A/N: rawr
Chapter Ten
Arturia seemed to slowly go back to her usual routines. However, she seemed to be taking a few more naps than necessary. This worried Gwenivere deeply. Lancelot didn't seem to want to smile or talk with her either, which also worried her. What had transpired that had caused even the most gallant of the knights to lose interest in talking with her?
She saw Merlin's hand beckoning her from the hallway into his chambers. She looked around and realized must have wandered around a lot more than she had thought. She walked toward Merlin's chamber and walked into it when the door opened for her. Inside, she gasped at the array of materials and metals and various strange objects in just the small main room he used as his office. There were small metal gadgets that ran on steam, puffing occasionally to let out some steam. There were bottles of various things that looked more like witches' ingredients rather than a wiseman's study materials. She knew he was a wizard, but had never seen just how deeply into his wizardry he was.
"What sorcery is all this?" she asked, turning to look at Merlin. His shoulder length blonde hair was graying more so than it had in the past. He was old, she knew, but she didn't know just how old he was.
"Most of it," he said with a faint smile, "is simply the tools of the trade. Potions ingredients, spell books, guides on animals and faery folk, and my wand, which I keep hidden. If I need a bigger bang, I usually use my staff, which is easier to replace than my wand, I'm afraid."
"Why.. why did you bring me in here?" asked Gwenivere, suddenly afraid.
"Something has occurred that I have not been able to foresee," said Merlin softly. He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a phial of some sort filled with a black potion. "I'm afraid… you must give this to Arturia. It won't harm her, you don't have to worry about that, but it'll kill anything living inside of her."
"What do you mean?" Gwenivere's heart pounded oddly in her chest as she gazed at Merlin. "What could be living inside of Arthur? Is it a demon? Should we not instead get Father Peter?"
"It was Father Peter who informed me of this," said Merlin. He moved around his desk and took off the long green and brown robe he was want to wear since he was younger. It had been a gift to him so long ago by the woman he could have called mother had she actually birthed him. His stature was fairly impressive, his tunic was of a deep, rich brown like the Earth and his belt black, all showing a broad shouldered man who at one time must have been a sight to behold in his youth, but now was content to hide that truth underneath a robe that was far too large for him so that he seemed far smaller in comparison.
"What is living inside her or what could be living in side her?" asked Gwenivere.
"We're not certain, but if something is it won't survive this," he said, holding up the black potion. "It won't harm Arturia, as I said, so don't worry about it harming her. However, if something is living inside her, then all of Camelot will be in jeopardy, not to mention Arturia herself."
Gwenivere was confused as to why Merlin seemed to insist upon calling Arturia by her proper name instead of the male name that he was want to use. Were his chambers so filled with magic that one could not hear through the very walls what he spoke? Gwenivere shook her head and balled her fists up at her sides. "I won't give it to her unless I know why it is I should," she said finally.
Gwenivere expected Merlin to become angry and shoot magic bolts at her or something, expected him to shout or intimidate her, but instead, when she opened her eyes, she saw a man who was very worried and very saddened. "I can not tell you why it is she needs it, Gwenivere," he said softly, almost whispering his words, "All I can say is it was caused by a foolhardy ghost who didn't think ahead before using dear Arturia."
A baby? Had Arturia's having sex with a ghost caused some form of demonic child that could potentially harm Arturia and Camelot? Another, more rational, though occurred to her; it had taken a great deal of Cuchulainn's energy to make himself solid for only a short period of time. He then disappeared for several weeks and then Arturia was found with her own blood and a man's seed on her thighs and bed covers. How could a ghost make himself solid for such a long period of time and how could he even perform such an act and ejaculate as he should when he had no body and no body fluids to ejaculate?
Gwenivere suddenly had a very sick feeling inside her stomach. Had the ghost used a man's body, a living man, to use as a vessel for his own spirit so he might love Arturia for that brief time? If so, who would he have chosen? A part of her remembered the look of Lancelot, as though he were being thrust into a deep mental and spiritual turmoil from some sort of experience he had acquired in that same time period. He was also similar in build and very handsome with long hair and only a little taller than the ghost himself. If this was indeed how things had played out, God was indeed allowing a cruel joke to be played upon them and that phial would indeed be needed to make certain a child was not growing inside that belly of the king.
Gwenivere took it and patted her face, her skin having gone white and cold. Merlin saw the change as soon as he had spoken, seen the wheels turning inside Gwenivere's mind and knew from the beginning that she was not as stupid as others might think of her. She thought things out and reasoned as a person should. Arturia, however, was more prone to impulsive behavior, seeing things in the light of being "a king's pride" or "a king's duty". She was also a woman pretending to be a man and having been brought up as a boy rather than a woman, she would indeed be far more curious about how a woman felt and how a woman loved as opposed to a man.
"I will give Arturia.. the phial," said Gwenivere softly. It pained her to think of it. A child was a precious thing and usually wanted. However, if Arturia were to become pregnant, it would be far more difficult to hide it from everyone else as well as the birth. Then, the child would either have to be discarded to another family or Gwenivere would have to have claimed she were pregnant all along and that would pain both Arturia and Lancelot more so than if they made certain something did not form in her womb at all. "Are you certain it will not harm her, nor will it make her sterile?" Another blow to Arturia's femininity that Gwenivere could not stomach; Arturia sterile was like ripping her womb out forcefully through her navel and waving it in front of her for a few taunting moments before pulling it away and shredding it in a meat grinder. It was a part of her real person and one thing she might not ever be able to use again, but it was still a part of her.
"Yes, I am certain she will be fine in all manner of ways, but it would kill anything inside her womb," he said. Gwenivere nodded and hide the phial in her bodice before leaving. "I'm sorry to have forced you to do such a thing, Gwenivere."
Gwenivere stopped in the doorway and started to turn, but looked away. "It is what is best, Merlin, and for that I am willing to do almost anything." Then, she walked out quickly, closing the door behind her.
Arturia opened her eyes and found herself in that same sunlit place that she had longed to see again. The red haired boy was near her and smiling faintly, though his appearance had changed slightly. No longer was his hair red, but the grand majority of it was bright blue and his eyes red. She reached a hand out to touch him, but he shied away from her. She blinked at him in confusion as he looked away from her pensively. "What is wrong, Cuchulainn?" she asked softly.
He had a strange instrument in his hand, something she had only seen Merlin play with. It looked like a small toy vehicle of sorts with wheels and enclosed with what would seem to be windows, but no sign of a hitch for horses. He was pushing it along carefully, or really nudging it with a stick. He didn't seem too particularly interested in it though. It was, after all, somewhat rusty. "Where did you find that? It looks very strange," she said.
"Aunt Mary said it's a horseless carriage," he said as he nudged it along with the stick. "I don't mind it, really. It's interesting, but it's not something I know." He looked up and pointed in toward the village he seemed to be living in. "In there, somewhere, they have a large structure of something like this, but most of it has disappeared and grown over with weeds. This was found in the ground not far from where we're sitting and Aunt Mary gave it to me."
She reached out to touch him again and this time made contact, stroking his hair gently in what she hoped was a comforting fashion. "Why are you so restless?"
Cuchulainn tapped the stick against the ground and looked up to the forest bordering the village. He scratched his chest and pointed over to it. "Over there, beyond that, is the fortress. In there they train boys into soldiers, but you have to be sixteen to join," he said. "I went over there and they wouldn't even look at me. Aunt Mary came after me and pulled me back home by my ear and scolded me for an hour about how I shouldn't go off on my own like that and worry her." He tapped the stick into the ground again idly and glared at the ground. "When I was a boy before, they allowed me in because I showed them what I could turn into when angry. I couldn't do that this time because Aunt Mary would have been in the path and innocent boys and young men were inside the gates. They would've killed me on sight and I wouldn't get much further."
"Times aren't the same as they were when you were a boy before, Cuchulainn," she said softly. "Humans grew into a great civilization, but then something terrible happened and everything is as you see it here. That was thousands of years ago when you were alive before."
Cuchulainn looked over at Arturia for a moment and smiled faintly. He took her hand and pulled it away from him gently before gazing at her. "You can't keep coming here, Arturia," he said softly. "You're king and for a moment I made you a woman, but you are still a king."
Arturia gazed at him, frowning faintly. He was right; for the past couple of weeks, she had been acting quite silly. If she looked more deeply into her behavior, it was like the love-sick girls in the town and within the castle. She had continuously been trying to sleep so that she might find herself in this sunlit place she found so peaceful so that she might see him, even if for a moment.
She straightened up against the tree and corrected the posture she had previously had, sitting up stiffly so she was somewhat taller than the boy next to her. How did such a small, stringy boy grow up to become such a tall, handsome hero? He smiled faintly at her as she corrected her posture and looked to him with a bit less dreamy look to her pretty face.
"You've been sorely neglected for so long," he said softly, gazing at her with gentle eyes. "You have never been a woman and to force you to be one has caused a great change in you. Now that you know that difference, know what it is like, could you be a king as you have been?"
Arturia looked at him in surprise. While he had been sitting there, she had forgotten that he was indeed likened to an adult trapped inside a child's body, but in all manner of respect, he was indeed a far different child to begin with. She thought about what he had said and looked out toward the village as the sound of children filtered into her hearing from a slight breeze. "No, I could never be quite the same as I had been before. You have shown me a feeling I had once found completely foreign and… I..."
"You love as a woman," he said.
"I love… as a woman," she finished, blushing faintly as she looked away from him. "I will still rule as I did before, but I still hold that truth inside me… I love you as a woman."
Cuchulainn grinned faintly and chuckled, looking away to the little toy "horseless carriage" that the elusive Aunt Mary had given him to occupy himself with. "I need to train myself again," he said after a moment. "For that, I will no longer see you here, but perhaps in my dreams, Arturia."
Arturia gazed at Cuchulainn and felt the need to embrace him, but felt she probably could not do such a thing now. After all, her spirit seemed to have been sent to this place, somewhere in Northern Ireland it seemed, and it gave her the chance to see Cuchulainn where he truly belonged.
"Perhaps, one day," she said softly, smiling faintly at him, "I will see the only knight I will ever need once more."
Cuchulainn turned sharply to look at her in surprise and then his handsome face split into a wide grin she had not seen in a long while. "Aye, one day you will, my king. One day you will."
The world seemed to melt around Arturia at that point. She looked up and then around as the world changed and she found herself sitting in her study with her face firmly planted against her paperwork. She sat up and groaned, rubbing her face with an ink-stained hand. She reached out and took a few good gulps of the water that was next to her and grimaced at the taste of it. She looked in it and a rather dark liquid in it. She looked down at the note next to it and saw Gwenivere's handwriting.
Arthur,
Please take this potion, as I asked Merlin if perhaps you have been feeling unwell as of late. He said it's supposed to have some ingredients in it that will make you feel better and help stave off illness.
Love,
Gwenivere
Arturia frowned at it faintly, but knew how much a worrier her queen could be. She drank the rest of the dark potion and gulped it down a little uneasily before she stood up and walked out of the study to the main chamber. There, seated on a sofa, was Lancelot, in his tunic and trousers and boots. He had his long hair pulled back into a braid behind his head so that it would be out of his way. He looked up as she entered and stood up to bow to her. "My king, are you well?"
"Yes, I am, Sir Lancelot. Is there a problem?" she asked.
"I… have a need to speak with you in private, my king," he said softly, his pale eyes almost penetrating hers to see anything he wanted to see in them. It made her feel very uneasy, but this was more Lancelot than when Cuchulainn had been in his body.
She nodded to him eventually and bade him to enter into the study. She sat down at her desk and offered a seat to him across from her as he closed the door. Lancelot sat down across from her and sat stiffly in the chair proffered to him. "What is it you wish to speak to me in private for, Sir Lancelot?"
"Do you love me?" he asked softly.
"Love? As a knight, I do," she said, frowning faintly at this line of questioning. He seemed relieved somewhat by her answer.
"Do you wish me to take the babe as my own?" he asked.
The thought of her possibly being pregnant struck her. She rubbed her belly and frowned as she looked away, her cheeks turning pink somewhat. "I doubt there will be a child simply from one time," she said.
"Oui, but what if you are pregnant, my lord," he said, stand up and kneeling down in front of her. He gently placed his hands upon hers and stroked them with his thumbs. "You did it because you wanted to know, to feel the one you loved most, but my body isn't that of your lover, my king. It is mine and mine alone. The seed that was shot inside your womb is not that of your lover, either, but mine. If you become pregnant, you might be found out more readily."
"I will hold out the belief that you have not formed a baby inside me for the time being," she said after a moment. "If I do become pregnant… I will then think about what we could do to deal with it. I could have Gwenivere pass it off as hers, but that would be unfair to her. I could give it to you and have you say it was the bastard of a woman you had as a lover a while back, and people would believe it and it would indeed be yours."
"A king needs an heir and Gwenivere has not produced one from you," he said softly. Indeed, he was a very handsome man and gentle. It made Arturia think she might like him as a man, if she did not find herself so tied and wholeheartedly loved and love another man whom she hoped that she would see again one day.
"A king indeed does need an heir… but the king himself should not be the one to produce it in his belly," she said softly, "Especially not from a moment of passion when one of his knights was being controlled by the very forceful spirit of an old legendary hero." She looked up at him and the message was clear. She doubted she was pregnant and if she was she would deal with it as she saw fit.
Lancelot nodded and moved away from Arturia, rubbing his chest idly. "If I might say, my king," he said as he looked away, "That my loyalty is… unshakable. I love my king and hope he lives a good long life, however… is it right to keep Gwenivere so tied to you when she herself might die a virgin, might die without having known the love of a man?"
Arturia looked away to her desk. His eyes at that moment were searching for something that she wished not to give up. A part of her felt angry to suggest that she would force Gwenivere to do anything she did not wish to do, but another part of her clung to the very idea of Gwenivere being at her side. It scared her now to think that Gwenivere might not be there forever.
Lancelot's gaze softened with sympathy. "You feel afraid of the thought that she might not be there. She has been there from almost the very beginning, much like Merlin, however, she is a woman like yourself and able to act as a woman while you can not."
Arturia remained silent before she stood up and walked toward him. "It is more likely I might die before she will, Sir Lancelot. When that day comes, I want you to take care of her."
Lancelot balked at this notion. If Arturia were to die, that meant Camelot might fall into unsavory hands and go to ruin. That was the last thing he wanted! "My lord, please remember you have Avalon and Excalibur. You won't die as easily as that!"
Arturia gazed up at him with a hard expression. "Swear by it, for I won't speak of this again," she said.
Lancelot sighed and bowed his head. "Oui, I shall do as my king bids of me." It wasn't entirely unwanted, though. He did love Gwenivere, but the thought of Gwenivere being "widowed" as it were was not a pleasant thought. He would much prefer if Arturia gave her up or he continued upon his vow to keep himself in check toward Gwenivere. He would not wish to betray his king, but this was making it far more difficult.
Then, he left. Arturia was left to herself as she rubbed her belly. She thought about what had occurred between her and Lancelot and wondered what to make of him. She hoped that she would not have a child by him and hoped that perhaps one day she might simply give the kingship to someone worthy, for she was beginning to feel unworthy of it simply because she had now the idea that she might be forcing a woman to be celibate by the appearance of a marriage that had never really occurred.
