King Olaf expected the fidelity quest to be my undoing. That much is clear in his expression when I come striding back into the castle. Meanwhile, Vivian looks smug, though more significantly, not surprised in the least. "I knew you could do it," she says with absolute confidence, and I'm amazed by her reaction, humbled to realize she has so much faith in me.
But it isn't just that. She seems to understand me on some deeper level, far more than I've come to expect even from my closest friends. Back in Camelot, I'm certainly valued for my better qualities. But there are many assumptions made about me, too, particularly when it comes to amorous pursuits. As if I'm only interested in a good time… as if my harmless flirtations are synonymous with bedding every woman in sight. Not sure what I did to earn that reputation, but it's far from the truth. I'm glad Vivian sees that, even if no one else does.
Perhaps when this is all over, they will.
Four quests left… what obstacles will I be facing in the weeks to come? No matter – I'm not wasting any more energy on self-doubt. Maybe it seems arrogant, but I know now that I'm not going to fail. Not because I'm invincible, not that I think I'm any better than those who have come before me. I'm going to succeed simply because to do otherwise is unthinkable.
In the meantime, I'm given another reprieve, two more weeks in which to enjoy Vivian's company before the next challenge. I'm grateful for our time together, of course, but my impatience grows stronger by the day. Having acknowledged my love for her, finding more reasons to feel the way I do with every moment we share, I can't help chafing at limitations that have become impossible to ignore.
It isn't just the chastity belt, though that seems like the most obvious issue when I retire to my chambers in the evening, hard and aching for her. As frustrating as that might be, the fact that the physical barrier is also an emotional one makes it infinitely worse. After all, how can I speak to her of love, make promises or plan a future together, when even the present is yet to be determined? No, I'm not going to fail her… but until I turn intention into fact, it doesn't seem fair to make any claims on her heart.
Still, the days pass pleasantly enough. We share meals, walk in the gardens each day, and during the second week, Olaf finally relents to her persistent requests to allow us to go riding together. She's smiling when I meet her in the stables, cheeks pink and eyes bright with anticipation. Unable to help myself, I hesitate before I approach her, giving her a look of mock concern.
"Are you going to help me mount?"
"I'm not sure," I say thoughtfully. "Last time I checked, you weren't exactly enthusiastic about that sort of thing."
"What?" She seems confused before the memory comes flooding back, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Gwaine! I wasn't… I didn't…" Flustered, she trails off, giving me a sheepish look. "I was awful, wasn't I?"
"Nah." I step forward, placing my hands around her slender waist. Rather than boosting her up, however, I hold her there, pressing my lips to her forehead and then the tip of her nose before capturing her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss. As always, I'm intoxicated by her closeness, lost to the honeyed taste of her and the warm softness of her body against mine. I forget what I was about to say… hardly remember to breathe until she pulls back with a dazed expression.
"Yes, I was," she says after a moment, reaching up to brush my hair away from my face with gentle fingers. "And I'm sorry for it."
"Sorry for what?"
I love the forests here in the south. Dense they might be, but green and fragrant, the lush undergrowth aided by dozens of swift running streams that branch out from the nearby rivers. The pathways are wide and well tended, making for an easy ride as we travel leisurely toward our destination.
"Just a little further now," Vivian says, though she refuses to tell me where we're going. This doesn't bother me in the least – it seems that trust is another emotion that has grown strong between us. I wait patiently, smiling at her obvious enthusiasm, until we finally emerge into a tiny glade.
She doesn't need to explain – my senses are immediately captivated by what lies before me. Carpeted by a profusion of bluebells and other flowers I can't put a name to, it's a lovely place, soothing me with sweetly perfumed air and the soft tinkle of falling water. I quickly find the source of the latter – a miniature waterfall spilling into a crystal clear spring, surrounded by draperies of deep green ferns. Might not be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but it's damned well close to it.
I bring my horse to a standstill and help Vivian dismount, holding her close as she breathes in the serenity of our surroundings.
"This is my favorite place in the world," she says simply.
"Indeed, I can see why. How long have you been coming here?"
"Since I was just a child," she responds, looking thoughtful. "Right after I lost my mother. I needed somewhere to hide, couldn't stand being in the castle any longer. The courtiers, the servants… everyone kept asking if I was all right, trying to make me eat when I wasn't hungry, sleep when I didn't feel tired. I felt smothered. They didn't understand that I needed to be left alone, I guess."
I nod, settling myself beside her on the grass and taking her hand as I wait for her to continue.
"And so I ran away." Her expression is peculiar – part wistful, part proud. "In the middle of the night, no less. I was terrified. I could see shadows, hear creatures moving in the underbrush all around me. But when I made it here, I felt safe… safer than I'd felt since the last time my mother had tucked me into bed."
"How old were you?"
She smiles, pulling her eyes away from some vantage point in the distance to meet mine. "Five. My father was hysterical, as I'm sure you can imagine. It was two days before they found me."
Unable to help myself, I snort. "Surprised he ever let you outside again."
"He was never the same after that. I'm not sure if it was losing my mother or almost losing me so soon thereafter, but you see…"
"How did she die?"
"Childbirth. Her and the baby – the son my father always wanted."
"That's awful," I tell her, at a loss for what else to say. "I'm sorry."
"So am I," she responds quietly. "Not so much for my sake – I was too young to understand – but for his. You see now, don't you? He's overprotective to a maddening degree. Sometimes I even think he's a little insane. But he has his reasons. I guess that's why, even when he infuriates me, I can't hate him. Not truly. I'm all he has left."
"Understandable," I say, though I'm having a hard time reconciling myself with this new information. I'm used to thinking of Olaf as a crazy old bugger, despising him for the way he's treated his daughter. Sympathizing with the man? Never expected that.
Seeming to sense the direction of my thoughts, Vivian says, "I'm not saying that makes it right. It doesn't. I just don't think he understands that allowing me to live my life as I choose isn't the same as losing me. No matter what, I'll always be his daughter."
"Right," I mutter, a cold chill creeping up my spine at the next thought that occurs to me. What if I do succeed in these quests and he refuses to let go? Another chastity belt? Something worse?
But when I voice these concerns aloud, she gives me a reassuring smile. "He'll have no choice. No, really – that was part of the bargain he agreed to from the beginning. If the spell is broken, I belong to you. He will not have the power to interfere."
"You belong to yourself," I tell her.
"What do you mean?"
I let out a heavy sigh. "I mean the choice is yours to make. If I succeed…"
She frowns. "If you succeed, you have every right…"
"No, I don't. That might be the nature of the spell, but I don't think that way. If you come to me freely, that's another matter, but I don't want you to do it out of any sense of obligation."
"But to go through all of this… are you saying you'd just let me walk away at the end of it all?"
"Yes," I say firmly, ignoring how much it pains me to imagine such a thing. "If that was what you wanted. I'm not doing this to win a prize, no matter how appealing that prize might be. I'm doing it because you deserve your freedom. Releasing you from another man's control just to have you under mine? Rather defeats the purpose, don't you think?"
"But… you do want me?"
I chuckle, shaking my head at the worried look on her face. "More than you will ever know. But when it comes to it, I'd want the decision to be yours. No forcing your hand, no hard feelings if I wasn't what you wanted. Understand?"
Comprehension dawns and she's struck speechless, which in turn renders me mute. I find it hard to imagine that anyone could be so deprived of free will that the idea of having it is a foreign concept. But there it is – a lifetime without choice staring back at me, utter disbelief gradually giving way to astonishment, swiftly followed by gratitude. And even in that, I hurt for her… why should she feel grateful for something that should be hers by right?
"Gwaine?"
"Hmmm?"
"If you make it through the rest of the quests, I…" She blushes and ducks her head. "I would choose to be with you. Willingly. What I feel for you, I… well, I don't know how to explain it, but I can assure you that obligation has nothing to do with it."
I'm quiet for a moment, torn between elation and a brief crisis of conscience. Yes, she's exactly what I want. No doubt about that. But would it be fair? Shouldn't she be able to enjoy her newfound freedom rather than shackling herself to me? She's so innocent, so sheltered… how can she know I'm truly what she wants without some basis for comparison, some life experience upon which to base her decision?
Gwaine, you're an idiot, I tell myself as I realize what I'm doing. Did I not just tell her that it was her choice to make? What gives me the right to turn around and place restrictions on that, even if I believe it might be for her own good? Hell, Olaf used the same damned excuse when he locked her up in that accursed chastity belt. It wasn't what was right for her, only what he deemed to be so. And although I'd like to believe my judgment is better than his, it's still mine rather than hers.
No… I have to put my reservations aside and let her think for herself.
"Gwaine?" She looks worried. Of course she does. Here she is, more or less offering me her heart, and I respond with silence.
"Sorry," I say, flashing her a reassuring smile as I pull her into my arms. "If you still feel that way when this is all over, nothing would make me happier. Guess I better get through the rest of these quests so we can find out, eh?"
I'm assuming my intelligence will be easy to prove, that it won't take much to have this quest over and done with. Olaf might've been creative with previous challenges – mindless brutality in particular seems like one of his strengths. But a clever mind? Not so much.
Still, I expected more than what I've been given, which is a sealed cache with a riddle engraved on the lid.
Speak my name and I disappear.
Needing only a moment to think about it, I smile to myself. "Silence."
The lid pops open and I let out a sigh of satisfaction, expecting to find some trinket I'm supposed to present as evidence of my success. But then I frown. There's another inscription on the inside, along with four peculiar objects – a small dagger, a potato, an empty cup, and a handful of corn.
Rely upon the earth for creation
Look to the skies for salvation
Consumption leads to fortification
And fruition comes from subjugation
All these things are connected, utilized to bring about a single outcome. What is it?
What the bloody hell?
Beneath the objects is a scrap of parchment, filled with the handwriting I've come to recognize as Olaf's:
Ask any other person to help you solve this riddle, and the quest is forfeit.
I roll my eyes. Obviously.
You have until sunset to come up with the correct conclusion. Speak it aloud and you will receive evidence of your success.
Until sunset? It's already midday. I stare in consternation at the seemingly unrelated objects, trying to find a connection between them. Daggers can definitely be used for subjugation, but that seems too obvious. Besides, what does that have to do with fruition? There's food involved here, but why would I need to bring vegetables under my control?
After a bit of deliberation, I think I at least have the second one figured out. Skies. Salvation. An empty cup. Water? Yes, that has to be it. But how is that connected with the other parts of the riddle? Creation. Fortification. Subjugation. Does it have to do with cooking? No, that doesn't make sense. The earth itself leads to creation, which must mean… growing things? All right, that makes sense.
But what to grow – the corn or the potato? Perhaps both? No. There are four objects, each with a different purpose in mind.
"Plant the corn," I mutter aloud. "Water it so it won't die. Eat the potato so that… hell, I don't know."
Scowling to myself, I try again. "Plant the potato. Water the damn thing. Snack on some corn. Then use the dagger to kill Olaf for coming up with such a bloody impossible quest. Sounds about right."
Of course, it isn't. I go over every possibility I can think of, all to no avail. Maybe I'm not as smart as I thought? I don't know, but I'm growing anxious as I look out my chamber window to see the shadows lengthening. Late afternoon already? How is that possible? I'm going to fail… no, I can't fail. Water the dagger… oh hell, I'm losing my mind!
Desperate now, I decide to take a walk in an effort to clear my head. At first I just mean to get out of the castle and wander the gardens for a while, but then I'm hit by a flash of inspiration. Still clutching the cache, I venture down the slope that leads away from the fortress to where a few farmers have established their crops. Hey, Olaf said I couldn't ask anyone for help; there was no mention of quietly observing.
The chickens are my first hint, studiously ignoring my presence as their owner scatters a handful of feed over the ground. The other? Not a well tended field, but one that appears to have been abandoned, brambles swiftly encroaching on whatever crops still remain.
Just as the sun dips below the trees, I call out the answer with a flourish, grinning to myself as the objects disappear to be replaced by a gold medallion.
Another quest down. Just three more to go.