Nothing was going according to how Arthur had thought it would. Ealdor didn't have nearly enough men available to fight and the men they did have were nowhere near the levels of trained soldiers. Every day that Arthur spent trying to train the men was more discouraging than anything else.
He really wasn't sure how they were going to win this battle.
To make matters worse, it seemed like Emrys had already sensed this. Since their arrival, Emrys had steadily become more and more distant from him, and it was driving Arthur crazy. All day, she busied herself with crafting weapons and collecting other supplies. If she did drop by their training area, it was with Morgana, and only to try to convince him to include the women in training.
"It's too dangerous," he told them each time, knowing full well that they would still try to argue against it. But he had no time to entertain their wild ideas. He needed to come up with a plan.
Emrys had been right about the people of Ealdor listening to him. There was still the exception of Will, but he seemed to stay out of the way for the most part. Arthur wanted to ask Emrys more about her time in Ealdor—why she thought that the people didn't trust her, about her relationship with Will—but she didn't seem interested in talking about anything other than allowing the women to fight.
He found his eyes wandering to her often, especially in the mornings and evenings, when they both returned to Hunith's hut. Never had he seen someone look so lost in their own home before. Emrys knew where everything was, but she always seemed to have a hard time finding a place to settle down in the house.
"Prince Arthur, you didn't finish your breakfast," said Hunith, suddenly, bringing him back to reality. She handed him a bowl full of sand-colored mush before exiting the hut to get started crafting more weapons.
Arthur forced himself to smile. He was grateful for Hunith's hospitality and for her knowledge in forging their essential weapons, but definitely not for the food. He knew it couldn't be helped—there was a food shortage, after all—but Arthur was pretty sure he'd have just preferred to go without any food than have to make do with the bland meals of Ealdor.
"Didn't I," he asked, realizing he'd been silent for too long. He glanced at Reuben, wondering if there was a way he could get Arthur out of this. But Reuben made no moves to assist the prince.
Morgana was even worse, showing off her empty bowl with a smug smile as she passed it to Emrys and said, "Go on, eat up." She playfully bumped her shoulder into his as she rushed out the door.
Arthur lifted the spoon out of the bowl, watching in disgust as the mush slid back down. Emrys passed in front of him, emptying her own bowl before bringing it to the side table to be cleaned later. Suddenly, Emrys turned to Arthur with crossed arms.
"If you're not going to eat it, give the bowl to me," she told him sharply. "But see to it that you at least make yourself useful somewhere since you've placed most of the other men on sentry duty. We could use wood—lots of it. Reuben can show you where we normally collect it."
He handed her the bowl but frowned at her tone. "I thought I was the one who gave orders."
"Maybe in Camelot you do, but I'm afraid life's more simple out here than what you're used to." She shoveled a few spoonfuls of the mush into her mouth before continuing. "You eat what you grow and everyone pitches in together. No one lords over each other or turns their nose up at something they don't like. Out here, we're all equals, all friends."
Arthur reached for her, but she turned away from him. "Emrys, I'm not trying to lord over anyone."
"Then prove that to them. Show the men that you believe in them, that you believe in the lifestyle they're trying to protect. Otherwise, they're going to think that Will was right about you." She finished the rest of the porridge and put it with the rest of the bowls.
"And you," he asked. "What do you think?"
Emrys turned to face him, then, for once not avoiding his eyes. "I think it was pretty stupid of you to come if you didn't think that we had any hope."
"That's not—I didn't come—" Arthur found that he was at a loss of what to say to her.
Fortunately for Arthur, Reuben decided that he would step in at this time: "We should hurry and get that wood now, sire, before the men return."
Arthur pressed his lips together and nodded, following Reuben away from the hut and into the wooded area at the edge of Ealdor. He happily volunteered to be the one to cut through the tree.
A few strikes in, Reuben asked him, "Are you alright, sire?"
"Perfectly fine, Reuben," said Arthur in between swings. "Never better, actually."
One of his swings missed, throwing Arthur only slightly off-balance. He raised a hand to Reuben to still any concern that he would've voiced. "I'm fine, I just—I don't understand your sister sometimes."
Reuben nodded knowingly. "If it's any consolation, sire, I don't understand my sister most of the time."
Arthur let out a light laugh. "Yeah. I suppose you're probably just as clueless as I am as to why she sent us out into the woods to fetch sticks like dogs."
"No," said Reuben immediately. "I know why she sent you out."
Arthur turned to look at Reuben over his shoulder. "Me? What do you mean she sent me out? Why was I her target?"
Reuben glanced up at the trees and was silent for a moment. Then, finally, he said, "You didn't eat your breakfast, sire."
Though Reuben wasn't looking at him, Arthur felt the need to look away from him anyway. "I wasn't hungry. Look, I'm sorry I didn't eat your mother's porridge. It's just that your village has a shortage of food and—"
Reuben exhaled through his teeth—a level of attitude that Arthur realized he normally didn't hear from Reuben. "Please don't insult us by pretending that it has anything to do with my village's food shortage, sire. And it was Emrys who made the porridge, actually."
"What?"
"Emrys made the porridge," he repeated, slower this time, as if to help the message sink in.
"Is that why she's upset," Arthur asked. "If she'd told me she'd made it, I would've—"
Reuben raised one of his eyebrows. "You would've eaten it?"
The way Reuben was looking at him made Arthur lose his confidence. "Well…"
"Because it shouldn't have mattered to you who made it," Reuben continued. "We all know why you're here, Arthur. We all came here for the same reason: Emrys."
"That's not—"
"You can deny it all you want, Arthur, but we all know." He took a few steps closer to Arthur and placed a tentative hand on the prince's shoulders. "I know you care about my sister. But sometimes it doesn't seem like you know, like you can't admit that you do."
Normally, Arthur would've pushed this topic away, choosing instead to focus on their task of getting wood. But, it was just as Emrys had said—out here, everyone could be equals, friends.
"It's not that I don't want to," he admitted. "I just…don't know how. It's like the things I want to say to her don't come out the way I want them to. And then she gets mad and she hates me again and…"
"And?"
Arthur shrugged. "And that's it. I don't feel close to her anymore."
Reuben blinked slowly, confusion spreading across his face. "So…you want to be close to my sister?"
"Yes," he said instantly. Then, quickly, "I mean, no! I mean, I like how I feel when I'm around her. I like the way she challenges me to be better than who I am, like she has this great vision of the man she thinks I can be. I like how she's only been here for a short time, but it feels like she's always been here, by my side, protecting me without any question. I…"
Arthur closed his mouth suddenly, feeling that if he kept it open, more feelings than he'd been ready to share would come out. He tightened his grip around the handle of the axe and felt Reuben squeeze his shoulder reassuringly.
Emboldened by Reuben's gentleness, Arthur decided to continue: "When she told me she was leaving Camelot, I-I panicked. I couldn't stand the thought of her being gone for so long and I would have no way of knowing if she was hurt or okay or—"
"Or coming back?" Reuben looked at Arthur as if he could've named those same concerns.
Arthur nodded and turned to look back toward Hunith's hut. "She actually seemed so…relieved to see me at the campsite. It was like she'd hoped I would come after her. And when I looked at her, I thought —for a moment—that I wasn't crazy for feeling how I feel, that maybe she was feeling the same way."
Reuben's hand dropped from Arthur's shoulder. "And," said Reuben slowly, tentatively, "what is it you're feeling?"
Arthur could feel his own heartbeat quickening. He'd avoided even thinking about this subject for the longest time—he wasn't sure he would have the words even if he tried. Still, he wanted to try: "It's…Sometimes I look at her and I feel…close to her? I'm not explaining this right. But there are times I feel a certain…It's not love…But yes, that's what it is."
For a while, he and Reuben listened to the sound of the wind in the trees. Then, Reuben asked quietly, "Why don't you tell her that?"
Arthur scoffed, more at himself than anyone else. "We come from two very different worlds, and I have no idea how to talk about what I feel. I'm not even sure what it is I'm feeling! And I want to do things for her so she'll know how I feel, but all I do is fail at that, too."
"You aren't failing, Arthur."
"Yes, I am. You saw it yourself—I couldn't even eat the porridge! And I should've eaten it because I thought it was made by someone she cares about and I—" He dropped the axe and sunk onto a nearby stump with a hard sigh.
"She just fits so seamlessly into my world and I just want to do the same for her," Arthur said quietly. "But what if I tell her and she thinks I'm only trying to tease her? What's the point of telling her how I feel if she's only going to hate me?
Reuben squatted down and peered into Arthur's face. "She won't hate you, Arthur. Emrys can be…confusing, to say the least, but there is one thing that has remained quite consistent about her. My sister has always appreciated honesty."
"And," Reuben added, smiling, "between you and me—when it comes to talks of love, of connection, of passion, Emrys can be as dense as she is brash."
This brought out a real, albeit quiet, laugh from Arthur. "I just wish I could tell Emrys she means the world to me and I couldn't bear to lose her. If I could tell her that, then maybe, just maybe—"
"Maybe?"
Arthur shrugged, feeling like he'd lost all the words he'd had before to describe his feelings. "Maybe not."
A twig snapped behind him and Arthur leapt to his feet. He turned around to see Will, who leaned up against a tree and crossed his arms. Embarrassment and anger made heat rise within Arthur. He should've been more cautious—Will had been slinking around him ever since he'd gotten to Ealdor.
He wondered how much Will had heard and how he was going to ask about it without tipping Will off. The last thing he needed was Will running to Emrys with his wild assumptions and making more of a mess of things.
"I take it my sister wasn't in a mood to entertain you today," Reuben asked smugly. He seemed to be just as annoyed with Will as Arthur had been these past few days.
Will shrugged, seemingly unbothered by Reuben's attempt to dig at him. Suddenly, his eyes flicked over to Arthur. "Word of advice: if you really want Emrys to stay by your side, you won't tell her the truth about how you feel." He held up a hand as the prince tried to interject. "Say what you want, but I'm actually trying to be nice. I told her I loved her and by the next morning, she'd already packed up and left."
Fear gripped Arthur's heart. He wanted to believe that Will was lying—it was clear he'd been keeping something from him ever since Arthur'd gotten to Ealdor. At the same time, he wondered if Will was telling the truth about trying to be helpful.
Would Emrys really leave him if she knew the truth about his feelings?
"You can choose to believe me or not," said Will, as if he could sense what Arthur was feeling. "It really doesn't matter if you do. But I think you know as well as I do that Emrys values one thing above all else: freedom. She won't go anywhere she thinks a choice has already been made for her. And if she's given the chance to choose to stay with you or go on some grand adventure on her own, she'll never choose you…and she'll never come back."
"That's not true," Arthur managed to get out. "She came back here."
Will gave the prince a sad smile. "Emrys came back because she heard the call. But she'll only stay until our people get their freedom back. Once that's over, she'll be gone again."
"You don't know that."
Will raised one of his eyebrows. "You want her to stay in Ealdor?"
How honest could he afford to be with Will? "I want her to be happy," he admitted. "I know she's miserable in Camelot sometimes. And you're right—I do want her at my side. But it just seems like Ealdor already has all the things she loves."
Will chuckled and pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. "Emrys is right—you really don't listen. I just told you that love isn't enough to make Emrys stay anywhere."
Arthur tried not to be bothered by the fact that Will had admitted to talking about him with Emrys. "What do you think would make her stay in Camelot?"
Will pushed away from the tree and started walking toward the village. "If I knew how to get Emrys to stay anywhere, do you really think I would tell you?"
Arthur could feel Reuben's eyes on him and he wondered what he thought about all of this talk about Emrys. Suddenly, Reuben said, "You already have the answer you're seeking, Arthur. Emrys has stayed by your side this long because she believes in the Camelot you're trying to build."
But Arthur wasn't sure himself what type of Camelot he was trying to build. He did have another question on his mind, though: "Why did you leave this place, Reuben?"
Reuben frowned and pressed his lips together. "I suppose I don't really know why," he said quietly. "Life wasn't really too bad for me here—I did what I was expected of and tried my best to keep my sister in line."
A soft smile spread Arthur's lips. It didn't sound any different from what Reuben's life was like in Camelot. He'd been about to tell Reuben this, when his manservant said, "I think Emrys got it right this morning—everything is much more simple out here than in Camelot. And I guess I just wanted some more excitement in my life."
"Is that what you call everything that happens in Camelot," Arthur asked, smiling. "Excitement?"
Reuben smiled back at him and shrugged as he picked up the neglected axe. "Good or bad, at least I can never say I'm bored in Camelot."
"Do you ever look back?"
"You don't look back at places that never held anything for you," said Reuben as he took a swing at the trunk of a tree.
From then on, the two carried out the rest of their chore in silence and Arthur wondered if Emrys ever looked back at places like Ealdor or Camelot. An hour later, when they'd chopped enough wood, Arthur gathered their supply in his arms on their way out of the woods. Most of the villagers seemed to be going about their business as usual, including Emrys, whom he could see working on weapons in the distance.
Despite being surrounded by several perfectly sharpened swords, she looked frustrated with her work. The culmination of her aggravation came out in a loud swear that Arthur knew Gwaine would've killed to have been there to witness. Perhaps he'd tell him about it when they returned.
Reuben laughed softly and shook his head in mild disappointment. "I can't believe that is what so many guys have been smitten over."
"I'm not smitten," cried Arthur. He could feel Reuben's eyes on the side of his face. "Oh, shut up, Reuben."
The cheeky blighter had the audacity to smile at him as he said, "I didn't say anything, sire."
Arthur shuffled the wood in his arms. "Is it…weird for you?"
"Being back," Reuben asked. "Not in the slightest. It's like I never left, really. Although, I suppose that's the problem, isn't it?"
"No, no," said Arthur, "I meant the idea of a prince courting your sister?"
"So you are courting her, then?"
"Th-that's not what I said," Arthur insisted, his face heating up with indignation. "I said the 'idea' of it."
Reuben smiled again and, for once, Arthur could very clearly see that he and Emrys were related. "I'll admit it's a bit strange, but if you were to court my sister, I suppose that'd be alright. You're my favorite of her potential suitors."
"So," said Arthur, smiling wide, "I have your blessing, then?"
Reuben gave Arthur a teasing look, raising an eyebrow at him. "I didn't say that."
Arthur started to open his mouth to say something, but cut himself off when an ear-piercing shriek tore through the village. He dropped the wood he was carrying and hurried to the source of the sound.
He saw the body from a distance, the arrow protruding from it prominently displaying a red flag. Arthur couldn't tell who it was just yet—the man had been draped around and tied to the horse carrying him back—but he knew it was one of the village men. As the horse came to a stop, most of the villagers began to gather around the body.
"Get him down from there," Arthur yelled, though he didn't have anyone in particular he was talking to. It didn't matter, though. Several of the other men had already begun to lower the man's body.
"Oh, gods," Emrys whispered as she came up beside him. "It's Matthew."
A part of Arthur wanted to turn her away from the sight—it was horrible enough for him and he barely knew the man. He could only imagine what it was like for her. But if it bothered her, it didn't show, not even when the men gently flipped him over to detach the note that had been pinned to him with the arrow.
"What does it say," Reuben asked as Arthur finished reading the note.
"It says," said Arthur slowly, "make the most of this day. It will be your last."
"You did this," Will growled as he pushed his way through the crowd. "Look what you've done. You've killed him."
Emrys stepped forward, drawing both Will and Arthur's eyes. "It wasn't his fault."
Will pointed a finger in Arthur's direction. "If he hadn't been strutting around treating this like his own personal army, it'd never have happened."
"These men," said Arthur as he waved a hand toward the villagers, "are brave enough to fight for what they believe in, even if you aren't."
Will laughed drily. "You're sending them to their graves. You've killed one man. How many more need to die before you realize this is a battle that can't be won?"
"Matthew, no," cried another villager suddenly. The crowd parted to let her run through. She collapsed beside Matthew with a vicious sob, her hands pulling at his body so he could face her. The woman pressed the side of her face against his chest as she rocked back and forth. "Oh, gods, please, no."
"When Kanen comes, they haven't got a chance. They're going to be slaughtered because of you," Will said darkly. This time, Arthur realized he was looking directly at Emrys, who seemed to bristle at his statement.
Suddenly, the village woman gasped. "Heartbeat! I can hear a heartbeat," she cried, frantically looking around. "He's still alive!"
Emrys and Reuben exchanged glances before springing into action, Reuben ordering a few men to carry Matthew back and Emrys running ahead of them to Hunith's hut. Arthur wasn't sure how much Emrys could do for him, but if he knew anything about her, it was that she wasn't just going to accept that.
Arthur didn't even realize he'd been heading in the direction of Hunith's hut until Morgana faced him at the door. He could see Matthew on the table, where Reuben and Hunith were diligently trying to get the arrow out of his back. On the far side of the room was Emrys, who seemed to be muttering something as she wet more rags.
When he tried to move past Morgana, she blocked him, saying, "They're taking care of it. Let's you and I go for a walk."
He started to protest—especially after he saw Will slip inside—but Morgana didn't allow him time, looping her arm through his and leading him away from the hut. As they continued past the main part of the village, he finally asked, "Where are we going, Morgana?"
"I think it's time we discuss Emrys again." When he didn't immediately respond, she turned to look at him. "Come on, Arthur—you still can't bring yourself to be honest with me? I'm your sister, not our father."
"There's nothing to talk about," he insisted.
"Really?" She arched an eyebrow at him and dropped his arm. "You've been moping about all day and I know it's got something to do with Emrys. It always does."
"I'd say you're one to talk."
Morgana frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Did he dare to actually say it? "I see the way you look at her," Arthur said quietly.
"I don't know what you're talking—"
"Don't act like I'm stupid," he yelled, his frustration boiling over. "I know what I'm seeing! And I know what it means because it's—it's probably the same way I look at her, too."
Morgana's mouth opened and closed several times, tears brimming in her eyes. She looked away from him, turning her head towards the village again. "Was I that obvious," she whispered. Then, in a stronger voice, she asked, "How long have you known?"
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe it was during the Dyad Festival? I just know that one day, it was just so obvious."
She whipped her head around to face to him again. "Wait a minute. The Dyad Festival? You've suspected it that long but never once mentioned it to me?"
Arthur could feel his face burning with heat. She was angry with him for not asking? "I-I didn't know how! I assumed, if it was true, that you would just tell me whenever you were ready. I didn't tell anyone about it."
Morgana let out an airy laugh. "I wish that were more comforting. But if you've figured it out, I'm sure most of the castle knows by now." She sucked in her breath and looked away from him. "Does father know?"
"No. He suspects that Emrys is only a distraction for me. He thinks I keep trying to remove her because of some boyhood crush I've got on her. I'm pretty sure he barely takes me seriously when it comes to her because he always assumes I've had some sort of fight with her."
"Well," said Morgana, smiling slightly, "isn't that usually the case?" She looked up at the sky, watching the clouds roll back as the early signs of evening began to take over. "You don't hate me for it?"
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. "I could never hate you, Morgana. Like you said, you're my sister."
Morgana trembled for a moment before finally returning the hug. Sobbing, she said, "I've been so scared. I've wanted to tell you for a while now, but I didn't know how you would react. I'm sorry for not having more faith in you."
He smiled against the top of her head. "I'm not sure I would've done anything differently in your shoes. But I want you to know that you can always trust me, Morgana."
"You're a better man than our father, Arthur," she said, pulling back to look him dead in the eyes. "Always were."
"I don't feel like a better man," he admitted. "I don't even know if I feel like a good man."
"What do you mean?"
Arthur waved his hand toward the houses. "These people…I came here to help them, not lead them deeper into despair. I feel like they're looking to me for hope and I don't have any to give them."
"That's where you're wrong, Arthur. These people aren't looking to you for hope. They already have that." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "They're looking to you because you represent that brighter future they were already hoping for."
Arthur shook his head as he said, "But how? I'm not a king."
"No, but you will be one day. Right now, they're seeing you for who you are—a prince with a heart that is willing to help a small village in a neighboring kingdom."
"But how do you know that," he asked.
Morgana's eyebrows came together with a crease. "Because that's how she sees you. She's been full of stories these past few days, all of them about you." She flashed him a pinched smile. "It's been quite annoying, actually."
Arthur couldn't help the smile that came to his face, nor the weight that he felt lifting off of his chest. He felt ready to take on Kanen and his men by himself. Looking at Morgana, his happiness faltered, but only slightly. "I feel like it's my turn to ask if you hate me."
"Why would you think that?"
Arthur dropped to the ground in a low squat. "I've known how you feel about Emrys, but it hasn't stopped me."
"Stopped you from what," she asked as she sat beside him.
Arthur swallowed. "From wanting her for myself."
Morgana laughed loudly—a sign she'd definitely been spending too much time with Emrys recently. "Oh, Arthur, I know that would never stop you. Neither of us has ever been particularly selfless when it came to wanting the same thing."
"That's true," Arthur conceded, smiling softly. "I suppose that also goes for sharing with each other."
"A shared queen," Morgana mused. She glanced at the face he made. "Relax, I'm only joking…mostly. Or is that face because you're still not sure if you want her to be your queen?"
If he was being honest, it was both. To think of Emrys as queen of Camelot was…laughable, if he was being honest. He had a hard time reconciling the idea of Emrys staying by his side for the rest of his life and her being queen.
"Better hurry and figure that out, Arthur—I've already made up my mind." She pursed her lips, saying quietly, "Father would have to be dead, if I wanted any chance of that actually happening, though."
Arthur sobered almost immediately, his mouth becoming a thin line. "He'll probably have to be dead anyway. Couldn't imagine what he'd say about a serving girl becoming queen, regardless which one of us asked him."
"I think I can imagine what he'd say quite well, actually," said Morgana, giving a half-smile.
Arthur let out a long, exasperated sigh. "The longer we talk about this, the more I wish life was as simple for us in Camelot as it is out here."
"Who says it can't be?"
"Fate," Arthur asked, pulling up a few blades of grass before unceremoniously dropping them back onto the ground. "Destiny? Take your pick—I'm sure it doesn't matter. Some things have already been decided for us long ago."
He felt Morgana's eyes on the side of his face. "Is that what you think about tomorrow's outcome as well? Because, if it is, we have a different problem entirely on our hands."
"What would you suggest I do, then, if I'm to lead these people?"
"Believe, Arthur."
He blinked at her in mild frustration. "Believe?"
"Yes. It doesn't matter if your belief is in a future for Ealdor, Emrys, or Camelot. Dare to dream and just go for it, Arthur."
Arthur loosed a breath, staring down at the grass. "Damn the consequences?"
Morgana gave her brother a wide smile. "Damn the consequences."
"But isn't it impossible?"
"It almost certainly is," she said, nodding. "But I've never known you not to be up for a challenge before. Has falling in love somehow made you lose your nerve, Arthur?"
Arthur's mouth twitched up into a smile as he rose back to his feet. "I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Morgana, but I won't be giving up—not on Ealdor and not on Emrys. I don't intend to lose to you."
There was something wicked about his sister's smile. "And I don't intend to lose."
A/N: We are back! And surprise, surprise, Arthur is still a bit of an idiot when it comes to feelings lol. I'm super excited to get back into this again. Seriously, I have so much in store for all of these characters, especially as we start to transition into "Book Two", but I'm going to work hard to bang out the last few chapters of this book first! As always, let me know what you think! :-)
