The Last Priestess: Part II
Chapter 11: These Things We Know Are Not Set In Stone
"Marry me."
The words continued to hang in the air, over the head of the King of Camelot, without pity or change. There was no going back, no way to rewind time, or to make a convincing plea against the proposal. His best-friend had proposed to the man she loved, and it was not him. Every bit of logic, and of his surroundings was transformed.
He looked positively distraught and defeated, sitting alone in his silence. She had lifted one man while crushing another. Perhaps he was simply contemplative, she hoped with a hollow sense. Walking slowly to where he sat in silence, Anabelle hesitated momentarily when he looked up at her. His eyes were full of even more rejection from yet another woman.
"Arthur." She whispered, her hand running over the cold steel he wore upon his shoulders. She sat beside him only as he touched her hand, bringing her down closer to him. "Is there anything that I can say?"
His demeanor changed in seconds, turning to his friend. "What do you mean?" He innocently questioned.
Anabelle gave a skeptical look in his direction.
"No." He smiled, but could do nothing to mask the resurfacing pain in his heart.
""I did not expect that I would ask for his hand instead." She confessed. "I did not truly think that I would have the courage to see it through until the moment it happened."
Arthur took her hands with his, shifting his body to hers. "Anabelle, I would never want to see you unhappy. I would do anything within my power to see that you have every bit of happiness in your life. I would never deny you love."
"You are not upset that it's him, and not you?"
"Of course I'm upset." He said with a smile, his mocking tone causing her to chuckle with him. "Don't worry so much Anabelle. My only wish is to see you happy."
She could hear the half lie in his words, but didn't have the energy or the heart to push the issue with him. As she stood, feeling even more guilt was over her, with a bordering of anger beginning to surface as he did not tell her of his own pain, Anabelle no only wanted to find a way of diverting her own sadness for her friend. This was a time for her to be happy, and yet she found much of it disappearing. Anabelle was oblivious of the guarding Knight who had been keenly watching as she quietly watched Arthur stand and walk away from her. Picking up her own nearby sword, the emotional Princess moved to slashing at a nearby tree, her mind focusing on what was needed more. She would soon face Trystan, his magic, and the truth of what had become of her realm since her departure. She soon felt unprepared.
"Anabelle, what are you doing?" The watchful Knight inquired of her behavior.
She stopped, feeling both drained and frustrated once more. Setting the sword down and breathing hard, she faced the man to her left.
"I'm feeling unprepared and untrained." She told him. "I was thinking that maybe if I felt better ready to face Trystan, I might feel less apprehensive about this risky journey."
Gwaine leaned against the tree that she had massacred. He could not ignore the lack of confidence in his Princess since Arthur had agreed to this journey. He had not once seen the young woman looking so insecure. Anabelle had always been so prepared by every situation she suggested or faced. Fear had showed in her actions only a handful of times, but this was the first occasion the Knight had witnessed the vulnerability within her. It worried him more than anything else. Anabelle could face Trystan, she could defend herself without trouble or fear, but not if she hesitated or doubted. There had to be more he could do to set her at ease; to convince her that she was ready for this. Placing a hand to her shoulder, the concerned man had to walk away, figuring he did not yet know any reasonable answer to give Anabelle. He did however know someone who might have an opinion. At this point, it was his only and best option.
"I can understand her concern." Arthur spoke quietly to his trusted Knight and friend. "Trystan has magic- he can separate Anabelle from all of us whenever he chooses. We have to assume that will be his plan. It would be unwise of him to face any of us protecting Anabelle. He must know that already."
"He may not yet be aware that Anabelle is also further trained in our battle drills and strategies."
"That will work to our advantage and to hers, so long as he is in fact unsuspecting of her abilities."
"Anabelle herself is uncertain and unsuspecting of her own abilities." Gwaine argued. "I fear that if she remains tentative, she may indeed be harmed."
Arthur nodded. "You make a good point." He agreed, looking over to where Anabelle sat beside Mordred, her expression seeming worrisome.
"We must reassure her of her capabilities."
"Again, I agree, but…" The King stopped mid-sentence, contemplating an idea of his own.
"Arthur, what are you thinking?" Gwaine questioned before Arthur enlightened him in secret.
It was not long after his short conversation with the King that Gwaine was off and running to set a new training exercise into motion.
"She is not going to be fully prepared or confident unless we are willing to properly instruct her." Gwaine was already arguing with Leon as the two sparred together.
"I am not arguing that point, but…"
"And the King, her best-friend, agrees to this. Technically, it was his idea."
"Yes, but…"
"What could you possibly have to say against this now?"
"She is not ready for such a brutal training exercise."
"The King thinks that she is."
"She will be injured." Leon continued to disagree. "The circle of Fire is dangerous and unpredictable. Even the most skilled of Knights are unable to face it or succeed through such a gauntlet."
Gwaine smirked. "Anabelle is well more prepared than you are giving her credit for Leon."
Leon stopped their training, standing still, lowering his weapon to his side. "If the King is so committed to the idea, and Anabelle does not protest, we should let her try."
Gwaine happily patted Leon's arm, glad to have him aboard the extreme and risky plan. His happiness drifted slightly, seeing that Arthur and Anabelle were currently in a lowered argument, likely over this plan.
"I'm glad you are agreed." Gwaine told his friend. "Now, you can help me convince the overprotective and love-sick husband-to-be, who is not going to accept this aas easily as you."
"Get your sword ready." Leon joked. "He's going to attempt a few murders when we approach him." The two men laughed, both noticing now the arguing Princess who tried to hide her anger and apprehension in conversation with the King.
"Gwaine tells me that you continue to feel doubtful of facing Trystan." Arthur came up behind Anabelle, his arms reaching around her small waist to pull her to his chest. Mordred had been only a few feet in distance from the two, but knew his love was safe in the hands of the King, leaving the pair to talk.
Allowing him the closeness that he too needed from her, she tried to relax more than she was, settling into the hum of his words on her skin.
"I don't know that I am ready. I thought I could do this. He is trying to kill me for pity's sake."
"Anabelle." Arthur stopped her from losing control. "You cannot doubt yourself or hesitate. I am sure that Gwaine has made mention of that in your training. Hesitation will get you killed. Doubt will put you at the mercy of your enemies."
She nodded, feeling his arms tighten as his face rested near to her neck.
"Gwaine and I have an exercise that will guide you and help to reduce any reservation you may have."
Removing herself from his hold, Anabelle turned to her Arthur. "What kind of drill?"
Taking her by the hand, her recoil was hard to ignore. "The exercise is called a Circle of Fire. It is more or less a gauntlet." He explained, looking subtly to Gwaine who gave a short nod.
"It is a circle of the Knights, with one person blindfolded in the middle of the circle."
"Blindfolded?" Anabelle took in a sharp breath.
"It is an exercise meant to mentally and physically train you."
Shaking her head back and forth, the Princess showed her disdain for the idea, trying then to push the King out of her way. This conversation was not helping her nerves in any way. "Tell me you are joking, because there is no way in hell that I can defend myself against you and your Knights while blindfolded."
She pointed a finger at his chest. "This is trial by fire Arthur. Whose idea was it to put me through a gauntlet of battle hungry fighters, blindfold me, and expect that I can shield myself against any one of them? I especially cannot fight you blindfolded Arthur. It's suicide."
The King would not be able to hide his own guilt from this woman- Any other man or woman but this one, so admission was the best and only policy to follow. "It was my idea my sweet Anabelle." He tried flattery and sweetness to calm her. "I have sworn to protect you in any way that I can. If I must push you in ways that seem harsh, then so be it. I love you too damned much to lose you."
She knew he meant the last part more than anything, but it didn't make the idea of facing off against the Knights any easier.
"Trial by firing squad." She repeated.
Finally finished arguing over the waiting gauntlet, Anabelle and Arthur couldn't help but notice that every Knight who had joined this journey was currently having trouble attempting to subdue Mordred, who was trying everything to get passed each of them in order to attack Gwaine. Clearly, Mordred had taken this idea worse than Anabelle. The royal pair moved swiftly in opposite direction to assist in halting the impending battle between brothers.
"Mordred." Anabelle stepped in front of her betrothed, blocking his path to Gwaine. If anyone could stop him, it was her. "Mordred my love." Her palm touched to his face gently, causing his eyes to finally meet hers. The fire and rage within them finally began to subside as she walked him away a few steps.
"You have agreed to this idea. Arthur has again made you think this is a reasonable plan."
"This has nothing to do with the King." She reasoned with the angry man. "I have ultimately accepted this idea only because I am certain that no man here would ever see me harmed intentionally. You must know that as well Mordred. Gwaine would not suggest this if he did not think that I am capable."
"I will not…I cannot."
Anabelle understood the attempt he now made to say that he could not swallow the idea of fighting against her at full force within the circle. She nodded, turning then back to Arthur, who kept Gwaine in hand.
"Arthur, if I am to face this gauntlet, then I will not face my intended with a sword or any other weapon. He is exempt from this exercise."
"Agreed." Arthur accepted.
Breathing in a small sigh of relief, she returned her composed demeanor to Mordred. "You must understand the necessity of this. I did not at first either, but it is an evil that must be faced before true evil shows its face." She smiled when he took her into his arms, holding her as she too needed. "I can do this."
"I do not doubt your ability Anabelle, but I would see you further trained before facing this."
Anabelle chuckled, pulling away from him as she spoke out to Gwaine. "My husband-to-be is worried that I am not properly trained Gwaine."
Gwaine laughed out loud, facing the Princess. "Shall we show him how trained you are?"
"Now?" She questioned.
Gwaine and Arthur shrugged to one another, grabbing their swords, moving with the other Knights to form what was more of an oval than a circle. Anabelle nodded, kissing Mordred fiercely before than she had even when they had agreed to marry.
Then moving forward towards Arthur, away from Mordred, and into a semi-circle of hard trained Knights, Anabelle was handed her sword. Arthur stepped forward, taking her hand with his, and kissing her cheek as Gwaine moved to blindfold her.
"Anabelle," Gwaine whispered into her ear. "you have an instinctive ability of always surprising us. Anytime I think you can't handle something, you have proven me wrong." His palms swept down her arms as she gripped tighter to her weapon of choice. "You can do this."
"Being blindfolded, you will not once know whom you are fighting against." Arthur told her, backing away from her. "What I want you to do, what I need you to believe in this situation, is that every man you are defending against could be Trystan. See only his face Anabelle. This is a fight. You need to win."
"One final lesson." She whispered to herself before taking in a deep breath, giving a signal for the first of the men to attack.
The first person she fought, Anabelle was aware of his identity. The only Knight who would dare to go easy on her would have been Leon. When he swung at her, advanced upon her, or shielded against her, it was with a tentative and unsettling heart. She would not face as much timidity from others she was certain. She could not see Arthur letting her get away with nerves in fighting him. She was almost positive of his identity when he fought her as well. His movement was more fluid, more certain within his footing. Anabelle did not want to hesitate in their clash, so she did exactly as he had instructed. Seeing only Trystan's face, his movement, and his demeanor when she fought , she might've hurt the King if not for another Knight taking his place. Anabelle swung hard and fierce finally, fighting as though her life were depending upon it. The man she now fought had trouble keeping her from his own armor. After each Knight had given her a test in skill, strength, endurance, and plain battle, the King called a halt to the experiment that had worked.
Breathing hard and heavy, Anabelle didn't feel the weakness in her anymore. Once Arthur had called the drill to a finish, Anabelle kept her sword at the ready, still prepared for any unexpected surprise that would be thrown at her.
"Anabelle, remove you can remove the blindfold." Gwaine spoke, closing in her with the other Knights.
As she unmasked her face, she was surrounded then by the men she had just fought. Smiling back, she wiggled out of her own armor, noticing the soreness. She had received multiple cuts, bruises, and scrapes over the past hour of fighting. Unable to linger of any potential injuries, she was swung into the air , arms circling her in joy before she knew it.
"I am so proud of you Anabelle." Leon happily spoke to her, his own smile reaching from ear to ear.
"Anabelle, you did wonderfully." Gwaine added. "I have never seen anyone walk into the circle and fight as you did. What brought on the fierceness in you?"
Setting her feet to the ground, she answered, a twinge of pain finally setting in. "Trystan brought on my fierceness. My anger for him, my willingness to survive. All I could see was him in front of me."
"That seemed to do it." Arthur spoke, seeing her wincing in pain. His arm thrust around her, he helped her to sit gently. "I thought you might take my head off."
"You nearly struck the point of your sword to his chest." Anabelle listened to Mordred say as he too commented on her abilities. "I would not see you in the Circle ever again, but to watch you then, I realize that Gwaine and Arthur have trained you far better than any of us could imagine."
"I'm not so good that I would take any of you on in a real battle, but it did feel nice to know that I am more prepared than I had assumed."
"Anabelle," Arthur sat beside her, his hands linked with hers once again. "That was a real battle. You have taken up defense against me and shown that you are skilled. I make no joke to say that you are ready for anything."
"Yes. I am especially ready to sleep. You have exhausted me to the point of endangerment, and now I only want to rest."
"Of course my sweet."
Standing with her at his side, Anabelle was lifted in the arms of the King, taken immediately to where she could find rest, and was asleep in his arms before being set down. Night fell only hours later, bringing Anabelle to the arms of her love as the King took watch over his friends. Unfortunately, the restful sleep that she had been experiencing was soon interrupted by her dreams of a wedding. The new pressures and hurried plans of her wedding were upon her mind as she slept, so her dream was not as surprising as it may have been to some. No, the surprising part was still to come.
Walking down the aisle of the Pendragon Throne room made her feel safe. She was loved by everyone who watched her enter. She was protected and made to feel as important as the King himself. She had hoped once or twice that it would be the King to walk beside her down the aisle, bringing her to the hands of the man she would promise herself to, but instead it was Gwaine who smiled brightly at her side.
Her dress was more beautiful than she could imagine. The white silk clung to her curves, draped by the darker lace. The train had followed with the long veil covering her eyes from the man she could not reach fast enough. Finally reaching the steps of the altar, she turned to Gwaine who exchanged her hand into that of the man she would marry, a hand she recognized as that of the King.
"Anabelle," He spoke. "I have waited for this moment for so long. My love for you is unconditional and forever."
"Arthur," The Princess smiled, admiring the robes he wore. "My Arthur. I love you more than any will ever know. Nothing will make me happier than to be with you forever, and no man can ever make me as happy."
Anabelle sat straight up, feeling the cold whip over her body as sweat poured from her skin. It was not a dream she had thought unexpected, but her choice of groom was clear. She had chosen Mordred. She would marry Mordred. So, why was she dreaming of marrying the King? She looked down at the man who slept soundlessly beside her, his hands upon her always. Removing herself carefully from him, she stood, walking to where Arthur stood guard.
When he saw the look on her face, he knew something was wrong. The pressures and trouble within her eyes was personal. Whatever she would have to say would be nothing to do with anyone but him. He knew his Anabelle well enough to know that much.
"We need to talk." She stated. "I just had a dream, and it is nothing I would expect."
Sitting down on the ground, his arms wrapped again to her, the two talked quietly away from the other men.
"I miss this." Arthur spoke out loud. "Being able to sit down with you, hold you, and talk as though neither of us has care."
"I had a dream that I was marrying you Arthur." She admitted, causing his hands to free her only a few inches.
"You and I were marrying?"
"Which is insane. Right? You already have a Queen. I am marrying Mordred, and I feel like some cosmic Freudian joke is rummaging around in my dreams."
"Freudian?" He inquired, but Anabelle waved off the future reference.
"We have loved one another in the past, but since then we have both also found love and commitment with other partners. Do you think we made some mistake? Should we have first experienced the joys and hardships of being together before finding our future?"
Arthur was confused by her line of questions. "What are you saying? Are you asking if we should have attempted a relationship before setting ourselves upon paths of destructive marriages or this engagement of yours?
"That is exactly what I am saying." Anabelle shifted in his hold, his arms kept around her waist as she had no choice but to straddle her friend in order to face him. "I don't take much stock in fate or destiny. I know that there are certain parts of history that are fixed, but I wonder what might have been if we had tried. I wonder what might be now if I had known true love before Trystan."
Arthur laughed. "The Universe is playing a sick joke on me." He let go of the Princess, letting her move to stand. "If you had once let me love you, there would have been no need for the pain I am in today. Our lives would certainly be different than they are Anabelle, but we can't go back. Can we?"
"No. We cannot go back. But perhaps we can still find that experience somehow. Someone wise in my realm always told me that my dreams have meaning. They are answers to questions I dare not ask myself. This particular dream scared the hell out of me. I want to know what it means."
"What would you suggest?" The King asked, holding onto his friend as she leaned up, kissing him as he had once hoped she would long before now. Kissing her back, he could feel heat rising within him. To extinguish the building fire would prove impossible. They were friends. They had never let go of their emotions enough to feel so much. As she backed away, she stayed close.
"There is a way to know what might have been without ruining our friendship Arthur." Anabelle told him. "Do you trust me still?"
"With my life."
"No one can know about this Arthur." She warned. "No one. Especially your Knights. What happens and what is spoken about, must be kept between you and me."
"I agree." He said, wondering how exactly she planned to have such an experience while still engaged to Mordred.
