~Author's Note~
Welcome back all! I hope you liked the last chapter! From the feedback that I have gotten, I see that you all liked the chappy! I'm super happy! I wasn't too sure if it was very sudden or if you would not like it; but yay! Thank you all for the reviews, you guys are sweethearts and now were a chapter closer to the end :$ Gahhh! I'm excited! I hope you all are too! Tell me what you're looking forward to seeing in the following chapters! Welp, Until then; A bien tot!
Sincerely,
~Ms. AtomicBomb
Determined footsteps were what filled the many corridors of the stone castle. Loud and amplified as no one was speaking and there were barely any guards about. A door was thrown open as Guinevere called out to the person that was sitting on the bed, looking out the window.
"Guinevere," the woman on the bed blinked as she turned her head to the upset female, "what is it this time around? As I recall, I have not done anything to make you upset as of late."
Guinevere crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, "No you have not, you are correct. I am only here to tell you that you need to give me another insight on the future."
"I thought that I had already made it clear that I would not do that again; we both know what happened the last time that I told you."
"Morgana!" The queen gritted her teeth, "You have to do it."
"Or what? You'll execute me? I do not think that will work this time around. The people are already upset with a Queen reagent, they won't stand it if you kill the last Pendragon." Morgana shrugged as she leaned her head on her hand.
Guinevere rolled her eyes and sighed, "Morgana; I promise not to act upon it this time."
"And why should I believe you?"
"Because this is about my child! Morgana! Please! You don't what it feels like to have a child and the need to protect it from everything. Morgana, I must know if my baby is going to die." Guinevere was still being strict, even as she was showing a little bit of weakness.
Morgana huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, "Everyone must die, Guinevere, I think you would be one to know that more than anyone."
"Morgana," the reagent grit between clenched teeth, "You know exactly what I mean. Will my child die an untimely death?"
"Humanity always thinks deaths are untimely, queen." She sat back against the headboard of the bed and watched as Guinevere's red dress moved every now and again.
"I command you to tell me, Morgana!" The brunette yelled as she extended her hand towards the sorceress.
Morgana clucked and tilted her head back, "I do not obey the rules of a fake monarch, I am the daughter of Uther Pendragon and I do not remember making an oath to you."
There was a grunt and then the following words came lightly as if to coax the other female into spilling what she knew, "You know not the pains of a mother, witch, you know not what I am going through."
"Did you think about that when you killed my sister?" Morgana was not going to feel pity for her, she would not forgive her for what she had done to her sister, "When you murdered Arturia? As I know not of being a mother, you know not of being a sister. You know not my pain. I had told you not to act upon fate and yet you thought yourself clever and ruined everything. Your son now holds the same fate as Arturia, and you are to blame."
"I never—"
The pale-green eyed female stopped the other from continuing her sob story, "Whether or not you meant to kill your own son, his blood will stain your hands. I hope that you are prepared for the moment." It was a cruel lie, but Guinevere needed to understand the pain she had caused all those around her.
Guinevere's vision blurred and she shook her head as she covered her mouth, "Please, tell me that it is not true; my son will not die by my hands." Her voice came out as a soft whimper and she was afraid, the vision of the lily in his mouth oh so vivid in her little mind.
"You will be as guilty of your son's death as you are of Arturia's and Lancelot's."
There was silence and Guinevere dropped her head, everything she had done flooding into her mind. She gave a sour frown and looked back up at the other female. "Lancelot is…"
"Yes. Guinevere, at your hands no less." Morgana thought to better dig the hole until the woman felt remorse, "If I were you, I would need to rid my hands of the blood that covers them."
"G-goodbye." Guinevere was shaking, her threatening demeanour lost as she thought about the only thing that she truly had—her son.
:~~~~~~~~:
Arturia awoke in the middle of the night with sweat glistening on her forehead and her throat dry and aching. She had dreamt of when Lancelot had died and the time where he had first tried to kill her. His face haunted her dreams and even in the daylight, she could feel him near her. She sat up slowly on the small bed and took a deep breath as she rubbed her arms.
She closed her eyes shut for a short while and finally ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it so that the dampness would dry off quickly. She gently and hesitantly slipped out of bed after stretching a bit, taking a blanket and wrapping it around herself as she left the tent that she shared with Jeanne.
The moonlight filtered through the blooming trees and she took a deep breath of the sweet smells around her. There were some guards on watch that were chatting a few meters away and it seemed like they had not heard her because they kept on chattering on about the big battle they were to have the following day.
Arturia turned her head towards a small sound that she heard, it sounded as if someone had stepped on a twig. Her green eyes analyzed the darkness in the forest and she noted that a shadow scurried in. Seeing no harm in the darker figure, Arturia followed pursuit.
Arturia continued to follow the figure further into the forest until it stopped and its tracks and she could see as purple shun below the moonlight, "Lancelot…" she breathed softly as the figure turned and revealed the stoic face of her former lover.
"Arturia," a smile replaced the man's frown and grey eyes glistened as they reflected the dull white of the moon through the tree branches.
She looked over his face a couple of times to identify him. It was impossible, he was not actually there… She was not truly seeing him, was she? There was no way that a dead man—a man she saw fall before her eyes—was standing in front of her; a smile on his lips and his grey eyes sparkling, "B-but," tears started to settle at the corner of her eyes as his smile became more loving and less saddening.
"Arturia," he slowly walked to her, landing a ghostly hand on her cheek—which was when she noticed he still wasn't alive, "You are looking as beautiful as ever."
"Lancelot… W-what are you doing here?" She gulped as she tried to touch his hand with her own before he retracted it.
Lancelot shrugged and took a deep breath, "I wanted to see you, make sure that you were alright."
Arturia reached for him, but he would keep a distance between them every time that she took a step forwards, "P-please."
"Don't think of me anymore, my love, I am gone. I will never come back to your arms, you cannot hold me. Do not hold onto me, Arturia, do not."
"But Lancelot, I—"
"No, my love, I will let you free as you will let me." He began to fade, disappear into the dust and Arturia ran to where he stood, but by the time that she reached him there was nothing left of her to hold on to.
"Arturia," she gasped as she shot up from the bed. She looked about to see Merlin sitting next to her bed, a frown on his face and Jeanne hovering behind him.
"M-Merlin?" She looked around the tent to see that she was no longer in the forest under the moonlight, "What am I doing here?"
Merlin looked back at Jeanne and they both exchanged a confused look before turning back to Arturia and blinking down at her, "What do you mean?" Jeanne was the one to ask the question.
"The forest… Lancelot was—he…It was all a dream? B-but…" She was unable to speak in full sentences as she thought about the man in her dreams and how real it all had felt. The leaves under her naked feet, the smell of the sleeping spring forest, the smile on the man's face.
"I cannot fully comprehend, Arturia." Merlin said as his brows were furrowed and his lips were pursed in a straight line.
"I… I had a dream about Lancelot." She looked down at her hand and then ran a finger across her lips as she felt a tinge of guilt in her gut as she thought about the kiss that Diarmuid and she had shared the previous evening.
Merlin stood from the seat slowly and extended a hand to her, "We must go get you that sword now." It was as if he had completely ignored her and helped her out of the bed.
Arturia noticed that Jeanne too was keeping silent as they helped her with her armour and chainmail. It was a refreshing feeling for Arturia, to be a knight once more, to be covered in armour and hold onto a sword. Now that she was going to battle she could take her mind off of Diarmuid and Lancelot.
Both Jeanne and Merlin followed as Arturia exited the tent and they all walked towards the center of the camp. Where it seemed that people were gathered around something.
The sun was beginning to rise and most of the troop already had had breakfast and it had been time for them to begin preparation for their advancement. Merlin had set the time for the midday, but until then, they were all waiting for Arturia to prove herself worthy of leading the army of Camelot.
Many eyes were on her as the crest of the Pendragon household was branded on the breastplate of the armour. It was the wondering eyes that caused her uneasiness and made her fear the fate of all her troops. War lead to death and the many faces of the men around her were subject to it.
Merlin gave a wide smile to the crowd of knights and raised the banner that Jeanne would be holding for the battle, "Men, this is the heir to the Pendragon name, the once and future King of Albion. Arturia Pendragon will lead us all to victory and when we face Guinevere, the mighty King will do Camelot justice."
Arturia stepped into the crowd and in the middle of it was the legendary sword, stuck within a granite igneous rock and imbedded to the hilt. The sword itself was beautiful as she watched only the exposed hilt that seemed to be made out of gold and silver. As she approached the shining object she noted that there were many designs and words carved all over the sword.
"I cannot do this," Arturia turned back to Merlin, a frown on her lips, "There is absolutely no way that I can pull a sword from solid rock."
Merlin smiled reassuringly and nodded, "You can, Arturia, you are the once and future King. You will unite Albion and return in its time of need."
"Merlin, I cannot pull that sword; it has remained there for many years, far more than any of us here have lived, you cannot expect me to pull it. It is simply impossible; do you expect me to be looked upon like a fool?"
"Arturia, have faith in yourself."
The daughter of Uther Pendragon took a deep breath as she positioned her hand on the pommel of the weapon and took another breath. The fear of failure was sneaking into her mind and she was starting to become afraid of the judging stares of the people around her.
She pondered on how she was going to pull it. If she twisted her arm to hold it properly, the force she was going to use to pull it would surely break her arm or dislocate her shoulder. But simply pulling it up with one hand would not hold enough force to make it even budge; and so she wrapped both hands around the grip and gave a silent prayer before giving it all the strength that she had.
But the sword did not budge. She gulped as the sweat trickled from her brow and she tried once again. It would not happen.
"Arturia, you can do it." She heard Jeanne cheer her on and she gave it one last tug, the sword budging slightly and then she pulled on it gently; it slowly slid out. It was a miracle in her eyes as it shun in the bright sunlight and she felt its familiar weight in her hands as she pulled it fully out of the stone.
A gasp resonated from the crowd of onlookers as Arturia lifted the sword in the air.
"The true heir of Uther Pendragon will lead us all to victory." Merlin announced and everyone cheered.
"Long Live the King." It was repeated by the crowd in unison and Jeanne had run up to Arturia and hugged her tightly.
"My King," she smiled as she pulled away from the hug and Arturia returned the small gesture.
Arturia looked down at the sword again and read the words inscribed on the fuller of the sword. Ancient words she could not recognize but she knew were important and probably were a prophecy that she had yet to fulfill.