Author's Note: I must have rewritten this chapter about a thousand times and there have been so many scenes that I have cut in an attempt to make it shorter so, I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you all think, your reviews mean the world to me.
Chapter 9: The Beginning of the End
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.
"Can I…"
"No." The gruff knight interrupted without bothering to look up from the straps of leather knotted between his calloused fingers.
"You don't even know what I was about to ask." Her arms crossed defiantly over her chest as she turned to face her protector, met only by a single raised brow. The princess sighed. "But I am oh so heartbroken, and it would make me feel so much better." Her nostrils flared lightly as she refrained from stomping her foot like a petulant child; Sir Geralt simply ignored her. This time, with feigned downheartedness, the princess sighed gently. "I suppose you are right." Glancing at the man out of the corner of her eye, she continued - misery lacing her tone. "Do you think we could leave tomorrow? I know that I said I would give it longer, but I am sure that my Father will understand when he sees how devastated I am."
An amused snort erupted from the greying man as he shook his head and finally looked up at the young woman as she stood over him with an expression of false sorrow: "How long are you going to keep this up?"
"Can I…?"
"No."
Her hand clutched her chest as she threw herself into her chair, dramatically, and gasped: "I cannot bear to leave my chambers today. How is a princess to breathe without the love of a prince?"
The warrior looked to the young royal as she feigned death, an earnest chortle exploding from him as she opened one eye to peak at him. Sighing in defeat, as if he ever stood a chance against her, Sir Geralt ordered: "Go and try on your dresses with the Lady Morgana, and I will consider it."
Her dimples grew prominent and her eyes sparked as she grinned in triumph. Leaping from her seat and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek: "You are the best!" Her companion smiled warmly; it had been the happiest that he had seen her since she had argued with the young Pendragon prince. "May you also get rid of these flowers?" The princess asked, gesturing to the abundance of blooms that littered her chambers. A tiny wrinkle appeared between her brows as she stared at them. "They are suffocating me."
"It is the kingdom's way of convincing you to stay. They are showing you that they care for you." As he rationalised, his dark eyes scanned the many vases before he too wrinkled his nose. "Although, they do make me miss the bloodied stench of a battlefield. What shall I do with them?"
"You always talk of the glory of battle, and yet you refrain from the mention of the horrors." Her tone was indecipherable as she stared out of her window. At the thought of the nightmares that he had endured during his time at war, Sir Geralt's expression hardened. His eyes grew darker than the caves in which he and his men had taken refuge. His blood ran colder than the hands of the soldiers that he had cradled in their final moments. Her voice broke him free as it echoed through the room once more: "Lay the flowers on the graves of every fallen soldier. If you have any to spare, deliver them to their remaining family." His face softened. Every so often, the young woman surprised him. She showed compassion toward situations that her young heart had yet to learn to comprehend, and the ageing soldier could not have been prouder of her; for she touched his closed- off heart in ways that he had thought impossible. Noting his expression as she turned to face him, she smiled and headed towards the door. As her hand grazed the cool metal handle and her guardian's moment of contemplation passed, she paused; a calculating smile creeping onto her face. "Except for the ones from Arthur." She continued, allowing the man a little hope that she would rekindle whatever relationship she had left with the prince. However, that optimism was soon quashed. "Take those ones and dump them on the floor of his chambers, water and all."
"You know that he will make Merlin clean it up."
Arwyn turned back to him with an innocent expression, completely contradicting her previous conniving smirk. With a gentle shrug, she added: "Then send him a bouquet in apology."
"Perhaps I should threaten to leave, then Uther might send me a whole new wardrobe." Morgana mused, admiring the needlework on one of the new cloaks that her guardian had sent to the princess in a bid to convince her to remain in Camelot. "If it will make you stay, I will send a thousand apples to Falen?" The younger girl laughed from behind the screen as Gwen fastened her corset. As she stepped out, Morgana's emerald eyes trailed her before a light gasp escaped her pink lips: "It's beautiful, Arwyn."
"You really think so?" The princess asked as she tilted her head and examined her reflection in the mirror perched on her friend's dressing table. The blush pink fabric, sparkling in the light that shone through the window, was an unusual colour for her. A subtle smile crossed her features as the serving girl held back her hair for her, allowing her to envision the complete look. The dress was indeed very beautiful and gave her an air of innocence.
"You mean, do I think Arthur will think so?" The King's ward asked, a teasing smile toying at her lips. "If he can take his eyes off of you for a mere second then he is not worth the hours you have spent pining over him."
A deep scowl darkened Arwyn's expression as the handmaiden allowed her hair to fall against her bodice once more. Turning to face her friends, she affirmed: "I don't pine. And I certainly don't care what the prat thinks."
"Have you still not spoken to him?" Guinevere asked in a gentle, yet curious, tone as she glanced back to the young princess who simply sighed lightly with a shrug before disappearing behind the screen to change into another dress that Morgana had handed her.
"No, and I am proud of her for it! The best revenge is making yourself irresistible and entirely unavailable." Behind the wooden panel, Arwyn rolled her eyes at the young woman's logic. "You never saw the way he treated her."
"There must have been an explanation. You have seen the way he looks at her…"
"Yes, well, that doesn't excuse his pigheaded and aggressively insensitive behaviour."
Sighing, the princess groaned: "Just because you cannot see me, doesn't mean that I cannot hear you." Forcing Gwen to smile sheepishly at her as stepped back into sight with a lorn expression.
"I am just trying to protect you." Morgana spoke as she stepped forward and squeezed the younger girl's hand. The three women suddenly jumped as the door flew open and rattled against the stone wall. Wide-eyed, they were met by a rather dishevelled Merlin as he quickly closed the door and released a breath. "Have you forgotten how to knock, Merlin?!" The King's ward exclaimed as the princess noted the boy at her friend's side.
"The guards are after him, I didn't know what to do." The serving boy rushed with bated breath. His wide blue eyes met the princess' pleadingly as a flurry of pounding knocks rattled the wooden door.
Within a few hours, the small group had reconvened as the kingdom prepared for the execution of the Druid man that had arrived in Camelot with the boy who was currently resting on a small bed that the princess and the King's ward had fashioned, from their surplus of blankets and cloaks, in the hidden alcove of the latter's chambers. Arwyn stood between Morgana and Merlin by the open window. The square below was full of people and the thought of their entertainment brewed a thick nausea in the pit of her stomach; how anyone could bear to watch the suffering of another, let alone find joy in it, was beyond her.
"People of Camelot, the man before you is guilty of using enchantments and magic. Under our law, the sentence for this crime is death." Her heart seemed to beat in her throat as the King spoke with his usual authoritative tone. Her sea-green eyes wandered to the prince as he stood loyally beside his father; a mix of emotion twisted at her heartstrings as she considered him. "We're still searching for his accomplice. Anyone found harbouring the boy is guilty of conspiracy, and will be executed as a traitor." Swallowing heavily, the princess shared a nervous look with Merlin before she turned to look at the young druid boy. His piercing blue eyes met her own and in that moment, she saw only innocence that had been twisted by the cruelty of an adult world. "Let this serve as a warning to your people."
"You have let your fear of magic turn to hate. I pity you." As the man spoke, she knew that his words rang truer than any.
With a distraught expression, Morgana turned away from the window and made her way to the boy's side: "I can't watch this."
Arwyn's eyes widened in preparation as her breath grew bated and a heaviness settled in her chest. The world seemed to fall silent as if every creature had ceased its existence in mourning of the innocent life that was set to be taken. As the king raised his hand and claimed another life, the executioner swung his blade. A tsunami of emotion hit her as morbid curiosity forced her to watch. Will finally won as her eyes slammed shut and she turned to shield herself against Merlin's chest, savouring the comfort as he wrapped an arm around her before averting his own eyes from the murder beneath them.
Against the doleful silence, the violent thud of the man's head against the wooden platform seemed to assault the ears of anyone who dared to attend. However, the silence that smothered the chambers and cradled the three friends was ripped from its reverie by the shattering of a mirror. Peeling herself from the serving boy, her widened eyes landed on the fugitive child. His eyes wild with a fury unknown to her.
The town seemed quiet. Eerie. It was still abuzz with the daily workings of its inhabitants and yet there was unseen mist that held it captive. Chained the chattering villagers with uncertainty painted with flecks of fear. Fear of a force that they did not understand. Fear of a ruler who stopped at nothing to prove that his fears were not untoward. Friendly conversations seemed strained, suspense and suspicion was strife. Mother's and father's kept their children close and their neighbours at arm-length as the prince led his knights through each of their houses in search of the young boy that his father had deemed a criminal.
In an attempt to make but the smallest of differences to the town, the princess had elected to spend her free time with the children that lingered close to home. A gentle smile graced her features as she watched her knight 'sparring' with the seamstress' seven-year-old son.
"I want to be a princess when I grow up!" A little voice squealed, drawing her attention to the little girl who had been braiding her hair.
"It's not much fun." Arwyn responded, her hands resting against her knees as the girl tied a ribbon around her hair and moved in front of her with a questioning expression. "It is rather lonely…" She cast her eyes downward as she spoke of her life in the kingdom. A homesick pang reverberating through her chest.
"But you get to wear pretty dresses, ride horses, and marry princes!"
"Well, princes aren't all they are made up to be. They are nothing like they are in the stories that your mother tells you."
As the young child followed her gaze, she nodded in regards to Arthur who had made his way closer to the house: "Did he make you cry?"
"Who made you cry?" The boy interrupted, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he snapped his head to look at them. "I'll fight them!" The princess laughed as she watched him swing the wooden sword violently, however silence descended on them as the stick collided with Sir Geralt's stomach. Immediately, the child called out as his toy weapon was yanked from his grasp by the knight, who had earned himself a stern glare from his Lady forcing him to swallow his fury. With a strained smile, gloved hands returned the sword to the child.
Upon seeing the Pendragon as he drew nearer still, the princess dismissed herself from the children: "I ought to return to the castle now." The little girl groaned in protest until her face lit up with the princess' next suggestion. "I shall visit you again. And I am sure Sir Geralt would be delighted to teach your brother some more." A small smile twisted her lips as the girl nodded enthusiastically and her knight scowled petulantly. "Thank you for doing my hair - it is quite beautiful. Run along now, and send your mother my regards."
Nodding politely as the children ran off, Arwyn quickly located Arthur before plotting the path of most avoidance back to the castle. However, her hopes were soon dashed as the young man called out to her. It was the first time that she had heard him utter her name since she had left him staring forlornly at her chambers' door as despite Sir Geralt's best advice, she had elected to give the possibility of facing her feelings a rather wide berth.
As Arthur called out to her once more, her guardian sent her a pointed look, prompting her to stop and acknowledge the prince. As he reached her, she curtsied politely: "My Lord."
Sir Geralt rolled his eyes heavily, surprised that he had expected anything less from the obstinate young woman as she smiled sweetly at the young man who appeared to flounder, unsure of what to say in response.
"I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay." He finally spoke, his tone a lot calmer than he felt. "I know that the executions are…"
"I am perfectly alright, Sire. You need not worry." Arwyn interrupted, bowing her head as she turned to walk away; ignoring the displeased expression that her childish behaviour had left on her knight's face.
His hand was warm as it reached to clutch hers, pulling her closer to him. "Arwyn, please." A sigh parted his lips as he realised that for perhaps the first time, he was at a loss for words. Her eyes flitted between his before resting with an uninterested dullness. A brief moment passed before the prince spoke once more, his voice quiet and gently pleading. "I would never intentionally hurt you like that, I can't explain it but I know that those words were not my own."
"I suppose next you'll say that you were enchanted." Her tone conflicted his own as they stared into one another's eyes. She contemplated his sincerity, his warm hand still anchored to her colder one - clouding her thoughts. The bustle of the town seemed even quieter if but for a moment and Arthur wondered if, through the heavy silence, she could hear his heartbeat. Breaking from the fog that swarmed her brain, she sighed and slowly took her hand from his. "You ought to get back to your search. You wouldn't want to anger your father." Disappointment scarred his expression as he nodded in somewhat agreement, frozen as she hesitated before gingerly smoothing the collar of his shirt - her index finger grazing his neck. Clearing her throat whilst her cheeks brandished pink upon the realisation of what she had done, Arwyn immediately bowed her head and walked away as fast as her dignity would allow. Completely unaware of the eyes that followed her until she was out of sight.
"I still think that it was an enchantment." A gruff voice uttered from behind her, reminding her that she was not alone. Considering his words, the princess glared darkly at the man as he raised a brow at her in challenge. Unwilling to argue about it for what may have been the fourteenth time, she simply shook her head and abandoned him by the baker's.
Moments after leaving her guard, she was yanked into a nearby alley. Upon instinct, her hand retrieved the dagger from her cloak as she spun to face the assailant. Blade to his throat, her eyes widened as they met familiar blue: "Merlin! I could've killed you." As the boy raised a brow and laughed in disbelief, she scowled at him. "I could have."
"Of course, your Highness." He replied only to gasp as her elbow sharply jabbed his stomach. Chuckling lightly, he shook his head before reminding himself of the reason he had sought her out. "I need your help. The druid boy's wound is infected. You need to heal it."
"Then we need Gaius - I am not a physician, Merlin!" Arwyn argued, somewhat flattered by her friend's faith in her but completely sure that it was unfounded. "I have never actually helped anyone before."
"That's not true, you saved Lancelot."
After tilting her head in agreement, she refuted: "But this in an infection. I have only ever read about them…"
"You have to try, Arwyn." His pleading tone and begging expression made her groan as the younger boy grinned in triumph. "Besides, how hard can it be?"
"Do you even know how to treat an infected wound?"
"I've read about it." The princess admitted as she cleansed the wound with purified water. Huffing slightly she swept Morgana's hair from where it tickled her shoulder before taking the herb mixture from Merlin and rubbing it between her fingers. Shivering slightly as warm air hit her upper back, Arwyn snapped through gritted teeth: "Stop breathing down my neck."
"Are you sure that you know what you're doing?"
The younger girl huffed once more, nose almost brushing Morgana's as she turned to face her with a frustrated and mildly irritated expression. "Yes!" She hissed whilst the older woman sat back a little to allow her more room. However, as the King's ward raised a brow, the princess looked down at the druid boy with a gentle frown. "Well…not exactly." She muttered, "But I am trying my best!" The sweat beaded gently on her forehead as she blew the hair from her face and applied the strange smelling paste onto the boy's wound. Once she had finished, she ran her arm across her brow and stood up. Smoothing her dress, she nudged the other girl and nodded towards the door. "I will get rid of these rags." She informed, her voice a quiet murmur. "Keep a close eye on him, I know that it's not what Merlin wants but I think that we may need Gaius."
"I'll watch over him." Morgana promised, a worried expression coating her porcelain features as the smaller brunette nodded. As Arwyn motioned to leave, her hand was caught in a warmer one. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to doubt you, I think that you are brilliant, I just..." Her words trailed off as the princess simply smiled softly, squeezing her hand gingerly until their attention was drawn to the serving boy.
"Speak to me." Merlin urged the ever-fading boy as his friends returned to him.
"I don't know if he can't speak or if he's just too scared."
"Poor thing, I doubt we could ever imagine the things that he has seen." Arwyn smiled at the sickly pale boy, a gentle expression as she smoothed the hair from his sweat-seeped brow and continued in an equally gentle whisper. "Get some sleep. You are safe here. We will not let anyone harm you."
If Arwyn had to name one thing that she had learned that day, it was that books do not teach you everything. Unfortunately, the druid boy's fever worsened as time went on and so the trio had no choice but to confide in Gaius. To say that the old physician was angered was an understatement, however, he had treated the boy on the promise that the friends get him out of Camelot.
The guard patrols in the town were much more prominent than usual in a bid to find the fugitive. With each passing suit of armour, the princess wondered if the men behind the Pendragon crest truly believed in the fight against magic; truly believed that the persecution of a child was the right thing to do. She often wondered the same about Arthur. The prince had been raised by a single parent whose sole aim in life was to eradicate magic from his land, whereas the princess had been surrounded by enchantments and the druid way of life since the moment of her first breath.
"The guards are searching everyone leaving the town." The sound of Guinevere's voice gently pulled Arwyn from her thoughts and back to the stall in the marketplace. Merlin and Morgana accompanied them as they concocted a plan.
"There is another way out." The boy muttered whilst feigning a particular interest in the needlework of a satin garment. "There's a secret door in the armoury. It leads to the lower town. I'll take the boy out that way."
Morgana immediately argued: "No. It's too dangerous. I'll do it."
"But I…I'm good with secret doors and things."
"Merlin, anyone can open a door." Arwyn finally weighed in, having caught up with the conversation. Her sea green eyes were sincere as she considered him. "I won't let you put yourself in danger." Pursing her lips as she watched the guards pass, she lowered her voice and looked around the group. "I will do it. I am the faster rider and if I am caught…Uther would not risk a war by executing me."
"No!" The king's ward protested at the same time as the serving boy. Glancing around to check that they had not drawn any unwanted attention, Morgana continued, "I will not allow you to put yourself in danger." Determination hardened her eyes as she formulated the escape. "The boy's my responsibility. I'll smuggle him out of the castle."
Sighing in defeat, Merlin shrugged: "Well, you'll need a key for the door."
"Who has it?"
"Arthur. Leave that to me."
As the two plotted, Gwen drew their attention: "You will need to be sure that Arthur is occupied when Morgana makes the escape." Considering this, the raven haired pair nodded in concurrence as the young woman added: "If he is doing something that he deems more important that this search, there will be less guards to worry about."
Seemingly in agreement with one another, three pairs of eyes landed on the princess who's attention had been stolen by a golden antique box at the stall to their left. As the silence deafened her, Arwyn glanced up to find her friends staring at her expectantly. Frowning in confusion, she glanced at each of them before realisation dawned on her.
"No! I wont do it." She protested, arms crossing against her chest in defiance.
"You need to talk to him at some point. You can't ignore him forever."
"I can."
"Arwyn, we need you to do this." Morgana's voice was gentle and pleading, earning a scoff from the princess. "Please."
Getting nowhere, the King's ward looked to Merlin who obediently interjected, "You know that he would drop everything for you."
If she had rolled her eyes any heavier, Arwyn thought that they may have rolled out of her head. Her tone and expression were full of mockery as she jeered: "Yes, because past experience has proved that. Tell me, has he heard from Sophia lately?"
"If you can't do it for us, do it for the boy." Merlin fought a smile as her jaw slackened, "You said it yourself, the boy is innocent. He is just a child."
Arwyn sighed heavily, grumbling with a scowl: "Don't use me against me." however, upon the thought of the child's execution, she threw her hands up in defeat. "What do you want me to do?"
"Invite him to dinner. Inflate his ego a little." Morgana smirked, jubilantly.
"Perfect." Sarcasm dripped off Arwyn's tongue as she muttered under her breath. "Great…really, there is nothing else I would rather do."
The silence was heavy and emotionally charged, and as far as playing her role in the escape, Arwyn was finding it unexpectedly rough. As she sat across the table from the prince, the feelings she had been locking away had reared their ugly heads. Her palms were cold and clammy and her pulse seemed to rise ever-so-slightly. Sighing gently through her nose, she smiled to her handmaiden as she presented their dinner before evacuating her Lady's chambers, leaving the pair with nothing but each other's company.
After a few agonising moments of silence, Arthur finally spoke: "I must say, I was surprised by the sudden invitation."
"Don't flatter yourself. I simply did not wish to dine alone and as interesting as Sir Geralt is, his tales do get rather repetitive."
As he smirked in disbelief, Arwyn clenched her jaw in annoyance and averted her attention, mentally cursing her so-called friends for forcing her to endure such torture. Seeing this, Arthur's expression faltered and he cleared his throat: "Thank you for returning the flowers."
"I am glad you appreciated them as much as I did."
"Merlin spent half the morning…
"Yes, he told me."
"Of course he did…" He sighed as she interrupted him, nodding with disinterest. He would be lying if he said that he knew if her nonchalance was irritating him or if it was merely highlighting the self-loathing that he felt in regards to the way he had treated her. In truth, Arthur wanted nothing more than for her to scream at him, to tell him that she hated him and call him every name that found its way to her. He just wanted her to do something. To say something. Before the princess had returned to Camelot, she was nothing but a long lost memory; someone who he wouldn't recognise if she stood in front of him. Someone he didn't recognise as she stood in front of him. However, the longer she had stayed, the more the years that had parted them seemed to fall away into nothingness. She was no longer a relic of the past, she was a possible future. A gentle frown creased the bridge between her eyebrows; she was mulling over something in the depths of her mind, agonising over it in excruciating detail, and Arthur realised that he would give anything to alleviate the stress. It frustrated him as he thought back to Sophia. He had no idea what he was thinking, nor what he was saying, and it seemed that he was never destined to know. How could he explain to the beautiful young woman in front of him, if he couldn't explain it to himself? The answer was obvious: trust. And yet, true to her nature, she refused to look at him, let alone speak to him. Then it hit him, there was one way that guaranteed a rise from her: "I arrested one of the farmer's today. He had a whole bundle of stolen blankets." Arwyn's gaze finally met his as she frowned; trying her hardest not to notice the soft glow of the flickering flames against his features. "He claimed that his sick son needed them for warmth. I'm unsure how long Father will keep him in the cells. I mean, if we find the people harbouring the druid boy, we may need to execute him to make room." As Arthur shrugged and shoved a slice of meat into his mouth, he fought a smile at the anger that was evidently brewing under the princess' skin.
"How can you speak of that with such nonchalance? You truly are an oaf." She spat, eyes as venomous as her tone. "Punishing a father for trying to save his child as the colder nights creep in, instead of being a decent human being and offering empathy! Are you really that…" A soft chuckle interrupted the scolding, causing her to glower at him through gritted teeth. "Why are you laughing?"
"You're predictable, is all."
As the young man looked up at her, eyes sparkling in the candlelight, her jaw slackened slightly and a look of realisation crossed her expression: "You made that up." She concluded, nodding slowing and returning her stare to the plate in front of her.
"It got you to speak more than a few words to me."
"You are unbearable, you know that?" Her stern stare turned petulant as she glanced up and scoffed at him. It was an expression that Arthur was sure had been reserved just for him, however, he hadn't much time to consider his theory as she launched a potato at him.
"Hey! I just had this shirt washed." He laughed as he dodged the assault, noting the tiny ghost of a smile that tugged at her lips before she banished it behind indifference once more. "I miss you." The vulnerability in his voice, took her by surprise. His eyes were almost desperate as hers softened, slightly. "Do you remember the first fight we had when we were children?" His question caused her to frown in thought before she shook her head. "Neither did I, not until the other day. We had been playing in the corridor beside the council chambers and had smashed the window. My father was furious. You blamed me and I blamed you. I pushed you and then you bit me."
Arwyn chuckled before she had the chance to catch herself, Arthur realised that it was one of his favourite sounds. "I don't remember that." She answered, almost shyly as she smiled at him for the first time in what felt like a century. "But I am sure it was your fault." This time, Arthur laughed and for a moment, Arwyn looked heartbroken once more. "You are not the little boy that I remember, just as I am not the same." She whispered, almost inaudibly. "We grew up, Arthur, and for some reason the people that we became don't get along. We didn't even recognise each other when I returned and despite our best intentions, we are always fighting about something." Arthur wasn't sure what he had wanted her to say, but he was certain it wasn't that. "There's just…so much pressure and we are already cracking under it."
Suddenly, the doors to her chambers swung open revealing Sir Geralt and a couple of guards. The princess' protector watched her intently as the knights informed the prince that the druid boy had escaped from the dungeons. If there was one thing that Arwyn had taken away from her political training, it was the need to mask her emotions and whilst she tried, her eyes had always given her away.
"Sound the warning bell." Arthur ordered as he was told of the servant that had seen the boy entering the armoury with an accomplice. Arwyn's mind raced as she searched for a way to buy her friends a little more time. As the prince headed towards the exit, she called after him, pausing as she realised that she had no idea what to do. Frowning, Arthur searched her face: "What's wrong?"
It was now or never, she had to decide what was more important. Her pride or Morgana. Finding the decision easy, she lowered her voice and softened her stare, groaning internally. "I know that things between us are strained and I don't know how to fix it but…I don't want to lose you."
As he studied her conflicted expression, Arthur yearned to reach for her but restrained himself in front of their audience. Straightening his jacket, he matched her tone as he vowed: "I have to go but we'll talk later. I promise." Pausing only until she nodded in understanding, he ran out with his guards in tow.
The princess wasted no time as she motioned to go and warn her friends, however, a strong hand gripped her arm. "What have you done?" Sir Geralt demanded, gruffly, noting the guilt that scarred her expression as she avoided eye contact. "I am not as oblivious as you think, My Lady."
Her voice remained even as she tried to exude authority: "I have to go."
"I cannot let you do that. I will not." The greying man informed. "Uther will have your head for treason!" As he hissed at her, his expression grew worried as he feared for the young woman that he viewed as not only his charge, but his daughter. "I cannot protect you from that, Arwyn." His hands clasped her shoulders, his words rushed and urgent. "You must abandon this madness."
"He is just a boy!" Her once guilt-ridden eyes were now fuelled by a fury as she glared at the man afore her. "He has committed no crime!"
"Your Highness, I have never asked you for anything but right now, I beg of you. Please do not continue down this path."
"Unhand me." She ordered, ignoring his pleading as she tried to push him away. Fighting against him to no avail. "I have to warn them!"
Seeing that he would not win in a battle of wills, the knight stood to his full height and spoke as he strode swiftly towards the door: "I am charged with your safety, Princess. You are not leaving this room."
As the door slammed shut, the only sound that filled the chambers was the rushed footsteps of the princess as she realised his plan, and the sliding of a lock.
"It's exhausting being mad at everyone." Arwyn muttered as she stood with by the window of the prince's chambers, fiddling with a strange contraption that she had found on his table. Having only just been released from her house arrest, the princess had promptly found the King's ward after vowing to never speak to her knight again should anything have happened to one of her friends.
"Yes, well, hopefully Arthur will redeem himself." Morgana responded, she too had decided that she hated the majority of people within the kingdom.
"Do you really think he will listen to you?"
"To me, alone? I cannot say, but to both of us?"
Their questions were soon to be answered, however, as the prince strode into his bedchamber. Upon seeing the formidable pair, he sighed. A tired expression coating his features as he snapped: "Make yourself at home." whilst taking the object from Arwyn and sliding into his seat at the table.
"You can't let your father execute the boy."
"You're lucky he's not executing you!" Arthur argued, staring at his father's ward in disbelief. "Are you telling me he really was behind the screen when I came to search your chambers?"
Morgana nodded gently, glancing quickly to Arwyn who offered her a reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath, the older girl continued: "I know you believe your father's wrong to execute him."
"What I believe doesn't matter. My father's made up his mind." The prince concluded, studying the taller of the two brunettes that had ambushed him. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to happen."
"We have to get the boy back to his people."
"No. Forget it."
"I cannot believe that you would let an innocent child die!" Morgana bellowed at the man that had always been like a brother to her. An annoying younger brother.
"It's too late! He's been caught. I have no choice."
"There is always a choice." Arwyn interjected. Her voice was softer than she intended and yet it held the ability to capture the room. "I saw the fear in the boy's eyes and it broke my heart. No child should ever have to feel that way." Her seemed to have lost their spark as they cast themselves downwards. "I was slightly younger than him when I lost my mother and there was nothing anyone could have done to stop it…I guess, I couldn't help but see myself when I looked at him. I couldn't help but hate your father's ignorance." Arthur's hand gently edged closer to where hers rested against the dark wooden table until he grazed her pinky with his; it was a subtle show of affection, of comfort, but it had not gone unnoticed by Morgana who viewed them with a calculating expression as she fought a smile. Without recoiling from the contact, Arwyn met his gaze: "Your father orphaned him and chained him up like a prisoner because he was born to a different walk of life." Sea green eyes darted between sapphire blue. "You cannot sit there and tell me that is acceptable. That had it been you, you would have done the same thing."
"I have tried talking to my father…"
"Then perhaps the time for talking has passed." Arthur ran a hand over his face, struggling between the loyalty to his father and the fact that the princess had him wound tightly around her dainty little finger. The king's ward bit back a smirk, knowing that she had found his weakness in the form of an unyielding force with a magnetising aura and eyes that mirrored the ocean on a stormy morning. A weakness that she may be able to exploit every once and a while.
"You are asking me to betray him. Again."
Morgana opened her mouth to retort but thought better of it as she noted the look in the prince's eyes. His resolve was wavering and she knew that with just a little nudge, her friend would have him exactly where they wanted him; where they needed him.
"I am sorry." As the words left her mouth, the older girl's emerald eyes widened - terrified that she, too, had given up on the druid boy. However, the princess was not one to roll over at the first sign of trouble. Any sign of trouble. "But, I know that deep down you are not that man. You are kind and compassionate, and you believe in justice. After everything, if I didn't believe that, if I didn't believe in you, I would be on my way back to the Distant Isles." Arthur eyes glanced towards the table, the corner of his lips twitching slightly as Arwyn took his hand in her own. "You are going to be the best king that this land has ever seen. Do not begin that with a false hatred."
"Arwyn…"
"Please."
As the princess pleaded with him, the king's ward stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with her best friend. Her hand resting on the back of a chair as she looked to Arthur, eyes begging: "If you cant do it for the boy. Do it for me."
Arwyn shivered prompting Falen to nuzzle his snout into her neck, adjusting his body slightly to shield her from the wind. Despite her thick cloak, the cold night air cut through her like icy blades as she stood, hidden at the edge of the castle grounds with her hands wrapped tightly around the reigns of her black stallion and Arthur's fawn mare. Having finally agreed to help, the prince had constructed a seemingly flawless plan. This time, it was Morgana's turn to distract the unsuspecting royal as the group had determined that there was no better alibi than the King himself. Meanwhile, Arthur was set to break the druid boy from his cells, escape through the grating with the help of Merlin (who had seemed unusually reluctant to help and suddenly very indifferent towards the child's life), and meet the princess. The pair were then set to return the boy to his people whilst Uther and Sir Geralt thought them to be away on a hunting trip in an attempt to repair their visibly strained relationship.
The plan should have been perfect.
She had no idea how long had passed but as an owl hooted in a nearby tree and Arthur's horse snorted impatiently, a growing sense of panic crept in. Suddenly the clamour of the warning bells echoed through the kingdom. Hooves thundered as she mounted Falen and raced to the iron grate, pulling the mare with them.
"Where's Merlin?" Arthur hissed as she arrived at the opposite side of the iron that held them captive.
Glancing around with a sense of urgency, she rushed: "I don't know. What do I do?" She asked, pulling uselessly at the metal bars.
"I need you to find a grappling hook."
"Where?"
"You'll need to get back into the castle."
Arwyn's eyes widened at the absurd idea: "Arthur, there is no time for that! You'll be caught."
"Then you have to go." His voice was steady and a lot calmer than he felt.
"I won't leave you." Determination oozed out of her as she stared at him, eyes flickering momentarily to the young druid boy; fear was evident in his widened blue eyes causing the princess to huff and run a hand through her hair. "Where is he?!"
Merlin's voice soon rang out in the darkness as he ran towards them, almost tripping over the rope that trailed from the hook in his hand: " I'm here!"
"I worried that you had abandoned us."
"I uh…had trouble getting out of the castle." The servant responded, unconvincingly, as he helped the young woman secure the rope to her horse before swiftly nudging him into a brief run, forcing him to pull the grate from the wall.
As the prince and the boy mounted his horse, and the princess retrieved Falen before joining them, Arthur turned to Merlin: "Remember, if my father asks, Arwyn and I are set to return from our hunt in the morning. Now, make yourself scarce before he executes you in the boy's place."
Having successfully returned the boy (who they found to be named Mordred) to his people, the young royals began their journey back to Camelot. It was the first time in a number of days that Arwyn could allow herself to relax slightly. Her muscles ached from carrying the heavy weight of their lies, and she was alerted to her lack of sleep as a rough yawn escaped her lips. The trek back had been relatively quiet; the prince evidently lost in his thoughts, leaving Arwyn with her own for company.
"You said that you didn't want to lose me. Was that a lie? All a part of Morgana's plan?" Arthur finally spoke, his voice void of emotion and rather unsettling. "What you said to me in my chambers, did you mean any of that or was that just another manipulation?"
"I have meant every word that I have ever said to you." The brunette answered, simply, eyes still trained to the dark path ahead.
"Even when you told me that you hated me?"
"At the time, I meant it…or at least half of me did."
"And now?"
Arthur watched as she sighed heavily and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, shrugging as she shook her head with a helpless expression. There was no avoiding the conversation any longer: "You hurt me, Arthur. You may be the most obnoxiously frustrating person that I have ever met but when I was grieving, it was you that I wanted." She spoke, her voice wavering slightly, forcing her to clear her throat and take a deep breath to save face. "Not Sir Geralt, not Merlin nor Morgana. You. And you humiliated me in front of your father and then again in front of the entire court! If it hadn't been for Gaius, I would have left Camelot that night and never returned. I never wanted to see you again because every time I thought of you, it hurt." Her eyes found his in the moonlight as they brought the horses to a slower walk. "Arthur, I care about you, and I am still unsure if I should leave whilst that is still the truth, or if I should risk growing to resent you."
"You can't leave." His voice finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence that had descended upon them; nothing but their thoughts accompanied by the soft crunching of hooves against the mud-trodden tracks of the forest. Her expression remained passive as she stared in front of her, unwilling to argue further. "Arwyn, look at me." The gentleness of his tone caught her by surprise, her hair falling against her shoulder as she turned to look at him. "I know that there is nothing I could say that would excuse anything that happened but I will spend every moment I can trying to make it up to you." His bright blue eyes were sincere and pleading; an unusual look for him. "I will even stop using Merlin for target practice because I know you hate it." In the moonlight, a sliver of smile tugged at her lips as tears threatened to ruin her tough façade. "Just…Please don't run away. Forget what our fathers want. If you never want to marry me then that is okay, just don't marry someone who you feel nothing for. Someone who doesn't care for your temper, regardless of how infuriating you're being, or someone who doesn't wake up in the morning and wonder what you dreamt about. I don't care if you were lying to keep me for finding Morgana, I am not. I can't promise you that you will fall in love with me, and I can't promise that this pressure that we feel will go away but I don't want to lose you."
"A bear that kept stealing Sir Leon's jester hat."
"What?" After years of knowing her, Arthur thought that nothing could surprise him; that was until something like that came out of her mouth.
"That's what I dreamt about last night."
A laugh bubbled in his chest and broke the tension between them. Shaking his head, he rebutted: "On second thought, go. Marry the first person you find who is willing to put up with whatever is going on in that head of yours." The prince grinned at her as she laughed, eyes sparkling again when she looked at him. "Race you to the gates?" Arthur asked as they smiled at each other, before speaking her response in unison with her: "Will you never tire of losing?" and earning a playful scowl. He grinned once more. "See? Predictable."
"That's what makes me so charming."
"Well, something has to."