London, England
August, 1394
England had spent centuries at war – mostly with his troublesome older brothers and with France. On the battlefield he'd learnt the virtues of planning, of valour and caution. It was the last of these merits that he made use of as he carefully opened the door to his home.
By all rights he shouldn't have to sneak into his own home. But ever since he started to share his home with Wales and Ireland coming through his front door became a gamble everyday. Arthur knew that his bosses' plans for unity were right and good and the only way that they would be strong. But sometimes he felt that the English management of their affairs gave Gwydion and Dara far too much time on their hands to conspire against him. It only got worse in times such as these when the Irish grew unruly and Dara fled back across the sea to his island. Admittedly he only had to deal with one nation then but it was a nation that both bore him a grudge and was bored.
However, today there was no nation lunging forward to tackle him to the ground, he'd not been soaked in any combination of vile fluids from the kitchen and there was no stream of abuse coming from the upper floors where Gwydion liked to lurk. Arthur crept further in. No servants were screaming. There were no livestock in his house. Nothing appeared to be on fire.
In fact, it was too quiet. Even if Wales hadn't done something he was usually singing to himself in some corner of the house or ensconced in his room fiddling with his harp.
If Gwydion had fled like Dara then there could be an uprising happening this very minute. Arthur slammed the door behind him, charging up the stairs. He had to get his sword and his bow then get to London. He had to act quickly before the Welsh did too much damage and undid all of his king's work.
"Mor swnllyd! Tawelu!"
Gwydion's voice came from downstairs. The dark-haired nation was hunched over one of England's books. Instead of engaging in petty vandalism, Wales was frowning with concentration, occasionally making a note on a blank sheet next to him. The last time Arthur remembered Gwydion and the art of writing meeting was when Wales and Ireland had hidden his entire supply of ink and waited until he was asleep before covering the walls with insults in Gallic and Welsh.
"What do you have there, Wales?" Arthur's hand closed around his knife. There was the possibility that this was not his older brother but a spy, sent here to steal England's secrets.
"Mae'n llyfr, twpsyn sais."
Well the insults were certainly right, as was the language.
"But what are you doing?"
"Darllen. Be arall, twpsyn?" now Gwydion had arisen from the pages, fixing him with that glare that was unmistakably Welsh, "Be ydy o?"
England retreated, careful not to turn his back on the angry nation. There had to an explanation.
Wales' new-found bookishness remained unexplained until England was summoned to the court of Richard II. Arthur, his livery adorned with the king's white hart, entered the court only to meet the amused green eyes of Gwydion ap Bledri. Though startled he kept his cool, bowing deeply over King Richard's hand.
"High Majesty."
"Sir Kirkland," a smile crossed Richard's handsome face. The king was still young, though June had seen the seventeenth year of his reign begin. Richard had come to power at the age of fourteen, the Black Prince dying before his father, before he could become Edward IV, "We are glad to see our nation once more."
"Bore da, Lloegr," said Wales from his nest of books and paper and parchment. His clothes were of the best quality nothing as fine as the ones he'd refused from Arthur before. On his breast there was sown a scarlet dragon and on the other was Richard's white deer.
"I did not expect you here, Wales."
"It is all part of our plan, Sir Kirkland," said the King, rising from his throne, "Like we discussed before to break the power of those who would threaten my authority."
"Wales is a part of this, Royal Majesty?"
"We are leaving London," the king ignored Arthur's gasp and continued, "to establish a new court in Cheshire. The counties of Wales are being given to those loyal to us and Sir ap Bledri is learning, along with his people, how to fill the posts my men shall create. If some of the nobility would turn against us, why then we have the loyalty of Wales and of England themselves," he touched Gwydion's dark curls and the nation smiled.
"High Majesty, we still have trouble in Ireland."
"Only a matter of time until we shall take it back. There is peace with France and our neighbours in Scotland are quiet," Richard's smile broadened, "We shall be safe."
Arthur was not certain who Richard was referring to – to all of them or merely to himself.
Tower of London
13th October, 1399
Arthur Kirkland was no allowed to see his former king. Instead Gwydion was brought from the tower to where he waited outside. The difference between them was stark, just coming from the coronation Arthur was dressed in his best whereas his brother's clothes were ragged and filthy.
England knew that his volatile temper was shared by his older brothers and that their mouths got them into trouble more than once. He wondered what exactly Wales had said to Henry Bolingbroke, now Henry IV, King of England and Lord of Ireland, to get the nation brought to the tower along with the former king Richard.
When Wales spotted England's coronation clothes his gaze hardened. As soon as he got in range he spat full in Arthur's face,
"Bradwr!"
"What could I do, Gwydion? He's my king now and you know what that means."
"Richard oedd dy frenin di! Beth iti'n wneud?"
Arthur had not been with Richard when he was captured. Henry Bolingbroke had marched through England's lands while the king had been in Ireland and, after destroying much of Cheshire, had summoned the king to Conwy Castle. Speed had been everything and Conwy was in North Wales, territory that Gwydion was intimately familiar with. Only Wales had gone to meet Bolingbroke with the king.
"Come home. We can discuss this there."
"Beth am pobl Cymru?" Wales remained rooted to the spot, "Cawson ni eu addo…"
"At home, Wales."
The capital was most definitely back in London and Richard's favourites had no power. There would be few opportunities for the Welsh now.
Chester, England
10th January, 1400
On the border between England and Wales, they'd found Piers Legh, captain of Richard II's archers. He was hanged publicly, still wearing the monk disguise that had failed him. What the guards and soldiers did not expect was the rioting that followed.
The Welsh had not forgotten Richard II who languished in Pontefract Castle.
For his part Gwydion smashed and tore his way through Arthur's home until the younger nation managed to overpower the Welshman and lock him in his room. Meals were taken in silence with Wales glaring at England over the empty space where Ireland had sat. To be safe England confiscated his older brother's weapons and locked them away.
The Welsh were restless. Similarly Gwydion paced the corridors and rooms of England's home only stopping to stare out into the west.
Translation Notes
Mor swnllyd! Tawelu! – So noisy! Quiet!
Mae'n llyfr, twpsyn sais – A book, English idiot
Darllen. Be arall, twpsyn? – Reading. What else, idiot?
Be ydy o? – What is it?
Bore da, Lloegr – Good morning, England
Bradwr! – Traitor!
Richard oedd dy frenin di! Beth iti'n wneud? – Richard was your king. What are you doing?
Beth am pobl Cymru? – What about the people of Wales?
Cawson ni eu addo … – We were promised…
Historical Notes
The years 1389 to 1415 is known as the Second Peace of the Hundred Years War. Richard the Second did work for peace with France but the pause in the fighting was mainly due to internal strife in both countries, such as uprisings in Ireland and Wales and Richard II being overthrown.
Richard II did indeed want to move his capital to Cheshire. He was a great believer in the divine right of kings and so was quite unpopular with the nobles. A lot of land in Wales was given to his various favourites and many new posts were filled by Welsh people. He had a lot of support in Wales as a result. In contrast under the reign of Henry IV opportunities for the Welsh were suddenly very limited and support for the deposed king remained high for a long time – sometimes leading to riots such as the ones in Chester.
Alright, alright I may have lied. The rebellion starts next chapter. There will be Welsh awesomeness aplenty I can assure you.
Diolch yn fawr and thank you very much again to my lovely beta Tensai-chan!