One winter day

Part 1.

One of the most extraordinary scenes in the history of Camelot

Snow wasn't unusual in Camelot, but it rarely fell enough to last for more than a week. Winters were mostly marked by freezing rain and a cold, penetrating wind, which took every opportunity to invade some cosy space and stick its icy fingers into someone's neck, or wail damningly, tugging at candle flames, filling many a heart with anxiety. The short days, shrouded in a veil of grey skies and the smoke steadily rising from the chimneys, barely slipped into the houses, not clearly marking their frail existence. That day, however, was snowy, wonderfully bright, bathed in the gentle light of the sun shining through a layer of white clouds. Life outside had virtually died down, as if flushed from the world along with the ever-present grey. Only occasionally did someone sneak across the courtyard, bouncing about in the cold. Many people simply didn't have shoes suitable for walking in the snow. Admittedly, we had raised the salaries of the castle servants as much as we could under the current conditions, but the families were numerous, the needs great. Whatever we did, poverty couldn't just be eliminate, eradicated once and for all, like some magical beast.

I myself prevented perhaps a dozen servants in shabby clothes from leaving, until finally I summoned the steward and ordered him to organise the work of the servants in such a way that no one without warm clothes would leave the castle unnecessarily. The steward, a gloomy man by nature and rather unpleasant to deal with, was in a particularly bad mood and made it clear to me with his whole attitude what he thought of such ideas.

I knew, however, that he would obey the order conscientiously. Yes, I irritated him - a quiet irritation bubbled up in him, like some sort of Gaius potion, whenever I wanted something from him - but at the same time He took satisfaction from remaining in our service, while - for causes that were not entirely clear, he thought that Arthur was looking for an official reason to dismiss him. As a result, he was one of the few of Uther's men who adapted very quickly to the changes taking place under Arthur's reign and zealously enforced their implementation, not at all hiding the fact that he sincerely hoped it would turn against us.

The children of several knights, wearing thick jackets and decent shoes, ran wild in the courtyard throughout the morning, but they too eventually disappeared, presumably bored with playing, or called back by caring parents. On rare occasions I too, as a child, played in the snow. During one such plays, Morgana called me friend for the first time. She threw herself around my neck and told me that she loved no one like that. From then on, seeing the snow, I couldn't help but think of her, even now, even after all this time.

„The plague is better than this weather", was repeated in unison from the castle kitchen to the smallest, most squalid shop in the lower town, which is why neither as a little girl nor as a grown woman did I dare openly admit that it gives me pleasure to look at something that causes others distress.

When I entered the royal chambers that day and saw Arthur sitting by the window, with that thoughtful, wise, deeply kind, slightly concerned expression in his eyes, so different from his father's, I regretted that I had no hand for painting. With his hands entwined in his lap and his head slightly bowed, he looked magnificent against the backdrop of a window-framed landscape sunk in sparkling white. No crown, no armour, just in a white shirt and breeches, and yet, it would have been hard not to recognise the king in him. He exuded a gentle, magnetic strength that had noting to do with physical attractiveness - perhaps it only enhanced it. The impression that he was fashioned from slightly different clay than the rest of the people had never been so irresistible. A shiver ran down my spine. I had learned the terrible story of his birth, I had learned what a cruel deception the witch had perpetrated, and sometimes the terrifying thought came over me that this was a trace of those events, a glimpse of a life, deceitfully taken from Egraine. I chased it away now, like an intrusive fly, so that it would not poison the moment with its wickedness. It returned, however, with the persistence of a fly, buzzing restlessly: "He should not exist, Guinevere. He was never meant to be born. And he will disappear. There will come a day when he will finally disappear, so enjoy him while you can."

I didn't move, burning the image of Arthur in my heart with all the details, but the overwhelming desire to place a few kisses on his golden head finally pushed me forward. I stood behind him and put my arms around him. He leaned slightly towards me. I put my hand on his chest, brushed the top of his head with my lips and slowly moved lower. He covered my hand with his, pressed tighter. Through the soft material of his shirt, I could feel the steady beat of his heart. "There will come a day when he will finally disappear, so enjoy him while you can. He'll be gone. He'll be finally gone. He was never meant to be born".

„Aren't you a little too comfortable, my lord"? I asked, pulling away from him, after a final kiss on his neck.

„You're sitting here, doing nothing…."

He muttered disapprovingly. He didn't let go of my hand. He caressed it with a gentleness that used to often surprise me a bit.

„I'm thinking", he said quietly. From afar came the sound of a bell. It was noon.

„About what"?

„There are growing rumours that Morgana is raising her head".

I gently eased my hand away, squatted down in the other chair and sat down next to him. Could it be that the snow was also turning his thoughts towards Morgana?

„Maybe it's just rumours"" I said. „People will continue to attribute all evil to her for a long time".

„No. I'm sure something is brewing".

He looked at me sadly.

„Gwen... She's a powerful witch. She wields power we will never have. She hates me and won't let go. I know her too well, and so do you. And our people will not survive another war. They are devastated, they have suffered enough. They are still rebuilding their homes, just beginning to live normally. I can't let my cursed sister hurt them again. I have no idea how, but I will do everything I can to make sure she doesn't touch them with even the tip of her finger. This has to get past them, do you understand"?

„This time it will just have to finish"", I replied. „Only her death can bring peace. Otherwise we will go through this every few years".

„I know, and I will find a way to do it, I promise. For Camelot".

He turned to the window, as if to assure the world behind him that it would be so. I smiled. Concealed scrupulously under various masks, the fierce protectiveness he displayed towards those closest to him was also of a wider variety, encompassing the entire kingdom.

„What!? No"! he called out suddenly, completely out of royalty, causing me to almost jump up. „What an idiot! Look what he's doing"!

I looked out, genuinely intrigued. Outside, there wasn't a living soul, except for one figure stretched out in the snow.

„Did he fall over"? I asked. Arthur snorted.

„Yeah. But he likes it too much".

I laughed. Merlin spread his arms. He picked himself up, walked a few steps and fell into the snow again.

„Clotpole", chuckled Artur, then stood up briskly. „I'm going to get him", he declared.

„Why? Leave him alone for once", I protested. This view completely disarmed me. It was just all Merlin, and I hadn't seen him in that mood very often lately.

„You know very well why he does it. Hethinks he is sly and will manage to shirk his duties for longer if he gets even sicker", Arthur said in that seemingly irritated tone of his, in which a trained ear could pick up a note of concern. I sighed. Merlin had been coughing quite badly for a couple of days, but he insisted it wasn't serious. Not enough serious, to reach for some potion and stay in bed. He argued fiercely with anyone who dared to even suggest such a concept, and Arthur teased him that he knew exactly where this was going. Merlin, clearly already annoyed, replied to him that morning that if he really had had enough of him, he wouldn't have resorted to such risqué measures, but would simply look for another job, something he was just beginning to consider. Arthur countered that he could consider to his heart's content, for no one would hire such an incompetent, lazy servant, to which Merlin merely shrugged his shoulders.

„And besides", continued Arthur, donning a thick, dark cloak and throwing his hood over his head, „he is behaving in a manner completely inappropriate for a royal servant. By not intervening, I am exposing myself to ridicule. I bet half the court is staring out the windows right now, and the rest are about to start".

„Do you think everyone is paying attention to your servant? Most probably don't even have a clue what he looks like, even though you have him with you practically all the time", I replied before I had time to fully think it through. Apparently, however, my words didn't sound as bitter as I feared, because Arthur laughed.

„They would have to be completely blind", he stated categorically. „No Gwen, I doubt anyone would think it was just some random foolish rolling around in the snow".

He sent me an openly amused look and left.

„There's something in that, my dear", I muttered. „It's still full of blind men, not uncommonly unable to see the man in the man".

I rested my chin on my hand and gazed out the window. Merlin, lying on his back, was scooping up snow with his hands and throwing it up into the air, almost disappearing in clouds of swirling fluff. Unexpectedly it flashed through my mind that there was some vehemence, even desperation, that I had mistaken a good mood for something grim. More than once, when something bad was happening, I had seen knights - including Arthur - chopping furiously at training dummies. Perhaps Merlin had his own ways of warding off demons.

I watched as the hooded Arthur approached, grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to pull him off the ground, to my greatest surprise, not very successfully. It seemed that Merlin was stronger than before. Eventually, however, Arthur trapped him in an iron grip and set him down. I thought it was over, but Merlin fought back as if his life depended on it. A tug-of-war ensued. After a while Merlin somehow clipped Arthur's legs and they both landed in a snowdrift. I wished I could have heard them. Tears came to my eyes from laughing. Merlin broke free, narrowly avoided Arthur's hand trying to grab his jacket and rushed towards the training ground. Arthur moved after him. They disappeared from my sight for a while, and when they reappeared they were not alone. Three other figures, like Arthur, wrapped in thick coats, had evidently joined my husband. Merlin was running as fast as he could. I didn't suppose he could run so fast.

Someone knocked on the door. I begrudgingly pulled away from the window and tried to control myself.

- Come in! - I called out, once I had gained confidence that my voice sounded serious enough. Happily, it was Lady Eleanor, Sir Leon's sister, who had been our guest for several days. I had known her for a very long time, as had Leon, though since she had married and settled permanently in Queensbridge, I had not seen her very often. Her husband, Sir Edward died during the dragon attack on Camelot, leaving her with a son and two daughters. After his death, Eleanor returned to her native Arthen and devoted herself wholeheartedly to caring for the poor and sick. As queen, I supported her in this, using every means at my disposal, and our contact naturally grew closer, gradually developing from a purely formal one into a cordial friendship.

„Am I right to suspect that it is his highness who is bullying that poor Merlin in the courtyard"? Eleanor asked with a broad smile. She was above average in height, of fairly robust build, with thick, light curls falling to her shoulders and a distinctive star-shaped birthmark on her right cheek.

„You've got some outdated information, Nelly", I replied, looking out of the window again. „There's a whole... erm… the flower of Camelot. I think, Only without Sir Percival".

Eleanor was at the window when Merlin stumbled and knocked over several barrels stacked on top of each other. He jumped over them clumsily and collapsed like a long one, and three figures rushed at him. The fourth simply stood by, bent in half from laughter. I suspected it was Gwaine.

„Are they mad"!? - screamed Eleanor. „After all, they're going to hurt him! They are huge men"!

She no longer even tried to hide that she had a special weakness for Merlin. She was completely infatuated with him, which I wasn't surprised by, but for some reason, deep down it bothered me. Every last nerve in my body tensed violently as I caught her gaze, more than longing, even possessive. Merlin seemed not to notice this, which strangely reassured me. I chastised myself for this. I kept repeating to myself that, after all, everyone was entitled to their feelings, and Nelly and Merlin's happiness would be my joy too, except that... it wouldn't be. Merlin would undoubtedly leave us, and I dreaded to even think of such an eventuality.

„No worries. Despite appearances, they know the boundaries perfectly well", I replied. Outside, the person I suspected of being Gwaine crouched down, gathered a fair amount of snow in his hands and bombarded the others with a hail of bullets.

„Oh God, like children", groaned Eleanor. „Wait a minute! Leon's there"?

She turned to me. There were sparks dancing in her eyes.

„I don't think he isn't there. You know very well that he would go into the fire for his king".

„What have they done with my little brother? After all, he was a serious man".

We both burst out laughing; uninhibited, joyful laughter. Morgana and I used to laugh like that at other times. It used to be that such merriment didn't provoke the fear that misfortune would immediately follow, that a moment's inattention would be enough for some gloomy shadow to stand behind us.

Eleanor finally sat down. I put my arm around her. It's possible that our thoughts ran in a similar direction, because for a long moment neither of us spoke. We sat, in pleasant, casual proximity, gazing out of the window, beyond which probably one of the most extraordinary scenes in the history of Camelot was unfolding.


I plan to write one more part. Please, let me know if you read. Every review is a treasure.