," he said, taking her hand and bowing gallantly to her.
Wynne stumbled, taken aback by his words. He had forgotten she was a young lady? But she wanted Gwaine to see her as a young lady, as someone he'd want to court when she came of age a little more than a year hence. She stared into his beautiful brown eyes and saw kindness, but naught else, no indication that he found her attractive…oh. She looked down at her dress, which was now streaked with dust and sweat. She put her hand to her forehead, which was now hot and sticky with perspiration. Her curly hair had come unbraided, and tendrils stuck to her forehead, cheeks and neck. No, she was certain she looked and smelled nothing like a lady.
"I think you've made the poor girl dizzy," Sir Elyan said, clapping Gwaine on the shoulder. Knowing how Lady Magdalen felt about Gwaine, he teased, "I don't think Lady Magdalen would approve of you being so rough with one of her charges."
"Oh, my goodness, Lady Magdalen!" Wynne exclaimed. She had completely forgotten why she had been out in the woods instead of inside with the other young ladies. Lady Magdalen was likely wondering what was taking Wynne so long. She rushed back into the trees to claim her basket of herbs and hurried back along the path that led back to the kitchens. She could hear the cheerful banter of the men as they returned to their training. One voice stood out above the others, and Wynne's heart soared as she heard Gwaine say loudly, "Young Wynne's performance was quite impressive. I'll not forget this afternoon for a long time."
Back inside, Gaius looked up in surprise as Wynne burst into his room and set the basket down on his work table. His sharp eyes took in the flustered expression on Wynne's sweaty face, her dirty, sweat-streaked dress, and her tangled, unbraided hair, and he asked with concern, "Is everything all right, Wynne? You look as though you were running from the devil himself."
Still breathing heavily, Wynne replied, "No, Gaius, everything is fine, truly. I just…took longer than I expected, and I was afraid Lady Magdalen would be upset, so I ran back here." Glancing quickly at the basket, she asked, "Did I find everything you needed?"
Still regarding Wynne with concern, Gaius reached for the basket and sorted through the assortment of plants and mosses. He knew the girl wasn't being completely honest, but he saw that she had collected everything on his list, and without Merlin's assistance. He smiled at her and said approvingly, "Well done, Wynne. You are indeed a quick learner. I will have to inform Lady Magdalen that you are more than ready to begin learning how to prepare simple medicinal teas and poultices."
Wynne beamed at this unexpected praise. As she rushed to her room to wash up, change into a clean dress and fix her hair for dinner, she thought to herself, this day was turning out to be a good one-high praise from Gaius and defeating the annoying Reginald in a sword fight. Now if only she could get through dinner in the Great Hall this evening without spilling something or otherwise causing a scene, she might actually go to sleep happy tonight.
As she donned the dark blue gown that had once been her mother's, she became aware of an unexpected consequence of the afternoon's activity. The muscles in her arms and shoulders ached so badly that she could hardly lift them above her head to put on her dress; there was no way she would be able to re-braid her hair. Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that she'd have to wear her hair down. Quickly grabbing a ribbon from one of her other dresses, she pulled her wild curls forward over one shoulder and criss-crossed the white ribbon down her hair and tied it into a bow at the bottom. Finally, she plucked a yellow daisy from the bouquet she'd gathered yesterday and tucked it behind her ear. Just before she dashed out of her room to join the others in the Great Hall, she stopped in front of her mirror to check her appearance. Her breath caught as she realized for the first time how much she resembled her mother. At least in her appearance, though not in her behavior. Taking a deep breath to ward off the tears that had sprung into her eyes, she stood as tall as her aching shoulders would allow and slowly descended the stairs.
The other young ladies were already in the Great Hall when she entered, as were the knights, squires, Gaius and Merlin. Thankfully, she had arrived before King Arthur and Queen Guinevere; Lady Magdalen lectured every day that it would be scandalous to come into the Great Hall after the king and queen made their entrance. Lady Magdalen turned to chastise her for almost being late, but then stopped and took in Wynne's appearance. Then Wynne saw something she never thought she'd see—Lady Magdalen smiled at her ever so slightly.
Wynne was so taken aback and pleased by Lady Magdalen's unspoken praise that she failed to notice every one of the knights and squires also gazing at her appreciatively, but none more so than Gwaine, who for once had stopped his incessant chattering to lean forward on his fist and stare wordlessly at the young girl who only this afternoon had defeated one of the older squires, but who now looked like the young lady he realized she was.
