A/N – Hellohellohello! Good to see you all again!
I've been quite busy lately with homework, but I'm sure my psychology teacher will understand that fanfiction is more important than studies on prejudice.
Hope you enjoy the chapter!
"The true paradises are the paradises that we have lost." - Marcel Proust
"I'll leave that to you to decide."
Arthur stopped his horse. He looked up at the blue sky. It was the blue of lagoons and forget-me-nots, a newborn baby's eyes and a butterfly's wings all combined to create a majestic sweep of colour.
The sounds of a lute and a flute combined to create a twisting melody that seemed to originate from the trees themselves.
Breathing in, he could smell pine trees and freshness and life.
He simply sat, savouring it all, the happiness and perfection of that moment. Then, he turned to look behind him.
"Order! Order!" Leon barked at the loud rabble surrounding the round table.
"We demand food!" A merchant shouted, his hands spread palms-downwards on the table.
"How are we supposed to live?" A woman with a long brown plait asked, more calmly than the farmer next to her. "We depend on the carts."
Tarrian finally looked up from the dragon he had been carving into the wooden table. He really wasn't cut out for this. An army? A tyrant? Easy. But angry peasants, probably only a day away from bringing out the pitchforks?
He'd had enough.
"Silence!" He boomed. "You all know well enough that Leon can't do any more about the supply train delay than you can. As Sir Leon has told you, we sent a rider down yesterday and he returned saying that the carts were stuck in a boggy patch caused by the rain. They will be here in a few days, so I would appreciate it if you would stop panicking, and think for a moment." He looked around at the now silent peasants. "We can survive comfortably on the grain reserves until they arrive. I would appreciate it if you would let your customers in the lower town know this, as earlier I heard of rumours being spread of an outbreak of plague causing all the food-sellers to die instantly. If we have an uprising on our hands because of you, I will personally make sure that the rumours become truth."
Silence echoed around the room.
"I believe that will be all?" Tarrian asked, in a voice that suggested that anyone who dared say otherwise would be immediately decapitated.
He sat back down and carved a crooked smile onto the dragon's face as the hurried footsteps of the fleeing peasants died away.
Leon sat down heavily next to him and grinned.
Morgana had never felt so weak. She could do nothing to harm the taunting guards, who visited every day like clockwork.
She was lying on her bed, a ragged blanket covering her. Footsteps sounded in the corridor but she didn't bother to look up. Probably the guards again.
"Morgana."
She sat up sharply. It was Merlin.
"Hello again, my darling."
Gwen's voice sounded so real that Arthur was sure he couldn't be dreaming. He couldn't be.
"Gwen-" He started to say, but his voice caught in his throat.
"It's okay, Arthur, you don't have to speak," Gwen laughed. "I know this is a surprise. I have come to tell you that you must stop grieving for me, and take control of the kingdom once more."
"But I can't. Everything I look at reminds me of you. The throne in the corner that once was yours. The dresses in the wardrobe I can't bear to move. I can't go back." Arthur had dismounted his horse, and was slowly pacing through the lush forest, hand-in-hand with Gwen.
She turned to him and smiled, cupping his face with one hand. "My brave, brave king. I know this is hard for you, but you must not think of yourself. This is the duty of a king. You must move on."
Morgana narrowed her eyes and hunched her shoulders, chains clinking as she moved.
"Morgana. I want to talk." Merlin dragged a chair up to the bars and sat down, groaning slightly as he did so.
"I see you were wounded in the battle." Morgana commented with a note of satisfaction in her voice.
"I was stabbed in the shoulder. It's healing well, if you're inter-"
"I don't care. Leave me."
"No. I want to talk. I will wait here until you're ready." Merlin looked straight at her until she felt she would ignite if someone didn't break the silence.
"I will talk to you, if you'll remove these." She shook the chains.
"No. Why didn't you just kill Arthur when you took the castle? In fact, why didn't you just kill me?"
Morgana set her jaw and said nothing. Merlin glanced over to a cell further down the corridor, where a faint thud came from behind the door. Morgana followed his line of vision and stared at the door.
"That'll be Tarrian interrogating Ignitrus. You know, I was the one that treated you after he attacked you. You were bleeding everywhere."
Another thud and a faint moan.
Merlin winced and folded his arms, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. Appearance was everything. "They've been discussing your interrogation. Tarrian wanted to start a few days ago, but I asked to try the gentle approach first. Are you sure that you aren't going to talk?"
Morgana's blank expression had evolved into a slightly worried one.
"I-" She began.
One final thud and another noise that sounded a lot like someone collapsing.
"Oh dear," Merlin sighed. "It seems Tarrian is finished in there. He'll be here next." He got up as if he was going to leave.
"No, no! Wait! I'll talk!" Morgana's eyes widened as Merlin stopped.
"Now, that's more like it."
Gwaine pushed open the heavy door to Arthur's chambers and stepped inside. To his surprise, the king was washed and shaved.
"Arthur!" He exclaimed incredulously. In the past few weeks, Gwaine had never seen Arthur so positive. He walked forward to the table where Arthur was sitting, bent over some parchment.
"What are y- oh." He said, seeing what was drawn on the parchment.
It was a picture of Gwen. Every detail was perfect, from the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth to the dark curls that hung around her shoulders.
Arthur looked up at Gwaine and smiled.
Half an hour later, Merlin left Morgana shaking in her cell and walked down the corridor. He unlocked Ignitrus' cell and stepped inside. Tarrian stood in the corner, smiling. Ignitrus was on the bed, completely unharmed. A battered training dummy with the stuffing trailing out was lying on the ground.
"Thank you for your help, my friend," said Merlin. He turned to Ignitrus, "and thank you for your co-operation. Those groans were very realistic."
"Did it work? Did you find anything out?" Tarrian said.
"It worked beautifully, my friend. We must gather the knights for a meeting."
A/N – And another chapter completed!
In the scene with the peasants at the start, I was going to have the peasants argue more but Tarrian was like "lol, no", and just took over the scene.
I'm probably going to start updating weekly, with Tuesday as my publishing day.
See you all soon!