SAME DISCLAIMER AS IN CHAPTER 1

I'm back. Life got in the way of fun…

Thanks SO very much for the wonderful reviews!
They really keep me going (in spite of life getting in the way ;-))

This was a very tricky chapter to write and I hope it lives up to your expectations…
It is also the longest one yet, and I apologize for that.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 25: Owning the fire

Helene was totally at a loss of what was going on. During the banquet the mood of her mistress had shifted so many times that she had been unable to keep proper track. And according to some not-so-veiled comments from Merlin—who had been next to her the entire time—the Prince's disposition had been far from steady as well.

After walking in from the balcony where both royals had secluded themselves, Gwynn had announced a headache and retired promptly. Since her mistress had kept her mouth shut, Helene had not wanted to ask. Nonetheless, something was strange.

While removing the pins and pearls from the Princess hair, the sharp lady in waiting realized that the headache was clearly only an excuse. Although quite somber, Gwynn seemed as healthy as always.

Immerse in all sorts of hypotheses that would explain this peculiar behavior, Helene jumped slightly at a soft knock on the door. Who could be at this hour?

Gwynn, however, didn't even seem surprised.
"It must be Prince Arthur. Please, Helene, let him in."

To say that the lady in waiting was shocked was the understatement of the century. Her mistress was expecting the Camelot Prince in her quarters and it was acting like she thought nothing of it?

Not only that, but from the earlier 'I need to displease him' to the recent 'please let him in' there was a chasm that, if asked, Helene would have deemed quite large as a matter of fact. Should she be worried about Gwynn's sanity?

In spite of the dear friendship that united both ladies, Helene never forgot her place. She was Gwynn's friend, confidant and comfort… but the Princess was a grown up woman and knew was she was doing…

At least that was what the petite blonde was hoping when she opened the door.
"Good evening, your highness."
"Good evening, Helene."

Arthur noticed the hesitation in the servant lady and understanding the situation, he tried to appease her uneasiness.

"Do not worry, my lady. The Princess is perfectly safe with me." He tried his best comforting smile. "You have my word."

Helene blushed in embarrassment when she realized that her eyes had betrayed her and she had said too much without even speaking a word. It was definitely not her place to question a royal's behavior, yet once again the Prince had showed sympathy for her plight. Indeed a rare occurrence and—just like in Eleara—she had the keen intuition that the Camelot Prince was much more than he appeared to be.

Smiling in gratitude, she curtsied.
"The Princess will be with you momentarily my lord."

Thinking that the wine was undoubtedly to blame… or to thank depending on how one looked at it, Gwynn felt strangely at ease—considering what she was about to disclose—while walking into the antechamber of her quarters. In any case, she'd been convincing herself that the truth would set her free… Hopefully.

The Prince was carefully observing a painting on the wall. His crown and royal robe were gone and he looked more like the Knight she knew. She liked that.

"Hello again."

Arthur turned on his heels tearing his gaze from the portrait of a boy and a gorgeous red-haired little girl that had captivated him as soon as he had stepped into the room. The Princess was still dressed on that velvety… maddening red dress, which made his hands burn with the need to touch it… or rather: her again.

To his fascination and dismay, she had her hair down, which now flowed freely past her hips, highlighted with golden strikes under the orange glow of the hearth. Breathing in her beauty, the Prince feared his concentration might have been compromised by her looks.

Had she been planning on distracting him from the upcoming conversation?
He smiled inwardly.
Although she had been quite forthcoming about this meeting, he should probably not put it past her completely.

"My lady…"

The smile on his lips slowly disappeared when his brain began to process the situation. The calmed atmosphere reminded him of a raining morning in a library when they had become friends—false pretenses aside—and had freely expressed what was truly in their hearts.

The last time they had faced each other like this, however, it had been in his quarters and a royal battle of wills had ensued; battle that unfortunately had ended with injuries in both sides and no real winner.

He was curious about what new surprise tonight would bring. Her relaxed demeanor was to some extent unexpected and Arthur had to wonder—just like he'd done many times before—if he would ever be able to accurately guess Gwynn's actions. He had to swallow a chuckle: most likely not.

He shook his head to clean his thoughts and signaled the painting on the wall with an impish smile.
"Why were you so mad in this portrait?"

Gwynn lifted her eyes, curious, and let out a chuckle. "How do you know I was mad?"

"Maybe because your eyes are blazing in the same way you look at me when you are angry...?" He grinned playfully.

She laughed lowly. "The artist kept asking me to stay still and I hated it… Aylwin took me riding every day we had a sitting for the portrait to appease my annoyance… It was my brother's way to keep me out of trouble with our parents." She sighed with a hint of sadness. "I was five…"

Arthur kept looking intently at the picture. The small anecdote brought back his own memories of Morgana and all the tomfooleries they had done as children; the arguments and the pranks, and yet how they always had protected each other from Uther's disciplinary actions… His face saddened. Where would she be now?

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Gwynn moving closer to him until the familiar perfume of jasmine inundated his senses and brought him back.

"You look pensive, your highness…" She observed.

He probably had no intention to disclose his deeply personal thoughts, but the familiarity of the moment somehow overwhelmed him… For different reasons, they had both lost a dear sibling.

"I was… This picture reminded me of my youth with Morgana..." He smiled a sad smile. "She was the closest to a sister I'd ever had… And I was wondering where she would be now."

The Princess was surprised. "She is not in Camelot?"

Arthur turned towards the picture once again to hide the hurt in his eyes. "No… She left." He inhaled forcefully and his voice became colder. "A sorceress turned her heart against my father and Camelot… Magic turned her against her family."

Out of everything he could have said, nothing would have shaken Gwynn more than that statement. She swallowed a nervous gasp but couldn't stop her words in time and mumbled to herself:

"You really are not making this easy."

"I beg your pardon?" His surprised confusion was evident.

Blushing furiously, she quickly searched for some way to take her foot out of her mouth. "I meant… It was probably not easy for you…"

The Prince frowned. That didn't sound at all like what she just said…
In any case, the interruption was welcomed as it brought him back from his dark thoughts. Now they could hopefully talk as planned.

They sat in front of each other and Arthur reckoned that if he didn't start, she wouldn't.
"Thank you for granting me this audience, Princess."

"No need to be so formal, Sire. I know I owe you an explanation… It would have been easier, though, if you would simply have taken my word for it."

The hint of reproach in her voice forced Arthur to think for a second before answering.
"That is a fair statement… Perhaps if I hadn't gotten to know you as I did in Eleara, my lady, I probably would have… However, after sharing what we've shared…" He kept his tone as neutral as possible… "I guess I need to understand why the idea of marrying me is such a burden for you…"

Gwynn blushed and looked away.
"It is not you, Sire. By now I think you know that…"

Encouraged by her response and caught in an unexpected honest spree, the Prince continued.
"I would like to believe that, my lady. But in spite of some of the words I've said under a fist of anger… I am honestly not sure…" He thought for a minute. "Is it because Ascetir?"

Her reply was quick, but her gaze was kept concealed.
"No, my lord. Though Ascetir is a painful memory for me, and I stand by what I said in my letter, that was also another excuse…"

Obstinately watching her hands, she continued. "I've been… giving you all sort of excuses because first I've been afraid… and then… ashamed of telling you the truth, my lord."

"Gwynn… I would never…"

Still not looking at him, she interrupted before her courage disappeared.
"I know that when you learn my secret you would most likely despise me, my lord. And I just did not want to face that."

The Prince was appalled.
"Despise you Gwynn? That's impossible!" He leaned towards her grabbing her cold hands. "Do you have any idea what you have done to me Princess?" He searched for the words. "You… You have made me feel like there is hope again… And I …"

She looked up swiftly, her eyes full of tears. "Please Arthur… Do not say words that you will have to take back later."

Arthur got lost in her eyes and swallowed hard.
She had said his name for the first time ever since they'd met and he couldn't believe how marvelous it sounded in her lips. And in that moment he reckoned that nothing she could say would matter as long as she continued calling him by his given name …

His amazed smile lighted up his face. "You've said my name…" was all he mustered.

Reddening profusely under the intensity of his eyes, the Princess tried to rescue her hands. But he wouldn't have any of that and kept them firmly encased in his large, warm ones.

His happiness, however, was short lived.

"The truth is, my lord." She stressed the formal treatment putting distance again between them. "That despite the attraction that might exist between us, I cannot be your queen…"

It was a blow in his guts. He had heard those words before—though from different lips—more times than he cared to count.

They still hurt like hell. His past pain came crushing down on him and it mixed up with his increasing emotional frustration at her sudden reluctance.

This time he wouldn't take the statement at face value. This time he would demand an explanation. His shoulders stiffened and he sat back, his gaze growing a steely dark blue.

"Care to explain?" Though he probably didn't intend it that way, his question sounded like a royal order that admitted no discussion.

Gwynn sighed in defeat. After all her failed, silly efforts, it had come to this anyway...
She should finish it.

"All right." She conceded softly and sat straight too, effectively freeing her hands this time.

"This is why I cannot marry you, Prince Arthur Pendragon …" Her tone grew colder towards the end of the sentence, and the Prince felt freezing when she pronounced his house's name.

Without further ado, she flicked her wrist and the remaining unlit candles in the room were lighted at once.

Arthur felt trapped in an alternate universe.
What has just happened there?

He looked around at the newly lit candles slowly, taking in the revelation. After several minutes that felt like hours to Gwynn, the prince turned icy eyes to her.

"You… " He chocked. "You are a … sorceress…" There was a spiteful disdain in his voice and the princess cowered back in her seat.

"No. I am not." She defended weakly.

Arthur saw he was frightening her and tried to control his anger.
This could NOT be happening to him.

"You, my lady" He punctuated with barely contained fury, "have just lit up all the candles in the room with a twist of your hand. And yet you deny being a sorceress…"

His smile was cold and his silken tone was dangerous to say the least.
"What, pray tell, are you taking me for?"

In the midst of her fear, Gwynn managed to get upset.
He had wanted the truth, hadn't he? And now he was calling her a liar? The nerve!

"Right now Sire?" She arched an eyebrow, her voice drenched with sarcasm. "Simply for an ignorant fool!"

Her words and derisive tone felt like a strike on his face and his cheeks burned at the insult. He leaned closer with killer eyes and she backed away in her seat. Good, because he was not sure what he was capable of doing at that moment.

"Thread carefully, milady." He warned. "And please explain to this… ignorant fool" he stressed and she winced at her choice of words. "How is it that you are NOT a sorceress even though all evidence points to it."

Unable to stand the coldness in his eyes, Gwynn looked away and after a moment spoke softly.

"I have never studied magic, or enchantments, or sorcery." She turned her gaze back to him; her face was so sad that his heart skipped a beat at the sight. "I was born this way."

The infinite sorrow in her beautiful green eyes was impossible to endure and now it was Arthur who had to look down. Rising from his chaise he walked to stand in front of the fireplace; his ire was slowly draining from his body only to be replaced by an awful helplessness… He wished he could understand but he truly did not.

Although her heart was literally breaking in pieces, something akin to peace filled Gwynn's chest. Her most guarded, shameful secret was finally out…

"You do not believe me" She stated in a whisper.

Arthur didn't look at her. He actually couldn't. After a long silence he spoke again.
"How can I?"

Tears began seriously flooding her eyes. Oh…What would she give to do not go through this… Not with him.

"You think…" Her voice chocked a bit in the verge of her tears spilling, but she conquered them and continued speaking. "You think that magic is something that it's an option for every one?"

There was so much incredulity in her tone that Arthur turned to her, more confused than ever.
"Is it not?"

His question was so honest that if it hadn't been for her tears, Gwynn would have possibly broken up in a bitter laugh. He truly had no idea…

"Goodness, your highness… How can you be so… badly informed?" She was glad to have found a more suitable way of depicting his ignorance on the subject. "You and your father pursue and condemn magic… and yet you know nothing of it?"

Her next question, however, was downright accusatory.
"What kind of justice system does Camelot have then?"

Arthur frowned in indignation and his pride made him respond without thinking.
"We do what it's best for our people!"

"Says who?"

Though the promptness of her retort was challenging, the question in itself was far from cynical; the Prince knew that much and couldn't hold her eyes. He looked away again and did not answer. Nevertheless, Uther Pendragon's name clearly filled the ominous silence of the room.

"That is why I cannot marry you, Prince. Your father would have me killed without a trial."

Arthur turned back, horrified.
"He wouldn't!"

But when he saw Gwynn's eyes full of pity at his naïveté, he knew that his answer had only been wishful thinking.

"Really, my lord?" She spoke softly. "Has your father never killed innocent people?"

It was another blow in his guts and his knuckles went white for the strength of his grip on the hearth's mantel. Images of the death of Gwen's father; and Gaius almost being burnt at the stake came rushing to his memory.

He felt sick to his stomach and Gwynn felt sorry for him.

"With all due respect, your highness" She went on with a low, tired voice. "Your father is paranoid when it comes to magic… You know it as well as I do."

When he didn't answer she knew he had somehow consented. Maybe she should tell him everything.
"And that's why my uncle wants me to go to Camelot… To expose my… gift to your father so he would execute me."

"That… cannot be true…" It was not an accusation; rather a wholly aghast statement.

"But it is." She took a deep breath to gather courage for the next part."My uncle has always wanted the kingdom. I believe he is responsible for my family's death…"

Arthur swallowed hard. He would not have been able to say anything at that moment, not even to save his life.

As difficult as it was to try and speak holding back her tears, Gwynn pushed on. "Unfortunately for him, I survived. The law says that once I marry, my husband and I would inherit the throne. However, if I die before marrying, Ruther would." She paused for a moment and inhaled shakingly.

"My uncle is a superstitious man. He took my survival as an omen and did not dare to attempt against my life again by himself for fear of being cursed. That's why he concocted this plan. Somehow he'd learned of my powers and wanted for Uther to discover them as well… And kill me."

The Prince couldn't believe what he was hearing. And yet everything made perfect sense.

"When I could not stop this for happening, the only thing it occurred to me was our previous encounter in Eleara. I thought that if I could convince you that our union was ill fated, you would break the deal for me and I would not have to visit Camelot." Pause. "I cannot go to Camelot my lord…"

Her tears were finally running down her cheeks as an immense relief enveloped her. The whole truth was out and an enormous weight had been lifted from her heart.
Whatever the outcome, Gwynn felt free at last…

Arthur, on the other hand, was in hell.
He had kept a stern look towards the fire, trying to process the information.
It was simply too much… and too wrong. And he realized that he believed every word.
The fact that his father's obsession could be used against innocent people made him sick.

He also realized that he had been indeed… How had she called him? Oh, yes… an ignorant fool.

All his life he had been taught to believe in something, but it had never occurred to him to question it. And in doing so, he had been a silent accomplice of his father's actions.

He ran his hand through his hair.
Heavens… If it hadn't been for Merlin and Gwen, even Gaius, after all his years of loyal service to Camelot, would have also been victim of his father's paranoia.

And now, this marvelous princess who had stolen his heart without even knowing it, was at his mercy. What was he to do?

Maybe his father's entire view of magic had indeed been wrong...
Maybe learning about magic and knowing about it could bring more justice to Camelot and the people.

His emotions were running so wild that only by virtue of his long years of royal training he was able to regain some of his seriously shaken composure. He just needed to know…

"You've said you were born… this way…With these powers… When did you learn about them?"

"There was an extremely bad storm… I believe I was six…The ocean was raging and the wind blew furiously and I was very scared. I screamed calling my mother and the candles of my room lighted up." She smiled between tears at the memory. "My mother told me then that I had been granted special powers by my foremothers… That these powers came from my emotions and that when the time came she would teach me what they meant and how to control them…" She swallowed a sob with difficulty. "We've never got the chance…"

Acting on impulse, Arthur rushed to sit next to her on the chaise. He didn't dare to touch her, fearful of upsetting her further, but a devastating urgency to comfort her had taken hold of him.

Pulling strength from the memory of her mother, Gwynn continued her story wanting for nothing else than to get everything out.
"And on the day my family died… We were ambushed and outnumbered. My mother pushed me through a hidden door in the bottom of the carriage and told me to run as fast as I could. She made me promise I would not turn around… I ran as I was told… but I couldn't help looking back. And I saw them fighting... Everyone was dying… Everyone…"

She sobbed loudly and tried to dry her tears with her sleeve, only to have them coming back twofold.
"Then it happened. I screamed in horror and everything started catching fire… The carriage, the bandits… everything… I screamed and cried for I don't know how long… And finally, when there was none alive, the fire subsided and everything went black…"

Throwing caution to the wind, the Prince embraced her strongly against his chest. He could physically feel her pain sifting through him and a primal need to ease such unimaginable hurt swept him over. His eyes went back to the portrait and his throat contracted in a knot. Such a wonderful, innocent child… amidst all that horror.

"Someone found me and I was brought back to the castle… I didn't speak for a long time, I was terrified not only of what I've seen, but also about what I've done. I never wanted to try and hone the powers after that." She looked at him with the deepest grief Arthur had ever seen. "I can now light candles on my will… but I do not know what else I am capable of… I… I don't want to know."

The knot in Arthur's throat was asphyxiating as he cradled her sobbing body in his arms. His head was hurting badly with so much unexpected information, but that was nothing compared with the hurt of his heart…

He was not only out of words… He wasn't even sure what he was feeling anymore except an all-consuming need to protect her… to somehow make it better… He almost scoffed at the absurdity of the idea… Nothing would ever make it better.

After a long while, Gwynn's sobs stopped and she sat back, facing him. She tried a shaky smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"I apologize, my lord, for my emotional display… I… haven't spoken of this in a very long time."

"Please, my lady… Your apology is absolutely unwarranted. I…" For all his royal eloquence, Arthur was having trouble finding the right words. "I cannot begin to fathom what you had been through…"

The Prince fell silent; words were inconsequential at the moment. His penetrating gaze, though, remained locked in hers… which was now a brighter green than ever and—amazingly—serene.

How could she do it?
How could she be the person she was after being through that hell?

Astonished, and against all odds, he discovered that he was probably even more mesmerized by her than before… The memory of her lips came back igniting his longing; but all these developments had put their relation under another perspective.

It was as if a glass wall had been placed between them… He could still see her clearly and close… yet she was now unreachable.

He could yield to his desire, break the glass, kiss her with the desperation he had brewing inside and later deal with the implications of it… Or, he could leave now, go back to Camelot and spend the rest of his life trying to forget her.

If the former, he'd be committing treason against his King… If the latter, she would be left alone at Ruther's mercy, and the Gods only knew for how long his superstitions would stop him from trying to kill her again…

It was maddening to think in terms of such simplistic dichotomy…
There had to be another way.
He had to find another way…

And maybe, just maybe, there was someone who could help him to do that.
There was only one way to know.

Standing up, she spoke cheerlessly bringing him out of his contemplations.
"Is this a good enough reason, my lord?"

Lost in his thoughts still, Arthur assented bitterly noticing that the Princess had decided to adjourn the meeting. Not that he could blame her. The entire confession had obviously taken its toll on her.

"You could say that my lady."

"I have only one last request, my lord… No one knows about this except Helene…" She paused and breathed in deeply. "Her father was a royal guard and also died that day… fighting for mine…"

"Your secret is safe with me my lady…" He reassured running his thumbs over her tear stained cheeks. "We are still friends, aren't we?"

A blinding smile was her mute response and Arthur had to wonder if perhaps breaking the glass and kissing her wouldn't be the right way to go about this… It'd be better to leave before her closeness entrapped him again and made him do something inopportune.

"I shall retire now, my lady." He kissed both her hands finding that departing was easier said than done. "But we shall continue our conversation some other time… if you'd accept."

Gwynn nodded, still cocooned in the wonderful feeling of freedom her admission had brought forth; her royal composure completely back.
"It'd be a pleasure, my lord… And thank you."

He smiled gloomily from the door and left.