Remember, young one. Arthur does not yet know who he is. All he has ever known is looking after himself. Do not fault him that. Regardless of what is told to you, remember. Arthur is and always will be, a Pendragon. It is in his blood to protect. For now, it may only be those closest to him, but trust me when I say this. If you have faith in him, he will not let you down.
The mage was beginning to grow agitated. After meeting the other rebels in the study, Lord Bedivere had took over the job of story teller as the mage once again isolated herself to a dark corner in the room.
As he informed the others of The Born King's current situation, the mage had done what she did best. People watch. Being friend-less in the Dark Lands had made her a master at body language. It helped keep her safe when jealous peers tried to manipulate her into dangerous situations. Now though, it was helping her get a read on the rebels. The man that Bedivere referred to as "Bill" was sitting beside Rubio and had his arm bandaged for some reason. Average height and slender in size, the man might have been overlooked completely were not for his "snarky" personality.
Disbelief shined in his eyes as Bedivere had round to a stop. Bill flickered his gaze between the mage and Bedivere conflicted on who to direct his gaze to, before finally resting them on the rebel leader.
"You expect us to believe this? Truly?" he said drily. "A stranger walks up to our front door with a wild tale and a plan surely to get us all killed and...you believe her? Are you feeling all right over there Bedivere?"
As he turned his stare to the mage, he began to open his mouth to question her sanity as well, until he noticed the black look cross her face before it was carefully schooled into a blank mask.
Lord Bedivere, noticing the growing discontent in the room, had asked the young mage to step outside. Tensing up she made her way out of the room to settle in the hallway.
Patience was never a quality she had an abundance of, and she had already wasted so much time already. Fear was beginning to creep into her mind the longer the meeting went on. To pass the time, and to calm the doubts beginning to encroach upon the hope that had blossomed in her chest after Bedivere had first offered his aid, she had begun pacing. Her sturdy boots, hidden by her blue cloak, were steadily wearing a hole in the ground as she grew frustrated. Just when she had begun to entertain the idea that the rebels might not help her, might not help Arthur, the door to the study opened. Conversation dropped to mere murmurs as the departing rebels took notice of the frazzled mage. More than a few eyed her with suspicion.
Lord Bedivere was the last to exit the room as he and Bill shook hands on the way out. Peering at him, the mage realized that he seemed to be preparing himself for something. He seemed to be - prolonging his farewells. As the rebels exited the room, he took care to watch them leave instead of turning to face her. When he finally did gradually turn to lock eyes with her, she knew that she was right. His eyes were barely holding contact with hers and he seemed to be unable to stand still or start a sentence as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
Bracing herself for the worst, she twined her fingers together in the long sleeves of her cloak. Lifting her chin and staring defiantly at Bedivere, the mage waited for him to say his piece. Regardless of the outcome, she would not allow Arthur to die. Even if she had to rescue him herself. As long as he was alive, there was still hope.
Lord Bedivere, finally finding his tongue, took a step forward and gestured to the end of the hall. "Let us take a walk mage." Wary and near her limit, she agreed with a stiff tilt of her head.
"Taking a walk" seemed to be code for "let's walk around aimlessly while I ask you a thousand random questions." He had already asked her how she managed to enter his dreams, inquired about the location of Merlin, and borderline demanded her whole life story. Ignoring him for the time being, the mage allowed him to entertain himself with his probing while she studied her surroundings, memorizing her way around. Growing bored of stone and passing strangers, she turned her attention to Bedivere himself.
After many years of being ostracized and picked on, the mage had begun depending on her instincts to know when she was being deceived. While she did not want to believe that she was wrong about him, she could not ignore the fact that there was something Bedivere was not telling her.
Lord Bedivere in his endless talking, had not realized that they had just passed the armory. Twice. The mage on the other hand, did. "I have had enough of this farce Lord Bedivere. What is it that you are struggling so to tell me?" she asked.
Lord Bedivere, startled out of his sentence, turned wide eyes on the mage. Met with brown eyes turned cold, his only response was to turn his head to see where their feet had lead them.
"Ah. My apologies, mage. My feet seem to have a mind of their own today."
"I do not have the time for games Bedivere, as you well know," she ground out. "Will you help me save Arthur or not?"
Wincing at the sharp tone the mage wielded, Bedivere raised his hands to calm her. "There are those who are not as...believing as I am of your tale mage. Unfortunately, without proof they see no reason to go on a "suicide mission" as they call it."
Bedivere went on to say that after she left the room and the supposed condition of the Born King had registered to the rebels, chaos reigned for more than a few moments. Although excitement fueled the air, there was more than enough doubt to cool it. The rebel mages were somewhat divided on whether or not to believe the tale of a stranger. There were those who believed wholeheartedly that the Born King had returned. Those that believed the story to be a farce, and those who were so desperate for a change, that they grasped onto the story as a child would grasp onto a fairytale. Only a small number of the rebels were eager to rush towards a rescue though. The doubters, although willing to entertain the idea because of Lord Bedivere, were admant that they wait. They would not bum rush the King on the word of a stranger, mage or not.
Unable to come to a consensus, Lord Bedivere had decided to step in and offer a compromise. He would send two scouts to the city to make contact with their agent on the inside. If the story was true the rebel soldiers would offer their full support with the rescue mission. One would return first to verify the mages' story, and the other would return after gathering information on the person The Born King had become. If the story was not true, they would..cross that bridge later.
The mage was...upset at the news. Spinning on her heel she stalked away from Lord Bedivere, ignoring his calls from behind her. Needing to calm down, she made her way to the entrance of the cave and entered the forest around it. Nature was always a solace to her, a place to cool her fiery temper. At the moment though, she was currently pacing through the dense trees, close to her boiling point. She came to Lord Bedivere under the belief that he would help her. That he would help Arthur! Now it seems, Arthur's head would roll while they await news of..what?!
She didn't even know! It seemed as if they knew of the Black Leggers rounding people up, so how much of a stretch would it be to assume that they would eventually get lucky?
"It is not that I distrust you, mage," Bedivere said, emerging slowly from the foliage. "You have a good plan, but without the trust of the men who will accompany you, it will ultimately fail." Bedivere said, emerging slowly from the foliage. "All they need is a few days, a week at most. Surely, your charge can last that long. If you are correct, it will take the crowd Vortigern that needs to feed his ego, at least that long to gather at the castle. There is time to set minds at ease."
"The time that your people are asking me to give, may well be, all the time it takes Vortigern to execute Arthur," the mage exclaimed. "Do you not understand? He has already held Excalibur! Vortigern has already seen Arthur hold the one thing that he covets the most. He will not last the week!" Bedivere took a step back as the mages anger ruffled the trees in the wind. "I will not sit around and let him get killed. This is too important, he is too important, for me to risk waiting for approval."
The mage closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. It would not do for her to lose her temper. Not when Arthur's life hung in the balance. "I will not wait a week, Lord Bedivere," she stated, opening her eyes with resolve shining bright. "Three days. You said your men could be back in a few days. I'll give you three. I can wait that long, for your men to return. No longer."
Lord Bedivere released a sigh of relief as a compromise was offered. "Very well mage. Let us-"
A bitter wind went through the trees suddenly, stopping Bedivere in his tracks. He glanced around him and finally focused on the mage quickly approaching him with a terrifying look upon her face. "But I hope for all of our sakes that we are not too late. I did not come this far just to fail. If I lose Arthur, because of you or your men...There are no words to describe the wrath I shall rain down on you."
The mage turned her back to Lord Bedivere and began disappearing deeper into the forest. "Talk to your men, Bedivere. I suggest you send the swiftest of them all," she said raising her hood over her head. "Get whatever proof your men need. My charge is in the lions den, and I do not intend to let him stay there for long."
Lord Bedivere, struck silent by the weight of her words could only stare at the fading blue hue of her cloak disappearing into dense green foliage. This woman, this mage, was not to be underestimated. Bedivere knew that the mage would stop at nothing to reach the castle. Why, he couldn't understand. The determination and her unwavering desire to save someone she's never met, was something he had never encountered before. He could tell that regardless of what the scouts reported back, the mage would go gallivanting off to the castle, and most likely, her death.
Unfortunately, Bedivere had a sense of honor. Well that and her threat was still fresh in his mind. Although the mage seemed capable of taking care of herself, if in three days the scouts had not returned, he would send a few soldiers with the mage. The last thing that anyone needed was to have another mage as an enemy.