"I'll be back before you know it," Arthur says, leaning down to kiss Guinevere – again – before pulling her into his arms. His cape draped over them, he takes the opportunity to drop his hand to her stomach for a quick caress.
The queen is four months pregnant, and only just starting to show. She still fits into most of her gowns, but Sefa is careful not to lace her corsets as tightly.
"We'll make the announcement when I return," the king whispers, kissing his wife's cheek. They had been planning to share the news with the kingdom the next day, but other matters suddenly took precedence.
They received word of Odin's troops menacing a few of the border towns, burning food stores, "recruiting" men, and even, in a few cases, taking advantage of women. A message was sent to their king for aid, so their king decided he must give aid.
"All right," Guinevere replies, nodding. She moves closer to him, the crisp autumn air seeping into her bones. "Chainmail is so cold," she frowns, patting his mail-clad chest with her gloved hand.
"Sorry," Arthur answers, smiling apologetically.
Over his shoulder, she spies the men waiting with decreasing patience. "You should go. Your men are waiting, and it gets darker earlier every day."
"So eager for me to be off, my lady?" he asks, smiling impishly.
She returns his smile despite her sadness at his departure, remembering those are nearly the same words he said to her the first time they met.
He kisses her once more. When he pulls back, he sees the worry in her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak, but hesitates.
"I'll be careful," he quietly says, guessing her thought.
"For me," she shyly replies.
He caresses her cheek and nods. "Go back inside and get warm," he says. "I don't want you to take ill. Either of you," he adds with a grin.
She nods, stepping away and blinking back an inexplicable tear, hoping he doesn't notice. Evelyn did say I might be a bit more emotional.
Arthur waves to her from his horse, and Guinevere puts on a brave smile and waves back, nodding. She watches only Arthur, and does not notice the approving smiles from Merlin and the knights as they witness the open display of affection between their sovereigns. Guinevere heads back inside only after the men disappear from view.
xXx
"If I may speak freely, my lord?" Sir Leon asks, maneuvering his horse beside Arthur's. They have been traveling for just over an hour and are deep in the forest.
"Of course," the king answers. "What is on your mind?"
"Nothing bad. I merely wish to say how pleased I am that you and Queen Guinevere are getting along so well," Leon says. "You certainly seem well matched."
Arthur smiles. "Thank you. She is quite an amazing woman. When King Leodegrance first suggested the union, I will admit I was hesitant."
Leon nods. "Understandable."
"But, I can say with all honesty that I do not regret the decision at all. Guinevere is..." Arthur pauses, searching for the words that will properly convey his feelings about his wife to his knight and friend. "She has surpassed my expectations for a wife and queen in every way," Arthur says. "In time, when you all get to know her better, you will see how truly wonderful she is."
"We already see it, Sire," the knight answers. "We've known one another a long time, you and I," he adds.
"That we have, Leon," Arthur replies. "We were squires together. You were the only one who didn't put up with my prattish behavior," he chuckles.
"Only because my father told me I shouldn't," Leon admits. "He figured someone had to treat you like a regular person."
Arthur laughs. "I shall have to thank him for that."
Leon nods. "I only mention the length of our acquaintance to say I've never seen you like this before. With a woman, I mean." Arthur gives him a puzzled look, and he clarifies. "Not that you were a womanizer, Sire, far from it... I am simply saying I have never seen you so, um... smitten."
"Perhaps, I am," Arthur allows.
"You are very good to her," Leon says, smiling.
"She is very good to me," the king counters. "It seems only right I should treat her in kind. She is my wife. My partner in life. I see no reason to treat her as anything less than my equal simply because she is a woman."
"I agree," the knight nods. "I always think if the lady in question was my sister or mother, I wouldn't want her husband to treat her poorly."
"Or just be pushed aside, like Morgana," Arthur adds, frowning.
Leon nods thoughtfully. "I am not sure which would be worse. All I know is I would not wish Morgana's fate on anyone."
"Or, Queen Heloise's," Arthur adds. He's always felt sorry for Odin's queen. It is widely known that Odin treats her quite poorly.
"Indeed," Leon agrees. They ride silently, side by side, for a few minutes. "My father said Queen Guinevere is a true successor to Queen Ygraine. We all know how highly he thought of your mother. He said she would be proud to call Guinevere 'Daughter'," the knight bravely ventures. The king's mother is almost never discussed; a holdover from Uther's days as king when he forbade anyone from so much as mentioning her name. Most people are unsure about bringing her up to Arthur, and Leon almost didn't say anything, but risked it because he decided his friend would like to know.
Arthur sadly nods. The only knowledge he has of his mother is second-hand, having never known her himself. Lord Rudyard was, in his day, the Queen's Champion, and he held his queen in the highest regard. "That is high praise indeed," Arthur says at length.
"He... he did not feel comfortable telling you such a thing himself, Arthur," Leon says. "He may well be displeased with me for relaying his words."
The king smiles at his old friend. "Thinking of my mother always saddens me, but his sentiment makes me happy. Tell him 'Thank you'. Or, don't, if you do not wish to confess you told me."
"I haven't decided," Leon says. He clears his throat. "You're certain we should make for Longstead first?" he asks, switching to business.
"Yes. It stands to reason, based on the other villages that were attacked. Longstead would be the next logical place. Hopefully, we'll intercept them before they arrive. Then, we'll visit the other villages to see if there is anything we can do for them."
"Why couldn't Percival come with us again?" Gwaine asks from just behind them.
Arthur turns. "He asked to stay in Camelot," he answers. It's a half-truth, but it will suffice.
"He did?" Gwaine asks.
"Would you be keen on leaving for a dangerous mission with an infant son at home?" Leon counters. "Besides, someone should stay there to keep the queen safe."
Gwaine half-shrugs his assent. "Going to miss him if we get into heavy battle, but I see your point."
"Percival will be missed, yes, but I feel much more secure knowing he is there guarding the queen," Arthur says, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead. As Percival is still the only one of the knights who knows about Guinevere's pregnancy, he and the king agreed he would be the best man to remain behind.
"Well, I am the Queen's Champion," Leon points out, grinning, only bringing the matter up to irk Gwaine. The other knight had hoped to win the tournament in the queen's honor.
"Yes, but you're also my First Knight, and I need your careful planning skills," Arthur counters. He exchanges a sly look with Leon and adds, "Even though you did earn the title of Queen's Champion."
"By taking third place," Gwaine volunteers.
"Still did better than you," Leon shoots back.
"Only because you didn't face me," the other knight answers.
"If memory serves, Sir Lancelot defeated you, and I defeated Sir Lancelot. So, logically..."
Arthur laughs, his mind drifting back to that day, recalling how beautiful Guinevere looked seated in the royal box with Mithian and Morgana. She was wearing red. Her shoulders were bare. She leaned forward to take the ring from my lance, and the smile she gave me was different from the one she gave the others.
"Lancelot got lucky," Gwaine mutters. "Next tournament, I will get the upper hand."
"But, not my title," Leon answers.
xXx
"My lady, you should be resting," Gaius quietly recommends when he sees the queen walk past his open doors for the third time.
Guinevere stops and steps inside his quarters. As court physician, he is one of the small group of people who know about the queen's pregnancy.
"I know, but I am restless," she says, sitting in a chair.
Gaius smiles, understanding. "You haven't been apart since the wedding," he says.
"I miss him more than I anticipated I would," she admits. "Silly, really."
"Not at all," he answers. "He is your husband. It is natural that you would miss him. It's good that you do."
She nods. "I suppose what you say is true." She sighs, picking up a sprig of dried chamomile, twirling it between her fingers. "I know I cannot expect him to stay here when his men ride out. He is young, and their leader. He should go. I just... worry. I do not want him to get hurt. Odin's men are quite ruthless."
Gaius sits opposite the queen and smiles at her. "You have seen the king fight," he says.
"In the tournament, and in training," she replies, setting the flower aside.
The old man's bushy eyebrows rise. "Correct me if I am wrong, my lady, but wasn't there a bit of a scuffle on your journey here?"
She smiles and looks at her hands. "Yes. Two bandits. He saved my life," she says.
"My lady, I have known Arthur his entire life. I was there when he was born; I watched him grow and learn and become the fine young man he is today. I am only the court physician, a commoner, but I feel somewhat... grandfatherly towards him," Gaius says. Guinevere nods and he continues. "I always worry about Arthur when he goes into battle. I worry about him, Merlin, Leon... all the men. I am the one who has to patch them up and tend their wounds when they return. Sometimes, I am the one who has to say, 'There is nothing I can do for him' and simply make the wounded man comfortable so his passage isn't dreadful."
"That must be very difficult, Gaius. I am sorry," the queen says, placing her hand over his.
He nods. "It is a part of the job. But, I am telling you this to let you know that in all my years, of all the knights I've seen on the battlefield and in the tournament ring, never have I ever seen a warrior like Arthur."
"Truly?"
"I know it sounds like I am exaggerating, but I am not. Arthur... he knew his father would be proud of him if he was a good knight. Skilled in battle. He pushed himself to be better than all the others because he felt, as the prince, he should be." The old man sighs. "I probably should not tell you this, but... Uther was not the most attentive father. However, he paid attention to Arthur in regards to his training."
"Arthur has told me quite a bit about his father, yes," Guinevere says. She had already guessed that her husband's amazing skills in battle were likely developed to garner his father's approval. "I know he wasn't exactly... ideal."
Gaius slowly nods. "You are a very diplomatic queen, my lady," he says, a smile creeping across his weathered face. "And, while you are well within your rights to worry about your husband when he goes off to battle – even though I wouldn't really consider this a battle – you would do well to also have confidence in his abilities."
Guinevere looks down at her hands again, then up at the physician. "You are right, Gaius. I should have faith in him. I thought I did, honestly, but... I let my worry cloud my judgment."
The old man smiles. "There may be something else amplifying your concern, my lady."
"Yes, there is that as well," she admits, her hand absently straying over her stomach. "Thank you, Gaius. Your counsel is very helpful."
"You are very welcome, my lady. My door is always open for you," Gaius replies, smiling.
"Gaius, have you seen... oh. There you are, my lady," Percival's large form appears in Gaius' doorway. He steps inside. "Are you well?" he quietly asks.
Guinevere smiles and stands. "Yes, Percival, I was merely visiting with Gaius. I am quite well. You were looking for me?"
"Yes, my lady. There is... well, your presence is required in the throne room," the knight says, offering his arm.
"All right. Is there a problem?" she asks, taking the offered arm.
"I do not think so," he says. "It is one of the farmers from the edge of town."
"Oh. Thank you again, Gaius," she says. He nods in reply. The queen and knight leave the physician's quarters and head down the corridor to the throne room. "Percival," she says after a moment.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Why do you never wear sleeves?"
"Too tight, my lady," he answers.
"Surely, the royal seamstresses could fashion something that would not restrict your movement," she supplies. "That is, if you wish," she adds, not wanting him to think she disapproves of his appearance.
"Thank you, my lady, but I think I would find it most uncomfortable. I am too accustomed to moving about this way," he says, lifting his free arm. "I am rarely troubled by the cold, and, to be quite honest, it does rather intimidate my foes in battle," he adds with a chuckle.
She laughs with him. "Quite understandable. How is little Garrett faring? He is five months old now?"
"Yes, my lady. He is happy and healthy, thank you. Corliss would like to bring him for a visit soon, if it pleases you," Percival offers.
"I would like that very much, yes." Guinevere chuckles and softly adds, "I think Lady Corliss and I will have much to talk about."
"Indeed, my lady," the knight agrees.
xXx
The mood in the town of Longstead is understandably quite an anxious one. The people had heard the reports from the other towns, and the village elders had reached the same conclusion as Arthur and Leon: Longstead is next.
Arthur's party had circled around and approached the town from the west, figuring Odin's men would be arriving from the east. They didn't want to be spotted by their foes.
However, they are spotted by some children, who go running for their parents, yelling excitedly the entire time.
"Nothing for it really," Arthur chuckles, watching them scampering into the town ahead of them. He deliberately slows their progress to give the children the opportunity to tell their exciting news.
They are met by two older men. Arthur stops his horse, dismounts, and walks towards them. They both bow respectfully, recognizing their king. "I have received a request for aid," Arthur says, looking at the two men, then turning his gaze towards the village. "It appears we have arrived in time."
"Yes, Sire," one man answers. "Thank you for coming. I am John, and this is Byram. We're two of the village elders. You must be hungry from your travels. If you would follow me, my wife will have food and drink for you."
"I do not wish to inconvenience you," Arthur says. "We can set up camp outside the western part of town."
"My lord, I am the innkeeper here," John presses. "You would honor us by your presence." He looks towards the men. "However, I don't think I have rooms enough for all your men," he adds, frowning.
Leon and Gwaine step forward. "Bors says he and the men will set up camp just beyond the edge of the forest, out of sight. We will all go to the inn for food and planning," Leon says.
"And, we will take three rooms," Arthur says, not keen to deprive the innkeeper of any income. "If you have them."
"Yes, Sire. Of course, Sire," John nods enthusiastically at the prospect of the king staying at his inn.
"Lead the way, my good man," Arthur instructs. "Merlin," he calls over his shoulder, and his servant comes forward, a large satchel over his shoulder.
"Do I get a room?" Merlin quietly asks.
"If you're lucky, you can sleep on the floor in mine," Arthur replies.
"Well, it won't be lumpy ground. And, it's indoors," the servant allows with a light shrug.
"Too bad Odin's men will be attacking tonight," the king returns, no longer smiling.
"You think so?" Merlin asks.
"I would bet your life on it," Arthur answers.
"So, not completely certain then," Merlin says with a snort.
Arthur huffs a short laugh and follows John inside. The king looks around the inn. It's cozy and clean, with a warm fire in a large fireplace at one end. The tables are spotless and the floor is not sticky or dirty. There is a pleasant smell of bread and roasted meat in the air. He finds himself thinking of his Guinevere and her wish to one day stay at an inn. This would be just the sort of place I would bring her. I have been in many such establishments, and this is one of the cleanest.
I miss her quite a bit. The realization hits him quite suddenly.
"Mary!" John calls. "We have guests, Love!"
xXx
"Her Royal Highness, Queen Guinevere," Percival announces her majesty's arrival in the throne room.
She walks in on Percival's arm, and the people gathered there, mostly men, bow respectfully as she passes. There aren't many, perhaps a dozen courtiers, a few servants, and the farmer. He has a young boy with him who looks rather overwhelmed, his blue eyes wide as he stares at the queen, forgetting to bow until his father nudges his shoulder.
Guinevere smiles at him and he turns bright pink. She sits on her throne, trying not to think of the empty one beside her.
One of the council members speaks. "My lady, this is Bavol and his son, Keaton. He is a farmer who lives on the north end of town. He—"
The queen holds up her hand. "Thank you, Lord Audric. I am sure Bavol is quite capable of speaking for himself," she says.
"Yes, my lady." Audric nods and steps back.
"Step forward Bavol and Keaton. With what can we help you?" Guinevere asks.
Bavol twists his hat in his hands, nervous. He bows. "My lady," he quietly starts, then clears his throat. "There was an accident at our farm two nights ago. A fire. It was... it was no one's fault, my lady... an accident, like I said... but we lost much."
Guinevere nods, remembering the plume of smoke. "I am very sorry, Bavol. What did you lose?"
"About half of our food stores for the winter, my lady. One foolish milk cow that refused to move. The barn needs a lot of repairs," Bavol replies, listing his losses. "Lost a pig, too, but we were able to salvage most of it for food."
The queen nods again. "Geoffrey," she calls, and the record-keeper steps forward. "Bring me the reports on the grain stores, please."
Geoffrey nods. "Yes, my lady."
"Thank you, my lady, but I do not wish to ask for charity without giving anything in return," Bavol says while they wait for Geoffrey to return.
"Oh?" she asks, interested.
Bavol taps his son on the shoulder. Keaton steps forward and bows. "My son is small for his age, but he is nearly a man, my lady. We offer his services to the castle and humbly request employment for him so that he may earn some coin to help us rebuild our barn."
Guinevere looks at the boy. "Is this what you wish?" He says nothing, his face turning redder by the moment. "You may speak freely, Keaton. I promise I will not bite you," she says, smiling impishly at him.
"I would like to work with the horses, please, my lady," Keaton says. His voice is so quiet she almost doesn't hear him.
Geoffrey returns with a scroll, and when he hands it to the queen she whispers a question to him. He nods and exits again.
"Horses are wonderful," the queen says, not yet opening the scroll. "I brought my horse with me when I came here. She's a white mare called Lavender, and I am very happy I could bring her along. The king's horse is a majestic brown stallion called Captain." She smiles, thinking back to a week ago, when she and Arthur had gone for a leisurely ride in the forest together. He had surprised her by having Merlin pack a small picnic for them.
Keaton grins. "I like the king's horse."
"So does the king," Guinevere replies. Then, she leans forward and loudly whispers, "But, I think Captain likes me better. He lets me feed him apples and he doesn't even nip me."
Keaton's grin widens and he looks down at his feet.
The queen keeps her smile from widening into a grin as Arthur's voice drifts into her memory. "Are you going to stroke my nose and feed it to me, too?"
Geoffrey returns, now quite out of breath. He simply nods at the queen.
"It seems we have room for one more stable boy," she declares. "If this is what you truly wish to do, Keaton." She poses the question again, wanting to make certain the boy's parents are not forcing him to work against his will.
"Oh, yes, my lady!" the boy excitedly answers. He looks up at his father, and the older man smiles and ruffles his son's hair.
The queen nods. "Excellent. Now," Guinevere turns her attention to the parchment scroll in her lap. "Just as I thought," she declares, looking at the figures. "It seems we have more than enough, if my estimations are correct." She beckons Geoffrey forward again, and he steps over with a blank parchment and a quill. The queen gives him some instructions, which he writes down. "Have you a cart?" she asks the farmer.
Bavol nods. "Yes, my lady." The anxious farmer unconsciously twists his hat as he awaits the queen's next words.
"Geoffrey will escort you to the stores. He will give you some supplies which should hold you for a good portion of the winter. That, combined with the new income from Keaton, should see you through to the spring."
"Thank you very much, my lady. I know we will be able to purchase more supplies in time, but... thank you. This will hold us until we can buy more," Bavol says, nearly crying now.
"Geoffrey, if there is any spare wood or other building materials – do make certain they are spare, mind – please offer them to him," she quietly instructs, handing him the scroll of parchment.
"Yes, my lady," Geoffrey answers. He takes the scroll and looks at his notes, making sure the writing is dry.
"Keaton, are you able to begin work today?" Guinevere asks.
The boy nods enthusiastically.
"Very good," she replies. "Sir Alston, would you show Keaton to the stables? I daresay Tyr will be happy to take him under his wing."
"Yes, my lady," the knight replies.
Keaton quickly hugs his father, then steps over to the knight, following him out of the throne room.
"Thank you again, my lady. My Letha is going to be so pleased," Bavol says, bowing again.
"You are most welcome, Bavol. Best of luck to you," she says.
Geoffrey steps over to the farmer. "Follow me, please," he says.
Guinevere quietly sighs as she watches them walk out, hoping she did the right thing but keeping her face carefully neutral. I hope I did what Arthur would have done. He cares about his people. I wish he were here.
"That was well-handled, my lady," Lord Rudyard is the first to speak up.
"Thank you, Lord Rudyard," she answers. "Are there any other matters of court this afternoon?" she asks.
"No, my lady," Lord Audric steps forward and answers. "The farmer's request was unscheduled, but since it seemed urgent and you were available, we decided to allow it."
The queen raises an eyebrow at his word choice. They decided to allow it? The poor man had a fire! "That was the correct decision, Lord Audric," she says, her voice authoritative enough to convey her irritation that he considered turning Bavol away.
"Yes, my lady," Audric answers after a moment, looking a bit cowed. Rudyard turns slightly away and coughs into his sleeve.
Guinevere stands, and Percival is there in an instant, his hand offered to guide her down the few steps from the dais. She thanks him, then takes his arm and exits the throne room.
"I should like to rest now, Percival," she says once they are well into the corridor.
"I am not surprised," the knight answers. "If I may, you should have been resting when I came looking for you earlier, my lady."
She sighs. "I know. Sefa has been fretting over me all day, too. I just..."
"You miss the king," he simply says.
"Is it that obvious?" she asks, looking up at him.
"Only because I am a married man myself, my lady."
"He just left this morning," she says. "I feel so silly."
"Corliss once told me that every time I leave, she feels like she dies a little inside," he tells her. "She says it doesn't matter if it is a hunting trip or a war; there's always a chance I won't come back."
Guinevere nods. She understands completely, but the giant knight's validation of her feelings doesn't lift her spirits.
"Not very reassuring, I know, but I will tell you this: I have always returned to my wife. I might be a little beaten up sometimes, but I always come home. And, do you know why I always do?" he asks, stopping outside the doors to the royal chambers.
"Because, you know you have a wife at home waiting for you? And now, a son?" Guinevere asks.
"Well, that's certainly part of it. I am definitely motivated to stay alive for them," he says, smiling. "Yet, Arthur always makes sure we come home. Do we lose men in battle? Yes, we do. But, our losses are always far fewer than those of our enemies. That is why he trains us so relentlessly. Not only because he wants us to be a formidable army, but also because he knows we have people who are waiting for us to come home. We aren't his soldiers, we are his men. This is the biggest difference between Arthur and Uther. Uther was more interested in the material wealth of the kingdom. Arthur values people above all else, because without people, there is no kingdom. The people are what make the kingdom prosper."
Guinevere smiles. Arthur is right. Percival is much more talkative on his own. "Thank you, Percival. Your words have helped quite a bit."
"Do not worry about the king, my lady," Percival says, opening the door for her. "He will come home to you, safe and whole."
"Yes. I think he will," she replies, placing her hand on his arm for a moment before stepping inside. She turns back. "Corliss is a lucky woman to have a husband such as yourself," she says.
He smiles and blushes. "Thank you, my lady, but I am the lucky one."
"You are both fortunate," the queen counters, returning his smile.
Percival nods. "Shall I find Sefa for you, my lady?"
Guinevere shakes her head. "That won't be necessary, thank you. I know where she is," she says. "I plan on staying here for the rest of the afternoon and evening, so you will not need to attend me until tomorrow."
"Very good, my lady. I hope your rest is pleasant." The knight bows and turns, giving the guards posted outside a pointed look as he passes. They endeavor to appear more attentive in response.
Guinevere closes the doors and walks to the small one leading to her private chambers. "Sefa," she softly calls, stepping inside.
The maidservant looks up from her work. "Oh! What can I do for you, my lady?" she asks, starting to stand.
"Please, sit," the queen instructs. She comes over and looks at what her maid is doing. "Your script is very good. Very neat. Well done."
"Thank you, my lady," Sefa replies, smiling.
"Have you tried reading the book I gave you?"
"I have, but I am struggling with some of the words," she admits.
"I will help you with them after dinner," Guinevere says. "I need to rest for a short while. I do not need your assistance now, but please do not let me sleep too long."
"Yes, my lady. Will you be taking dinner in the royal chambers?" the maid asks.
"Yes, I think so, thank you," the queen answers, and turns to leave. She walks through the main chamber, removes her slippers, and lies down on the bed.
It seems so big without him here.
xXx
Arthur's prediction is correct. Odin's men wait until the cover of nightfall to attack Longstead.
Fortunately, the Knights of Camelot and some willing and able villagers are strategically hidden around the town, ready for them. Arthur, Leon, Gwaine, and a few others are hidden on the eastern end, intending to be the first to intercept Odin's men. The rest of the villagers are gathered in a few homes nearest the town's center, hiding quietly.
"If, by the grace of some benevolent god, Odin is among them, he is mine," Arthur says, his voice a near whisper.
"Yes, Sire," Leon answers.
"I do not intend to kill him," Arthur clarifies. "It is my hope that he will be open to negotiations."
"Yeah, you hold onto that hope, Arthur," Gwaine says, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
"I must," Arthur says. "I—" He suddenly stops talking and holds his hand up. The men fall silent and adjust their posture. Fingertips graze sword handles. Anticipation hangs heavily in the air.
Odin's men seem to materialize out of the darkness, moving nearly silently as they attempt a sneak attack on Longstead, unaware that they've been out-sneaked.
Arthur easily takes out the first man within reach, and the silence is broken by shouts of surprise from the attackers.
The king sees a man gesture to some others to find another way in. He grins, knowing that no matter which way the intruders attempt to enter the village, they will be met, and hopefully blocked, by his knights.
Arthur makes his way to the man who seems to be giving the orders, slashing, thrusting, and occasionally punching his way through. He grabs the man by the neck. "Where is Odin?" he snarls, fending off a would-be attacker while maintaining his hold on the enemy captain.
"Piss off," the man spits, struggling.
Arthur holds his sword to the man's throat. "Odin. Is he among you?"
"He's gone to Camelot... to..." he growls, still attempting to break free, "to bugger your queen..."
Arthur isn't surprised to discover this knight (he hesitates to even call him a "knight") recognizes him, and he knows the man is bluffing, but it makes his blood boil nevertheless. He sticks the point of his sword into the man's neck just enough to let him know he means business.
Another man attacks, his sword descending towards the king, but Gwaine's blade stops it before it makes contact. He kicks the attacker in the stomach, grins at Arthur, then dives after his target.
"My king..." the captain rasps, refusing to cry out in pain, even as Arthur twists his arm at an odd angle, "...will be interested to know you were here... attempting to defend this pathetic excuse for a... aah! village..."
"Your king sent you to do his dirty work out in the cold while he sits in his castle on his large backside in front of a warm fire," Arthur growls in the other man's ear. "Yet, I am here with my men, leading them. And, I will continue to defend my kingdom until he has run out of pawns to throw at me. Tell him that... if you make it back to him."
"Go ahead... kill me," he says.
Arthur sighs and knocks the man out, tossing him towards the forest. "Leave him alive," he says, looking around to see most of the fighting has stopped. Some of Odin's men stopped when they saw King Arthur had their captain. Others were either knocked out or killed. Still others retreated when it became clear that Longstead would not be taken this night.
"Why are you leaving him alive?" a villager asks, nudging the unconscious captain with his foot.
"I gave him a message for Odin," Arthur simply says. "Shall we place wagers on whether or not he delivers it, or even remembers it when he wakes?" he asks, walking around, surveying the damage to the area.
"Put me down for 'No'," Gwaine says, wandering forward. "Do you know you're bleeding?" he asks the king.
"Am I?" Arthur asks. "Where?"
"There," the knight points to Arthur's left arm. "It's dripping out of your sleeve."
Arthur lifts his arm and sees his sleeve has been rent and there is a gash in his forearm. "Huh. So it is. I would have noticed it when it started hurting," he says. "All right. We've got work to do. Any of Odin's men who are still alive should be brought over here," he instructs, pointing to the edge of the forest just east of town. "We'll tie them all to a tree, just to further delay them. Where is Leon?"
"Here, Sire," the tall knight steps forward. He's got a black eye, but otherwise seems intact. Arthur raises his eyebrows. "Lucky shot." He shrugs.
Arthur chuckles. "Take some men and horses and circle the perimeter. Make sure all threats have been dealt with."
"Yes, Sire," Leon nods, gestures to a few men, and heads off.
"Gwaine, check with Merlin and see to the villagers. Then, come back here and help us move these bodies," Arthur says.
Gwaine nods. "Bet you wish Percival were here now," he says.
Arthur simply shakes his head and goes about his task. If I wished anyone were here, it would be Guinevere. He stops, looks at the mess around him, and amends his thought. No. I wish I were home with Guinevere. This is no place for her right now.
Still, I miss her. I miss her soft touch and her kind words. Her laughter and how her dark eyes flash with mirth... and desire.
"Arthur?" Gwaine's voice snaps him out of his reverie.
"Yes?" the king turns.
"Villagers are good. Merlin is telling stories to the children who refuse to go to sleep."
"I'm sure that will help," Arthur chuckles.
"Sire?"
"Have you heard some of Merlin's stories? The man is obsessed with dragons. It's not healthy."
xXx
Queen Guinevere has decided she no longer likes to dine alone. She very nearly asks Sefa to sit and join her. Her eyes drifted to Arthur's empty chair again and again, and though she had little appetite, she dutifully ate because she needs to for their child.
After dinner, as promised, she helps Sefa with her studies until her eyes grow tired.
"Would you like a bath tonight, my lady?" Sefa asks.
"Perhaps, tomorrow," Guinevere answers. "I think I will just retire." Alone.
"Very good, my lady."
Sefa helps the queen prepare for bed and exits, her heart a little sad at seeing how much her mistress misses her husband.
Guinevere lies awake in bed, her thoughts on Arthur, hoping he is safe and warm, praying to every god she can think of for his safe return. After a minute, she rolls over to his side of the bed and presses her face into his pillow.
Eventually, she drifts off to sleep, on Arthur's side of the bed.
xXx
Sunrise is not far off by the time Arthur and his knights finally find their beds. Arthur, Leon, and Gwaine take their rooms at the inn, and the rest of the men head to their camp to bunk down for a few hours' rest before they head off to survey the next village.
Arthur's room has two beds, so Merlin is not required to sleep on the floor; something for which he is quite grateful.
"Do you think Odin will stop now?" the servant asks his master, staring at the embers of the fire in the darkness.
"Well, we've slowed him down significantly," Arthur answers. "Most of his men are injured or have fled. Some are dead. His captain is tied to a tree and won't be returning to his king any time soon."
"Hopefully, he'll take the hint and back off. I don't understand what he's after."
"Power. Camelot doesn't have anything Odin doesn't."
"You have a better army."
"True," Arthur allows. "But, that only means we can defeat him in battle, which makes no sense. Despite my father's mishandling of the kingdom in the last year of his rule, Camelot is still strong. We are a large kingdom, too. Land equals power. It's a simple as that."
"Seems pretty stupid," Merlin assesses.
Arthur laughs. "It is," he agrees. "But, such is politics. At times. Just because a person is royalty does not necessarily mean he or she is kind or intelligent."
Merlin joins his laughter. "Right. Take you, for example," he teases. A flying pillow lands on his face. "Thank you. I can use another one." He goes quiet for a few moments, making himself comfortable with his additional pillow. "I guess it's a good thing the queen is so good and wise."
"Go to sleep, Merlin," Arthur sighs. He turns over, reaching his hand out to the empty spot next to him on the bed, his fingers idly running over the sheet. It's not their bed, but he still misses her warmth beside him. He reaches into his tunic and pulls out the silken handkerchief he discovered tucked into his satchel when he changed clothes. I wish I had found it sooner. He brings it to his nose and inhales, relishing the lavender-and-honeysuckle scent of his wife. He curls onto his side and keeps the token close to his face as he finally relaxes enough to find sleep.
xXx
Arthur and his men are gone for nearly three days. They visited two villages on the second day and one more on the third before heading home.
Guinevere was kept busy enough running the kingdom, but missed her husband more with each day. The Council meeting was productive and the Lords were as respectful as always, but she missed Arthur's leadership. She took a walk in the garden and could hear the new recruits training, but it sounded all wrong without Arthur's authoritative voice ringing out.
She found she wasn't worrying as much, bolstered by Gaius and Percival, but she still longed for Arthur. It wasn't until she saw him return in the late afternoon of the third day that she realized why she missed him so terribly.
"My lady!" Sefa says, bursting into the royal chambers without knocking. "Oh!"
Guinevere was already walking towards the door, having seen the scout from her seat by the window. "They've been spotted?" she asks, just for confirmation. She could not hear the scout's words, but decided to be optimistic.
"Yes. They should be arriving soon," the maidservant answers. She knows how anxious her mistress has been for the king's return and came running as soon as she heard the news.
They meet Percival in the corridor. "Oh. You've heard," he says, smiling and stepping out of the way to avoid being run over by the petite queen. "My lady! You should have a cloak!" he calls after her, seeing that she has rushed past him with nothing to keep her warm.
"I'll get it," Sefa says, running into the room, grabbing the queen's heavy woolen cloak, and running back to catch up to Guinevere and Percival. She doesn't get a chance to place it over the queen's shoulders until they are standing in the courtyard.
"Thank you, Sefa," Guinevere absently says, her eyes glued to the gates.
"Oh, dear, I forgot your gloves, my lady," Sefa frets.
"It's all right," the queen answers. "Sefa, you have no cloak," she adds, finally looking at her maid. "Please go back inside. It is cold and damp today, and I do not want you to fall ill."
"Yes, my lady," Sefa curtseys.
Guinevere looks at the gates once more, then back to her maid. "Sefa," she calls.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Would you please have preparations made for a bath for the king? He will likely want one," she instructs.
"Of course, my lady," Sefa answers, scurrying away.
"Good idea, my lady," Percival says. "The king will appreciate a bath."
Guinevere smiles and opens her mouth to speak, but Arthur appears and steals her words. His eyes immediately find her and his handsome face breaks into a tender smile.
I love him.
The realization washes over her quite suddenly, and her knees weaken slightly.
She vaguely registers Percival's strong, steadying hand on her elbow, but her attention is on her husband.
Merlin is chattering on about something, but his voice reduces to background noise as Arthur watches his wife. Was she this beautiful when I left? He stops his horse near the stable hands, leaps down, and quickly strides over to Guinevere. She should not be out in this weather. "Guinevere," he says, opening his arms to receive her. "I missed you," he murmurs into her hair, holding her tightly.
"I missed you so much, Arthur," she answers, ignoring the cold bite of his chainmail against her skin. She feels his gloved fingertips touching her chin and lifts her head to receive his kiss.
"Let's go inside," he says. "I don't like you being out in this dampness."
She nods, and though she is reluctant to leave his embrace, she steps back and takes his hand. "There are some matters of state with which I dealt in your absence, but nothing that cannot wait," she tells him as they walk inside.
"Good, since I really do not wish to hear about any matters of state right now. There is much to tell you about what happened at the border, but it, too, can wait. We will discuss all of those topics tomorrow," Arthur says. "I wish to spend the rest of the day with my wife."
"I like that idea," Guinevere agrees.
They walk to the royal chambers, followed by Merlin, and the queen smiles when she sees the tub set up and water already being brought in.
"Guinevere, did you...?"
"I thought you might wish for a bath," she says. "Is... is that all right?"
"It's perfect," he answers, peeling off his gloves and tossing them on the table. He brings his hands up to cup her face. "You are perfect," he adds, softly kissing her.
Merlin and Sefa bustle around them and pages swoop in and out with buckets, but neither the king nor queen pays them any mind. Guinevere unfastens Arthur's cloak. He removes it, then removes his wife's cloak.
He moves close to his wife and lightly touches her stomach. "How are you?" he asks, his voice soft and edged with concern.
"I am fine, Arthur," she answers, smiling and putting her hand over his. His worry for her makes her heart swell further, but she shies away from confessing her feelings, still a little unsure of how he will respond. "We are both fine. Percival took good care of us, but we were a bit lonely."
"I hated to be away from you during this time," he replies.
"Better now than in five months," she says, stroking his cheek with her thumb. She spies Sefa standing to one side, clearly waiting. "Yes, Sefa?" she turns towards her maidservant.
"My lady, the king's bath is ready," Sefa quietly says.
"Thank you, Sefa. That will be all," Guinevere answers. Sefa curtseys and disappears.
Guinevere waits while Merlin helps Arthur with his armor and chainmail. An idea forms, but she's not certain she's brave enough to follow it through until her mouth opens and the words are tumbling out.
"Merlin," she says, and the servant turns to her.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Please bring our dinner here in an hour," she instructs, hoping he understands he is being dismissed.
Merlin looks slightly confused, but Arthur comes to the rescue. "That will be all for now, Merlin," he says, pulling off his second boot.
The servant looks from Arthur to Guinevere then back again, blinks once, nods, and says, "Very good, Sire." He turns towards the door and briskly exits.
Arthur walks towards his wife on silent, bare feet. "Will you be attending my bath, my lady?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"If it pleases my lord," she answers with more confidence than she feels. She knows she is blushing but tries not to care.
"It does," he replies. "Very much." Now that they are alone, he pulls her fully into his arms and kisses her thoroughly, his tongue immediately seeking hers out, his hands roving her back. One slides down to her backside, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Your water is going to get cold," Guinevere whispers. "We have the rest of the night for... other things."
"Indeed," Arthur agrees. He pecks her lips, then steps back and pulls off his shirt before walking to the side of the tub. He shucks his trousers and steps into the soothingly hot water.
Guinevere pulls up a low stool, sits beside him, pushes up her sleeves, and reaches for the soap. It is the special soap she commissioned for him from Fira. She received the first bars two months ago, and Arthur immediately loved them. The king and queen now each have a standing order with the soapmaker.
She dips the cloth in the water and notices the cut on his forearm. It has been cleaned and doesn't look too bad, but it still gives her pause. "You're injured," she says, soaping the cloth and bringing it to his shoulder.
"Just a scratch," he answers. "It isn't deep. I didn't even realize I had been cut until the fighting was done."
She peers closely at the wound. "I will have Merlin bring something from Gaius for it," she says. "It is a little red."
"As you wish, my sweet," he says. He closes his eyes and allows her to work, never enjoying his bath quite so much. "I have missed your touch, Guinevere," he softly admits, reaching one hand up to cover hers. He kisses the back of it.
"You're going to get soap in your mouth," she whispers, watching as he smoothes the sudsy water from her wrist to kiss her pulse point.
"I don't care," he replies, kissing the spot once more just for emphasis. Then, he releases her hand so that she may continue her task. He leans forward to allow her to wash his back, then rests against the edge of the tub and closes his eyes. This is amazingly wonderful. She is amazingly wonderful. "Is it too much to hope for to always be welcomed home in such a manner?" he sighs.
"I know it is too much for me to hope that you will never leave, but I do not think it will be an inconvenience for me to welcome you home in a manner that pleases you," she answers with a slight smile. She dips the cloth below the water, determined to not be embarrassed when her hand moves lower.
"Oh... take care there, Wife," Arthur groans. "Three days is a long time to be away from you."
Guinevere softly gasps at his bold implication, moving her hand away to re-soap the cloth. She moves on to his legs next. "We have the rest of the evening to make up for lost time, Husband," she quietly answers. She feels her cheeks growing warm, and knows it is not caused by the steam rising from her husband's bath water.
Arthur moves, sloshing the water a bit, and leans up to kiss her neck. "Indeed, we do," he answers.
