Author's Note:I'm finally back! Sorry it has been so long, life got in the way.
Thank you all for your patience and please do let me know what you think about this chapter (it's really long, I'm sorry...)
I would also like to dedicate this chapter to HPuni101! Promise the next one will be up a lot sooner.
Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, their characters nor their plot. I do however own the Princess Arwyn and Sir Geralt. Their character and story arcs remain my intellectual property.
Hooves thundered against the fallen trees along the muddy tracks. A crossbow hung loose from the saddle, it's bolts dripping with water used to erase the remnants of its hunt. As the wind teased at the loose tendrils that had slipped from her ribbon, she smiled widely at her guard. It was moments like this that she truly felt free. Surrounded by nature as the sun beat down on their backs, miles from the political noose around her neck. Delving deeper into the forest, her hairs stood on end. Pulling Falen to a halt, the princess tilted her head – a concentrated frown knitting her thin eyebrows together. The world seemed much quieter than it had ever been. The birds had ceased their song, the leaves had failed to quiver in the morning breeze; the only sound was the whisper of their breath on the air. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
As she flickered her calculating stare to the darkened, scarred glare of her companion, a shrill scream broke through the vacuum that had consumed them. Snapping into action, she kicked the black stallion – forcing him into a brisk canter. A commotion up ahead spurred her further as she clutched her dagger, ignoring the concerned warnings from the knight that struggled to keep up with her.
Reaching the source of the danger, she watched wide-eyed as a large creature retreated deeper into the forest. It was like nothing she had ever seen before; the head of an eagle on the body of a lion. Calls of help from a voice that was not at all unfamiliar, drew her attention. Dismounting with haste, the small princess was met by a panic-stricken friend.
"Merlin? Are you alright? What happened?" She rushed, quickly kneeling by the serving boy. Her eyes landed on the dark-haired stranger; blood seeping out over his blue shirt, prompting her to put pressure on it. As her hands pushed down on the deep wounds, her gaze wandered up to Merlin as he told the tale of the monster attack between heavy, laboured breaths. Her eyes widened in shock as a hot sticky red liquid poured between her fingers and the sound of hooves thundered to a halt behind them.
"What the bloody hell…"
"We need to get him to Gaius." The princess interrupted her guard, ripping a large strip from her long tunic and tying it around the man's torso in an attempt to bandage the wound. Deep crimson smears stained the light fabric of her dress as she ran her hands over it and ordered: "Put him on the back of Falen."
"My Lady, I should take him."
"I'm the faster rider. He needs medical attention now." The knight hesitated – unwilling to allow her to ride back to the castle unaccompanied. Sensing his lack of action, her expression grew stony. "That's an order."
Upon the magic words that bound him to her service, Sir Geralt nodded curtly. There was no arguing with the stubborn young woman. He sighed through his nose as he swung the younger boy over his shoulder with ease before placing him behind his princess on the pitch-black stallion. Without another word, Arwyn had nudged Falen onwards, clipping her heels against him as he pushed forward in a strong gallop. The wind whipped at the fallen ends of her hair and her hands trembled with adrenaline. Glancing back momentarily at the man whose life was now – quite literally – in her hands, Arwyn nudged the horse once more. Her legs burned and ached as she finally crashed through the gates of the castle; unaware of how she had found her way. Upon viewing the shower of blood, a swarm of knights drowned her, calling for the king. However, her only worry was the dark-haired stranger.
Her flickering, wide-eyed stare landed on the bloodied clothes that lay atop her bed. The scarlet stains had long been banished from her pale complexion, yet she could still sense them; lingering. The stone tiles beneath the window grew etched with her pacing, the soles of her shoes grew warm with the friction. Her hand rested against her bottom lip as her gaze continued to wander, engulfed in thought. Water dripped from the ends of her freshly washed hair as she sighed and turned to the man who had been watching her continuously:
"I never took you for much of a nurse-maid." She muttered, tired of his watchful eye and the heavy silence that ensued after the constant repetition of the same three questions. The older man smiled fondly at her wit. "As I have said, I am quite alright. The blood wasn't mine."
As he opened his mouth to respond, the door to her chambers flew open, crashing off the wall as the prince rushed to the princess.
"I heard what happened, are you alright?" He asked, his hands running from her shoulders to her elbows as he stood close to her, surveying her. Concern creased his brow and flooded his eyes as they remained connected to the vulnerability in hers.
"I'm fine." She whispered, nodding in confirmation.
"The creature, did you get a good look at it?" The gruff tone from the corner of the room alerted Arthur to the presence of his father, prompting him to abruptly pull away from the young woman in front of him and knot his hands behind his back.
Nodding in response, Arwyn's attention was soon drawn to the open door of her chambers. Upon seeing the court physician approaching, the young woman blurted the question that had been on her mind all day: "How is he?"
The old man bowed his head in respect as he entered the chambers: "His wounds are superficial, there is no deep internal damage. He should wake come morning." Smiling as her shoulders visibly relaxed, the princess nodded. "You did well, My Lady. It would seem that you do listen when I teach."
"You look positively charming today." The princess smirked sarcastically, eyeing Arthur's sullen expression as she browsed the flowers at the market stall, the following morning.
"Don't." The blonde prince warned, tossing his gauntlets at Merlin who followed behind. The stress lacing his tone and expression. "You know, Grummund is the third fail this month. How am I meant to protect Camelot with rubbish like that?"
Arwyn hummed as she toyed with the purple peonies in her hand: "Perhaps it's the teacher." A playful smile spread across her lips as Arthur turned to her with a scowl. "Maybe that's just what happens when you limit your field. There are only so many people who were born with the right to fight for their King." Tilting his head in silent agreement, Arthur threw down a couple of coins to the florist – overpaying for flowers that the princess was holding. Surprised by the gesture, Arwyn raised an eyebrow at the prince who simply shrugged and carried on walking, forcing her to catch up. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I think I might be able to help!" Merlin suddenly shouted from behind, reminding the royals of his presence.
"You, Merlin?" Arthur scoffed obnoxiously, "You haven't the faintest idea what it takes to become a knight. Courage, fortitude, discipline…"
"Putting up with him all day." Arwyn interrupted before feigning realisation, "Oh, you already have that one!"
Arthur fought a smile as he turned to her: "Do you ever have anything useful to say?"
"Depends who you ask." A slow grin spread across her face. The prince's eyes met hers and held them for a moment as he battled against another smile, silently hating the effect she seemed to have. As he scoffed and turned away to save face, Arwyn glanced back to the serving boy and smiled: "Sorry, you were saying?"
"I didn't mean me. Of course not." Merlin mumbled, feeling rather sheepish suddenly. "I know someone that has what it takes. He saved my life."
"And then Arwyn had to save his."
"You mean like Morgana saved yours against Valiant?" The princess bit back, irritated by the young man's continuous ignorance.
"She didn't…" Arthur began before sighing in defeat and turning back to Merlin: "Look, I'm sure he's great but you forget the First Code of Camelot."
"The what?"
"The First Code." Arwyn repeated, "Only those born of nobility can serve as a knight."
"Well…" Merlin stammered. "He, he is noble."
"He is?" Arthur asked, his face scrunching in surprise as the princess narrowed her eyes and raised a suspicious brow at the boy who avoided eye contact. "Very well. Bring him to the training ground tomorrow. And make sure he brings his seal of nobility."
After the long impromptu stroll through the town with the prince, the princess made her way back to the castle. The sun beat down on her as her boots kicked the dirt beneath them, the bundle of flowers still cradled in her right hand. The town was as busy as ever, chatter danced along the wind accompanied by the percussions of the blacksmith's hammer against the anvil.
As she arrived on the grounds of the castle, her sea green eyes landed on familiar dark curls. A small smile crossed her expression, deepening her dimples as she called to him: "I'm glad to see you're awake."
Turning towards the voice, Lancelot's eyes widened before he dropped to the ground in a deep bow: "I believe I owe you my life, Princess."
"Stand up." She muttered, looking around awkwardly. As the man rose, she eyed him: "Merlin mentioned that you wish to become a knight of Camelot."
"I did, My Lady."
"Did?" Raising an eyebrow in question, she continued walking into the castle only to pause as the man hesitated, unsure whether or not he should follow.
Taking her expression as hint enough to pursue her, Lancelot jogged up to her before finally answering her question: "When I was a boy, my village was attacked by raiders from the northern plains. They were slaughtered where they stood, my father, my mother. Everyone. I alone survived." Arwyn's lips turned down and her heart sank as she listened to the story of his past. She had witnessed much loss throughout her short lifetime yet, she could not imagine being truly alone in the world. "I vowed that day that never again would I be helpless in the face of tyranny. I made sword craft my life. Every waking hour since that day, I devoted to the art of combat, and when I was ready, I set forth for Camelot. And now, it seems, my journey ends. Everything I fought for, wasted." Devastation and defeat contorted his expression and his deep brown eyes filled with sorrow as he turned to face her: "I am not of noble birth."
A gentle sigh escaped her as she nodded in understanding. Merlin had been mistaken as he named the man as a potential knight.
"I am sorry, Lancelot. There are few as dedicated to the position." She spoke, her words doing nothing to relieve his pain. "I wish there was something that I could do."
It had been another busy morning for the young royal. She had visited the townsfolk, learning the little details of their daily routines whilst helping where she could and highlighting the crown's concern for their wellbeing, despite her own belief that the king only cared when it suited him. As noon drew nearer, the sun cut across her feet and shoulders – warming them as she walked with her guardian. The conversation had been as pleasant as always and the young woman had just begun telling her knight about her latest lesson with the court physician as her gaze wandered across the training field; first landing on Arthur then snapping to a rather unexpected sight.
"Go on without me." She muttered, eyes narrowed and trained on the man in the orange armour. "I'll catch up."
Her feet carried her swiftly as Sir Geralt called after her: "My Lady, you do not want to be late for lunch with the king. Your father might put up with it, but Uther will not." A low growl escaped his scarred upper lip as the princess merely shrugged at him. "Children." He snarled under his breath, continuing towards the castle, as ordered by the insubordinate young royal in his charge.
"Well, you certainly look the part." Merlin mused as Arwyn approached the trio and Gwen grinned in agreement.
Lancelot, looking the sullener of the three grumbled: "I don't feel it."
"Merlin." Arwyn announced herself causing the younger boy to jump and face her wide-eyed. "What have you done?"
Gwen fought as slight smile as the serving boy scoffed, laughed, grinned and then scratched the back of his neck before answering his friend: "Why do you always assume it was me?"
"Because when it wasn't me, it's most certainly of your doing." The princess responded with a raised eyebrow. Lancelot ducked his head from her stare as she turned to him and held out her hand, wiggling her fingers impatiently and eyeing the roll of parchment clutched tightly between his hands. As the man bowed slightly and passed the forged seal of nobility to the brunette, Merlin smiled sheepishly. The handmaiden's eyes remained firmly on the royal as she scanned the document, a heavy silence falling over the group as they awaited her next move. "Well, I must admit, it is incredible work, Merlin but…" The prince's servant looked to her with a frown as she stopped mid-sentence however, he soon understood why as the parchment collided with the back of his head. "Seriously?!"
His eyes quickly scanned the knights as his arms flailed about in the air and he hissed: "Not so loud!" Gwen chewed the fingernails of her left hand as Arwyn glared furiously at the boy. The longer they argued, the higher the chance that Lancelot was discovered before he had had the opportunity to commit the crime. "He deserves a chance, Arwyn." Merlin continued, bright blue eyes pleading as a nervous sweat beaded across the brow of Lancelot who silently awaited his fate. "Please."
"Northumbria?" She finally spoke, causing each of her companions to frown in confusion.
"What?"
"Of all the kingdoms, you chose Northumbria?" Arwyn continued, scrunching up her nose in disapproval. "You could have chosen somewhere further afield. A better story and a lesser known nobleman. I could have helped if you'd come to me."
"The less you knew the better, My Lady." Lancelot's shoulders visibly relaxed as the young woman handed the forgery back to him, ignoring Merlin who stared at her incredulously: "I feel terrible about lying."
"Yes, well, you weren't exactly given the choice."
Upon receiving the pointed glare, Merlin placed his hands on his hips and scoffed: "Now I know what Arthur meant about not having anything useful to say."
"Merlin, that is no way to talk to any lady," Lancelot quietly scolded his new friend, "especially a princess."
As the man smiled shyly, the princess smiled sarcastically at the person who had quickly grown to be one of her closest friends whilst he scowled at her: "I like him. I think we should keep him." Laughing along with Guinevere, Arwyn's eyes were soon drawn back to Arthur who was finishing his training session with the new recruits. Nudging their own recruit forward, she spoke lowly: "If you are determined to go through with this, now's your chance."
Barely a breath had passed before the prince's gloved hand smacked Lancelot to the ground. Cringing at the sound, Gwen gasped lightly as the surrounding knights snickered in amusement. Arwyn sighed as Arthur began to walk away, turning his back on the dark-haired man. Taking a step forward, she paused. A slight smile crept onto her face as Lancelot refused to give up on his dream and rose from the muddy grass.
"I am ready now, Sire." He called after the blonde royal. Authority and confidence exuding in his words as he stood tall.
"You are, are you?" Arthur responded, a sliver of smugness sneaking through his expression angering the princess. "Fine. You can start by cleaning out the stables."
The knights erupted into laughter as their leader caught up to them, a self-righteous smile on his face. Arwyn's jaw slackened and her nostrils flared slightly as Lancelot looked back to them for support. Gwen returned his confusion with a sympathetic smile whilst the prince's manservant grinned in a childlike manner and offered two thumbs up. Glancing to the young princess, the wannabe knight received nothing as she picked up her skirts and marched after the prince.
She caught the group of men as they headed towards the town; her warpath unwavering despite the knights that surrounded the source of her anger.
"You are an insufferable prat, you know that?"
Arthur's expression remained passive as he toyed with his gloves. He had expected something from her regarding his dealings with Lancelot. Her expression had given her away as he had stolen a glance prior to walking away and so he simply muttered: "Good afternoon to you too."
"Was that display entirely necessary?" She asked rhetorically. Eyes hard and searching for his as they successfully avoided her. "Or did your ego require a massage?"
Rolling his eyes, the prince finally looked at her with a bored expression – further pushing her buttons as he explained, "I was teaching him humility."
"You were marking your territory." Arwyn quipped as quick as a flash; suggesting that she had known his response before he had even considered it.
"Please. He was given as much chance as everyone else."
Arwyn scoffed, an action that the prince had expected. One which prepared him for a sarcastic argument. He was not disappointed: "I don't see Grummund cleaning the stables." Crossing his arms, he fought to hide his amusement as she dramatically searched around. "Nope, definitely not here." As she rubbed her chin in feigned contemplation, she added: "I wonder how his face is after you slapped him." Her eyes widened with false realisation, prompting him to sigh and continue walking. "Oh wait. You didn't slap him. You treated him like everyone else." Catching up to the taller royal, she ordered: "Don't walk away from me when I am talking to you, Arthur." Upon hearing her words, he stopped and sighed heavily through his nose. "Lancelot was dismissed because Merlin suggested him." Arwyn concluded, "Or was it because I arrived to support him?"
"Don't flatter yourself." It was Arthur's turn to scoff as he rolled his eyes and turned back to the younger woman.
"Give him another chance. A real chance."
"Why?" The blonde retorted to her plea. "Why do you care?"
"Because all he has ever wanted to do was protect his people and he wants to do it by your side." The princess answered, stepping closer to him and fighting a smirk as he sighed in defeat and looked sincerely into her eyes. She had him right where she wanted him, and it was no secret to either of them. Though he would never admit it, Arywn had incredible power over him; an innate ability that urged him to do whatever she wanted. "Besides," She smiled: "I doubt you will find many men who after five minutes with you, don't want to stick your head on a pike."
The knights behind them chuckled as the young woman patted the prince's chest and began to walk away. A slight tinge of pink brandishing Arthur's cheeks as he spluttered: "Arwyn!" as if shocked by the petty revenge. However, as she ignored him and began conversing with a little girl, he turned back to his men and muttered: "Women."
A thundering at the door of her chambers jolted her out of her reverie as she sat on the windowsill, engrossed in another of Gaius' books. The rapid knocking continued, causing her to peel her gaze from the magical creatures and slowly make her way to the threshold. A gentle frown creased her forehead as she pulled the wooden door open to reveal a rather flustered Merlin.
"Sorry." He rushed, slightly breathless with blue eyes widened. "I wanted to get here before Gaius."
Arwyn's frown deepened as she crinkled her nose in confusion: "What? Has something happened?"
"No. Well, sort of…Kind of. Not really. I mean…"
"Merlin!"
As the young man's ramblings came to a halt, he scratched the back of his head and grimaced: "You might want to avoid Gaius for the foreseeable future." Glancing down the corridor to check they were alone, the serving boy then whispered, "He knows about Lancelot."
"You told him?!" The princess shrieked, only to be hushed by Merlin as he protested in innocence. "Merlin, what are we going to do if he tells Uther? Or if someone else finds out? I can't protect both of you."
"It will be fine!"
However, it appeared that the young boy had spoken much too soon as a rather angry whirlwind of blue and grey swept them up and forced them into the chambers. As the door slammed shut, the two friends eyed each other out of the corner of their eyes as they awaited the scolding.
"How could you be so stupid?" The court physician exclaimed after a long and uncomfortable silence. His face reddening as he stared at the young woman that he had bonded with since the moment they met, nineteen years ago. "This is treason, Arwyn, and the second time you've considered it in a matter of months!"
"I haven't done anything." The princess responded, her voice even.
As Gaius' eyebrows rose to his hairline and he feigned belief, she knew this was far from over: "Oh right. I was unaware that you told Arthur that Lancelot was not of noble birth?" Merlin lifted his gaze from the floor to glance at Arwyn as she opened her mouth to defend herself, only to close it as the old man continued: "And that you stopped Lancelot from trying out for the knights when you were told of their plans?" It was the young woman's turn to look at the floor, avoiding eye contact with every ounce of her ability as the physician repeatedly swapped his glare between the pair. "Oh, and of course, you had no hand in Arthur changing his mind about giving him a chance?"
"Okay, that one was me but…"
Her defences were soon halted as the man held up a hand; her respect for him immediately silencing her as she met Merlin's stare. The duo shifted on their feet as the man glared at them, the fury behind his eyes making them feel like siblings being scolded by their father: "I think perhaps the two of you ought to think about your uncanny ability to seek out trouble and then your incessant need to involve the other one." Their gazes dropped to the floor once more. "My chambers need cleaning see it done whilst both of your heads are still attached to your shoulders!"
Merlin's head shot up at the decided punishment: "Arwyn's the princess you can't…" He began to argue, only to meet the stern expression on his guardian's face. Stammering slightly, he looked to Arwyn who offered nothing but a simple nod, prompting him to sigh in defeat and glance back at a rather serious Gaius before settling back on the princess: "You can use the good broom."
The sweat created a sheen on her forehead. Her hair fell from its ribbon restraints and into her eyes, prompting her to huff as she banished it every two minutes. A reddened blister grew on the side of her thumb as she swept the dust from the floor, allowing Merlin to scrub the wooden boards behind her. The small physician chambers grew hotter as the sun shone through the tiny windows; growing uncomfortably stuffy as the friends worked.
"I think he made more of a mess just to punish us." The serving boy grumbled, throwing the cloth into the bucket again and splashing water everywhere.
"I guess we deserve it."
"Don't go all regretful on me now."
Arwyn grinned at his expression, running the back of her hand over her brow once more. Placing the broom to the side, she pouted slightly as she examined the blister: "It's at times like this I wish I was a sorceress." She muttered, prompting Merlin to freeze before turning to look a her. Frowning at his odd behaviour, she explained: "I could have this done with a click of my fingers."
As his shoulders visibly relaxed, the raven-haired boy laughed. His eyes sparkling as he added: "With the amount of trouble you land yourself in, you'd be dead by morning."
"You mean the amount of trouble you land me in?" The girl retorted as she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk toying at her lips. "I swear my life was a lot less interesting before I met you, Merlin."
"And yet despite all of that and Geralt's and Uther's disapproval, you're still my friend." He grinned, "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Well, no one else is going to give you one." Arwyn shrugged; a melodic laugh escaping her lips as the young man dipped the cloth in the bucket and launched it at her. The water spurted her in the face as she threw her arm up to protect herself.
Suddenly, shrill screams emerged from the town, prompting the curious two to forget their punishment and run towards the noise. The soles of their boots slapped against the cobbles as they ran to the main square. Panic spread through the people like a plague, as the injured ran towards the castle in the hope of protection. Thick, fresh blood was a common sight and it only increased the worry. The warning bells battered their eardrums.
"Gaius!" The princess called out over the din, dodging the crowds as she caught sight of the physician tending to a woman with a nasty head injury. "What can I do?" She asked, upon reaching him. Merlin a mere half-step behind her.
"Do you remember the basic suture I taught you?" The physician responded, reminding the young princess of the afternoon they had spent stitching pieces of fruit. As Arwyn nodded, the man pointed to his bag. "There are needles over there. Do what you can."
Once she had successfully threaded the needle, she was soon thrust her first patient. The elderly woman rattled with shock as she stared at her with large brown eyes: "It's okay." The young royal whispered. "You're safe now. May I take a look at your leg?" She asked, nodding towards the blood-soaked skirt. As the woman nodded, Arwyn smiled softly and carefully ripped the fabric away in an attempt to maintain the woman's dignity. The wound was deep, and the blood seemed never-ending – regardless of how much pressure she put on it. Her sea-green eyes widened as she searched the crowd for an extra pair of hands.
"Am I going to die?" The greying woman whispered, noting the concern on the princess' face. "It's alright. It doesn't hurt."
Turning back to her, Arwyn looked deep into her eyes: "You are not going to die. I promise." A flash of familiar armour caught her attention, filling her with hope as she called to him. His dark eyes immediately landed on her as he broke into a run. "I don't know what to do." She rushed as he knelt beside her. "I can't stop the bleeding."
Sir Geralt nodded to his princess as she removed her blood seeped hands. His eyes scanned the wound with inhuman speed before he ordered: "Fetch me that torch." As Arwyn's eyes widened at the prospect, he grunted roughly. "Do you want her to live or not?"
"The shock will kill her!"
"And if I don't try, she'll die anyway." Comprehending the serious expression on his face, the princess nodded and pulled herself to her feet, grabbing the flaming torch from its nest on the stone wall. Her hands trembled slightly as she held it out to her protector, watching as he removed his belt and forced the woman to bite down on it. Arwyn observed as the knight heated the blade of his dagger in the flames. "Hold her hand."
Doing as she was told, the young woman crouched beside the older one and clutched her hand. The smell of burnt flesh soon accompanied the muffled scream as the blade was placed against the severed blood vessels. Arwyn's eyes slammed shut as she looked away, trying to stomach the sight mingled with the stench. Suddenly, the hand that gripped hers fell limp.
Her brows knitted together as she opened her eyes and looked at the woman: "No..."
The scarred knight of the Distant Isles smiled slightly as he withdrew his hand from her wrist: "She's alive." He assured. "Her pulse is weakened but the bleeding has stopped. If she is seen by a proper physician, she should live." The man added, surprised as the young woman engulfed him in a tight embrace. Chuckling slightly, he patted her back. "That's enough of that. People'll think I've gone soft."
The celebrations were in full swing just hours after Arwyn had stood by Morgana and Gwen in the throne room, beaming with a strange sense of pride as the King lowered his sword onto Lancelot's shoulder. The dark-haired man had entered Camelot as a nobody but as he rose to his feet, he had earned himself a title with aid of a little meddling from his new friends.
After dressing for the feast, the three young women made their way into the Hall of Ceremonies. Music echoed off the walls and mingled with the chatter as the noblemen and women celebrated the new knight of Camelot; and they were not the only ones with an interest in the man. Guinevere had grown rather fond of Lancelot and despite how subtle she believed herself to be, nothing had escaped the princess' notice: "You're staring." She smirked, causing the handmaiden's olive complexion to take on a rather deep tinge of red.
"He is cute." Morgana defended.
Arwyn tilted her head as she surveyed the man who had moved to sit beside the prince: "I suppose he is but he's not my type." She hummed, gracefully accepting the goblet of wine from one of the servants.
"No, he lacks the rogue-ish charm you always wanted." The King's ward smirked, her eyes full of laughter. "Although, I don't see any of that in Arthur…"
"Perhaps that's why I feel nothing for him." The princess retorted defensively, her eyes flashing with annoyance that informed the older girl that she had pushed the right buttons as Gwen shook her head with a soft chuckle.
As the trio chatted and walked further into the room, they drew the attention of their topic of conversation: "Here's trouble." Arthur muttered as he watched her enter the room. The light from the flames added an auburn glow to her curls as they were bound in a loose ponytail, high on her head: simple yet it made her look sophisticated. Her dress was a deep scarlet, a political statement that Sir Geralt had undoubtedly convinced her to wear. The light fabric danced gracefully along the floor as she seemingly floated into the room and the young Pendragon found it almost impossible to take his eyes off of her, especially when they noted the way that her own lit up as she laughed at something unknown to him; her dimples carving her cheeks. "Tell me, do you think her beautiful?"
"Yes, Sire. I do." Lancelot responded rather dreamily, however it was not the princess that he spoke of for his gaze had settled on the object of his own affections as she left the noblewomen and made her way towards Merlin.
"Yes, I suppose she is…" The prince hummed, unaware that they were talking about different women. His gaze lingered on Arwyn. He could never quite understand her; anytime he believed that he was close, she would surprise him. It was as if she were a book that was sealed only to him, as others believed her predictable or understood what she was thinking, he could never quite read past the title. The rare moments in which she allowed him a sentence or two, were short-lived as she grew defensive and slammed the cover shut once more. The princess was able to read him with ease and so it was only natural that he felt at a disadvantage. Vulnerable to her power. Sensing his regard, Arwyn's eyes met his - brewing an unfamiliar feeling within him. She offered him a gentle smile which he returned, gladly holding her gaze until Morgana reclaimed her attention.
"Now you're staring." The taller brunette muttered, causing the princess to blush a deep scarlet before snapping her gaze to her. A large smirk coated Morgana's pink lips as her emerald eyes narrowed, a plan formulating at the back of her mind. "Let's give our prince something to stare at."
As if by accident, Arwyn found her regard lingering on the man once more as he spoke with Lancelot. However, a deep frown contorted her expression as she comprehended what her friend had said: "Wait, what?" She asked, turning to the older girl who had a firm grip on her arm and was pulling her in the opposite direction. "Morgana!"
Minutes seemed like hours as she was handed off to different men. Morgana laughed and twirled her hair at each of them as Arwyn smiled politely and twisted her hands in front of her. The son of one of Uther's allies spoke incessantly. He was a handsome young man, merely a few years older than herself, but his words fell on deaf ears as he listed each of his accomplishments and his successful missions. The world within her head appeared much more important to her as she glanced around the hall, finding none of her friends. The king's ward soon slammed her foot onto the princess' causing her to jump and look back to the nobleman, nodding with feigned interest and bidding him farewell. Releasing the sigh that she had been biting back, the younger brunette was soon greeted by another man, this time closer to her father's age than her own. He was a wine merchant and a very successful one at that, his eyes were a deep, kind, blue but unfortunately, not the ones she had subconsciously found herself looking for. Her feet began to ache as she remained firmly planted beside Morgana. Finding her goblet empty, she acquired a full one from a serving girl however, her guard had quickly swiped it from her grasp – perhaps to rescue her from the inevitable embarrassment the morning after; he was, after all, a common enemy of the mortifying potion of hangovers and shame. Praying that he would rescue her from the conversation, she was sorely disappointed as he was apprehended by three women.
"You look like you are having a terrible time." His breath whispered against her ear causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end as she peeled her uninterested stare from her protector.
Privately grateful for his presence, Arwyn smiled and turned to face him: "Perhaps I am." She answered softly as she took a step back, placing an appropriate distance between them. Studying her for a moment, Arthur offered his hand, smiling as she took it. "Did you know that there are between seven and thirteen different tastes of wine?" The princess spoke as he guided her away from her captor who was enthralled by another knight. "It all tastes the same to me." She finished, sending a glance to the man she had just abandoned. As the prince laughed, he captured her attention once more. Chuckling slightly, she shook her head – a light tinge of pink painting her cheekbones. "I just don't know how she does it."
"She loves the attention." He answered, quietly memorising her expression as she watched the older brunette. "Always has."
"She is probably the type of Lady that my father wishes I was."
Arthur subconsciously grazed her arm with his hand as he muttered: "I'm glad you're not like Morgana." However, he soon felt vulnerable as she turned back to look at him with considering eyes and so he simply shrugged, "I'd get bored."
"I never thanked you for giving Lancelot a second chance."
"That's because it would involve showing a sliver of appreciation for me." She rolled her eyes at his smirk before shaking her head with a musical laugh. Tendrils of deep auburn hair grazed her shoulders as it escaped the clasps that constrained it. It always seemed to be the case with her hair; something the prince had always thought very befitting to her – wildfire continually caged as people tried to tame and mould her into the role she had been born into. Tilting her head, her eyes narrowed softly as they trailed over his expression; another silent communication that he doubted he could ever decipher. "So." He began, breaking the silence as she gently picked a piece of lint from his jacket. "Did anybody catch your attention?" He asked, the wine fuelling his intrigue towards her intentions. As he nodded to the men that Morgana had coerced her into speaking with, picking them out of amongst the hundreds within the hall, Arwyn wondered just how long he had been watching.
Arthur's attention immediately returned to her as she followed his gaze and smiled at a thought that had crossed her mind. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight, her cheeks flushed from the heat. He studied her briefly, as she ran her bottom lip between her teeth and considered her answer before turning to him with a coy smile: "Perhaps one."
Her eyes wandered his face before holding his gaze; the magnetism between them, seemingly pulling them closer. Suddenly, a rush of brunette in the shape of the king's ward passed between them: "There you are! Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."
And before they knew it, they were yanked to separate sides of the room.
The edge of her skirts swept the floors as she all but ran down to the dungeons. As noon approached, the sun rose higher in the deep sapphire sky and the castle seemed to burst into life. Guards and servants went about their daily duties, seemingly invisible to the knights and noblemen that passed them without a single nod of acknowledgement. Growing up, Arwyn had always been taught to treat everyone with humanity and to exercise humility. However, today she had been just as bad as the Pendragon prince that she had often scolded as her mind warped around a thousand different scenarios, crafting ways to undo the mess that she had helped create. To return freedom to the man that she believed to be more honourable than half of those born with nobility.
A cool breeze blew through the cells forcing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. The flames danced above the torches, gently caressing the stone walls as if greeting a long lost lover. Lancelot sat with his back against the wall, head in his hands; hiding the guilt that twisted his expression. As the echoed scuffing of her feet drew closer, he looked up; pitiful sorrow painting his tanned face.
"Merlin told me what happened, I came as soon as I could." She whispered, stepping close to the bars to maintain privacy from the guards. It had been barely after sunrise when she awoke to a panicked hammering at her door accompanied by a scuffle and a hushed argument before the manic manservant burst into her chambers (pursued by her rather unamused sentry) and alerted her to Lancelot's fate. "Are you alright?"
As Lancelot nodded, he too approached the iron bars: "Yes, My Lady. I only hope that I did not bring you any more trouble."
"No. Of course not." Arwyn smiled softly, however her expression soon distorted into a guilt-ridden frown. "I should have seen this coming. I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologise for. Neither does Merlin." The man scolded before glancing down at his hands in shame. "What will happen to me?"
"Nothing." The princess rushed, a gentle sigh parting her lips as she continued. "I fear that the King will not change his mind. Having said that, I will do everything I can to ensure you are not harmed." Her stubbornness shone through her eyes as if they truly were a window into her soul. "You have my word."
And as quick as she had joined him, she was gone; leaving nothing but a whisper of hope in her wake. Although the man silently prayed that whatever plan she had running around in that obstinate mind of hers was not going to get her into trouble; proof that he did not truly know the young royal as many would argue that trouble was in fact her middle name.
The chorus of warning bells performed the soundtrack for the remainder of the day as the creature finally reached Camelot. The kingdom had felt very much like sitting ducks, waiting to be hunted for sport. As the blood flowed, seeping deep into the cracks between the stone slabs within the inner courtyards, hope began to diminish.
"It's a griffin. It can only be killed by magic and yet Uther thinks that Arthur is the exception." Sir Geralt had grumbled as he returned to check on her. Satisfying her curious mind as he paced back and forth. His sword swung low at his left hip and his light chain-mail clinked slightly each time he turned. A gloved hand stroked the stubble that roughened his jaw as he scoffed. "The man is a fool."
"Have you ever fought a griffin before?" The princess asked, her legs crossed beneath her as she took her usual spot on her windowsill.
"Nay. Hadn't heard of it before Gaius identified it."
"Then how do you know that it can only killed by magic?"
"Because the books declare it to be a creature born of magic. It was well known among the sorcerers in your father's council that conjuration…" The greying man paused his lesson as his attention was drawn to the absent-minded look on the young girl's face and the frown that began to manifest. "You're no longer listening." He concluded, crossing his arms against his chest with a raised brow.
"He cannot defeat it." She muttered, looking back to her knight - an undecipherable expression on her face; one that often appeared in relation to the young man. "And Uther is sending him out to his death." Standing abruptly, Arwyn swallowed and took a breath, raising her chin in decisiveness: "There's something I must do."
Darkness coated the kingdom and the princess had made up her mind. Helplessness was not a trait that she aspired to have associated with her. Therefore, she had concluded that whilst she may have no power over the outcome with the griffin there was at least one person that she could save.
And so, true to her word, Arwyn pulled on her dark green cloak. Her fingertips ran across the warm keys that she had stolen from the prince's chambers shortly after abandoning her guardian. In truth, the small brunette was unsure if her motives were for the man in the dungeons that she was willing to call a friend, or if they were a petty symptom of her incessant need to disobey the King. It could very well be argued that the difference in moral opinions and the opposite stance regarding magic was a driving force in much of the princess' rebellions, however in this case, she liked to believe that any good person would opt for the same course of action. That allowing freedom to a man whose only crime was the selfish pursuit of serving his king and protecting his people, was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. And yet, a small voice in her head pictured the fury on Sir Geralt's scarred face and wondered what her father would make of it; if he would be proud of her or if he would be disappointed with her propensity to leap before looking.
Time was scarce and so she forced the doubt that festered to the back of her mind and pulled the heavy hood over her head. For anyone who knew the castle, it was easy enough to navigate to the dungeons in the dark; however, the young royal knew the route like the back of her hand. In all the years since the prince and princess used to sneak a peek at the prisoners or find the abandoned corridors to evade their nurses, the King had not learned to rotate his guard postings - something that worked in her favour.
Her hands trembled slightly as she dipped the small pile of straw into a nearby torch. Allowing it to burn for a mere ten seconds, she blew out the flames with a determined expression barely visible in the darkness. To the most trained ears, the soft padding of her tiptoes could be heard very faintly as she approached the grate in the wall and stuffed the straw inside. Blowing as quietly as she dared, the princess forced the smoke to enter the dungeons. Hiding in the shadows, she waited until the guards ran past before beginning her descent down towards the cells.
"What are you doing?"
Her heart jolted as the voice broke the silence. Silently cursing, Arwyn spun around; almost toppling down the stairs whilst she squeaked: "Nothing." As his eyes trailed down to the set of keys in her hands, she cursed once more and thrust them behind her back as if playing to the childish belief that if you cannot see something, it is not there. However, the prince was far from fooled as he stepped closer to her. His breath fanning her face as he reached behind her back and took the metal from her hands. "Arthur, it's not what it looks like."
"Really?" Arthur hummed in response, raising a brow as he looked down at her. "Because to me, it looks like you stole my keys with the intention of releasing Lancelot."
Her sea-green eyes widened slightly as she realised she was trapped. Sighing gently, she looked deep into his eyes as if trying to search his heart for his next move. "Please, don't tell your…" She began, her voice barely audible as she clasped her hands in front of her.
"I was about to do the same." Arthur interrupted, watching as Arwyn opened her mouth to argue before her eyebrows knitted together and she comprehended what he had said. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as he tilted his head before heading down towards the cells. "And I wouldn't do that." He suddenly muttered, knowing that despite the long silence, the princess had followed him. As she sent him a questioning frown, he elaborated. "Throw you to my father with no regard. I would never do that." Her gaze immediately dropped to her feet; perhaps out of nervousness or speechlessness or perhaps to hide the subtle pink blush as she fought the grin that toyed with the dimples on her cheeks.
The door to the cell creaked open as the royals entered, prompting Lancelot to drop into a respectful bow; an action that Arwyn believed, only made him more endearing.
"I should have known. How could I have been so stupid?!" The prince exclaimed, venting his frustrations towards the brunette as he stood up straight. His cheeks flushed with anger and his nostrils flared as he continued: "You don't sound like a knight, you don't even look like a knight!" Arwyn stood quietly by the door, allowing Arthur to say his piece as Lancelot bowed his head in shame and apologised. "I'm sorry, too. Because, Lancelot, you fight like a knight. And I need...Camelot needs…"
Lancelot stood, eyes trained on his feet, and quietly took whatever words were thrown at him but as the prince trailed off, he looked up to him with a curious frown: "The creature?" He asked.
We could not kill it." Arwyn could hear the disappointment in Arthur's tone and knew how hard he was being on himself. "I've never faced its like."
"I faced it myself, Sire. Some days past. I struck it full square. I wondered how it endured."
The princess suddenly spoke up, drawing the attention of deep brown eyes. "It's a griffin." She concluded. Relaying everything she had heard from Sir Geralt. "It's born of magic and many believe that magic is the only thing that can destroy it." At this comment, her eyes went to the side of Arthur's face as he stared in front of him. As always, he was very aware of her but fought to protect the walls he had built around himself.
"Do you believe this?" Lancelot asked, his eyes wide as she glanced back at him and offered nothing but a helpless expression and a feeble shrug. Turning to the other man in the room, he repeated his question. "Do you believe this?"
"It doesn't matter what I believe. The use of magic is not permitted." The defeated tone in his reply caught the attention of his companions but nonetheless, the prince stood straight and affirmed: "The knights must prevail with steel and sinew alone."
"There is a horse waiting for you outside. I packed it with some provisions that should last you a few days." The princess informed, very much aware of the time that had passed since she had first executed her plan.
"Thank you, My Lady." Lancelot gushed, "Thank the both of you." However, his joy was short-lived as Arthur ordered him to take the horse and to never return. As his expression crumpled to one of distress, Arwyn truly felt for the man. "No, it is not my freedom I seek." He pleaded, shaking his head. "I only wish to serve with honour."
Arthur sighed, whispering: "I know."
"Then let me ride with you, Sire."
Observing the conflict on the Pendragon's face, Arwyn instinctively found herself moving to his side. Her arm brushing his as she crossed her hands in front of her and spoke the words that were needed. "I'm sorry, Lancelot. Your freedom is all that we can give you. The King knows nothing of this."
"I release you myself but I can do no more." Arthur finally spoke, nodding in agreement with the young woman beside him. "Now go. Before I change my mind."
The knights readied themselves in the square below them as they stood on the balcony. Few words had passed between them since Lancelot had left the kingdom and yet neither of them had motioned to leave the other's side. The heavy silence continued as the prince tightened the cuff of his gauntlet before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Her expression was passive but he knew from the slight tension at the corner of her lips that she was far from indifferent about the mission.
"Don't do it." She finally muttered, eyes flickering among the knights as they mounted their horses and awaited their leader. Turning to the man beside her, she spoke with all the conviction she could muster. "Don't ride out against it. It is a creature of magic and cannot be killed without it." Blinking once, her chest rose as she took a deep breath and swallowed the emotion that swarmed in her stormy eyes. "You'll die." The worry contorted her brow, no matter how hard she fought to maintain composure.
Arthur nodded once and looked out over his men as he simply responded with: "I have to try."
"Please, Arthur." The pleading tone caught him off guard as her eyes searched his expression. Drawing her tongue over her bottom lip, she looked away prompting him to take her hand in his to regain her attention. "We can find a sorcerer and…"
"Magic is forbidden, you know that."
Her eyes grew visibly darker as another emotion entered them. Arthur ran his thumb over the back of her hand as the frustration bubbled over: "And yet it seems to be the only thing that can save the kingdom in the war your father created!" His jaw clenched slightly on the left side, yet he refused to answer her. His lack of response surprised her. She wanted him to rise to her challenge. To argue with her. Perhaps somewhere in the back of her mind it made it easier to watch him go; after all, how can you worry about someone and harbour anger towards them at the same time? However, her flawed logic soon showed its cracks as she sighed and looked down at his hand that was still wrapped around her own. "Please, be careful."
Arthur smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes: "Careful, I might start thinking that you care about me." As she rolled her eyes gently he placed his free hand on her lower cheek, cradling her jawline as he grazed her face with the pad of his thumb; her eyes studying each microexpression that crossed his own. "I have to go." He whispered causing her to nod as a slight sigh parted her lips. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead, holding her in the closest way that social convention would allow; remaining there for a moment, perhaps remembering her. The softness of her skin, the feel of her hand in his and the smell of her hair. The little facial expressions she made whenever she thought no one was watching and the infuriating bullheadedness. Stepping backwards, he stared deep into her eyes as if trying to send her his deepest and darkest thoughts.
Nodding slowly, he separated from her and slowly walked away.
"It will be alright."
Arwyn's eyes remained fixed on the window of Morgana's chambers, just as they had been for the last hour: "You keep saying that." The princess muttered, pulling her hand from her chin as she turned to look at the older brunette who was perched on her bed. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"
Morgana smiled gently, "Can we pretend it's the former?" Forcing a smile, the princess nodded. "Can you sit down? You're making me tired."
Nodding again, Arwyn sat uncomfortably on the windowsill. Hours seemed to pass though it may have been minutes. Her eyes began to flicker shut as tiredness took over but soon a white flash caught her attention. Standing abruptly, she watched the white horse gallop through the gates accompanied by Lancelot on the brown mare that she had given him. A giant grin spread across her face as she let out the breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
"They did it." She exclaimed, turning to Morgana only to find her sound asleep. Smiling, the princess moved the dark curls from the young woman's face and pulled the white cotton blanket over her. As she stepped back, she blew out the candle and made her way to her own chambers to bed down for the night. Protected in the knowledge that the kingdom was safe once more.
That Arthur had returned unscathed.
