Chapter 7
Rated: R… Hard R for later chapters.
Disclaimer: Don't own a bloody thing.
This chapter is pretty short. Little incert of Arthur-Finn relationship. None the less important. Cliffhanger-y and a little cornball. But that's what makes us all feel so warm and fuzzy inside.
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"Wake up." Came a soft far off voice. "Finnabhair, wake little one." Her eyes fluttered open at the soft command and she was staring up into a pair of sea green eyes.
"Arthur." She gasped, sitting up. She had been lying diagonally across the bed, and he noticed that the ties that held the back of her dress together had been pulled free. She'd accidentally fallen asleep… perhaps waiting for something. Or someone.
He smiled, and she knew immediately that he knew she and Lancelot had…the very thought made her blush. He laughed as her face instantly colored.
"Do not feel ashamed Lady Finnabhair. Your secret is safe." She sighed in relief. She didn't even bother trying to act as though it were all fiction, a figment of Arthur's imagination. She knew he was smarter than that. And she respected him. She would never lie to Arthur.
"Where was he last night?" she asked, stretching her arms above her head. "He never returned to me." Arthur smiled apologetically.
"We had a lucrative meeting last night. My apologies that I had to steal him from your side for too long a time." She shook her head as she scooted toward the side of the bed, her legs dropping over the side.
"You need not offer me anything. You've already given me too much." She gave him a dazzling smile. "Moreover, I've waited fifteen years for the oaf. You think one night is unbearable?"
"That again was partially my fault." He said, bracing himself for a slap or scathing remark. When none came he moved to sit next to her, and she knew that what he was about to say was in no way related to Lancelot. She stared up into his handsome countenance. He was not handsome like Lancelot. He looked haunted, and rough.
"When are we leaving?" she asked, sliding on foot across the floor idly. There was a pregnant pause.
"My knights and I leave in little more than an hour." He said carefully. She jumped up.
"Well it is a good thing you came to rouse me or I might have missed the caravan." She bristled. "Oh that Lancelot will get an earful for not waking me." She pulled on one boot, hopping around on one foot as she tried to wrestle it onto her foot. As she began on the other, she heard a heavy sigh.
"No. You are not to come." She stopped dead, frozen in place, staring at him. His eyes were downcast at first but eventually came up to look at hers.
"Lancelot told you not to bring me." She said, her jaw set, as she let go of the second boot. He drew a long breath.
"He is right in worrying for your safety." He said meaningfully. "He cares desperately for you, and if anything should happen-"
"I traveled many miles through Woad country to get here. I survived the Saxon attack. And you think you can leave me behind and salvage my town and home?" He grimaced. It seemed an evil deed to deny her when she said this. "How would you suffer Arthur? Had it been your village that was to be saved and you were not to come along?"
He would feel… unbearable pain. He understood and rose. But his promise to Lancelot nagged in the back of his head like a bug that pestered a horse.
"Promise me Arthur. You will not let Finn come along. It's much too dangerous, and if I lost her…" he'd trailed off and Arthur stood dumbstruck as his greatest friend pleaded for the life of a lady he actually loved. "I just found her Arthur. I cannot lose her so soon."
Arthur had agreed. It was the least he owed to Lancelot. And the fact that Finnabhair had done what many had attempted to do, capturing Lancelot's heart…
She was special. He'd known it since the time he'd first met her. Simple yet beautiful, young but none the less wise. She was a puzzle, and Arthur found that he'd immediately taken to the young girl. There was nothing extraordinary about, at least not obviously. But her spirit burned brightly and it had drawn him in, as he supposed many had been before him.
But if it had been him in her place, he would've found means to go no matter what. And he had the strange feeling that nothing would stop Finn from riding back to her homeland. Not even Lancelot.
"You will come then." He said softly. "But hide yourself." He warned when he saw her look of confusion at having won so easily. "Stay covered while in the caravan, and I will try with all my might to see to it that you are not discovered by Lancelot." A large grin broke out over her face and suddenly she flung herself at him, hugging him.
"I know they say you are a king, but I only know you as my most respected friend." She said, throwing all caution to the wind. She'd never imagined a king to be so mindful of his people.
At first he felt awkward by her sudden action and brazen comment. But soon he felt a lopsided grin cross his own face and he patted her back lightly.
"Do not thank me so soon." He said, and she drew back. "If you are discovered I will say I had not been privied to your plans." Her head tilted slightly, so he continued to explain. "Lancelot is my oldest, most trusted friend. I will not risk our friendship, not even for your wishes Lady Finnabhair."
"I understand." She said with a small nod. She expected nothing less. She did not want to break Lancelot and Arthur apart, she only wished to see her home again, even when it was burned to cinders. He nodded his thanks and rose from the bed.
"Hurry to the wagon. The knights will be along in only a few minutes." He said before he headed for the doorway.
"Wait." He stopped and turned. "What about Lancelot? Won't he come to say goodbye?" Arthur blinked, before he hesitantly pulled a folded piece of parchment from his breastplate. He handed it to her. Her eyes went from the note, up to Arthur. He gave her one last smile and swept from the room.
She looked down at the paper, and pulled the string from it, unfolding it slowly to reveal Lancelot's messy scrawl. She read it carefully, her eyes skimming the weathered page.
-----
My dearest Finn,
I am leaving you here at the outpost. I could not bring myself to wake you when thoughts of you being injured flashed before my eyes. But you must know one thing, and I only wish I could tell you in person. I think that I have fallen in love with you.
That is one thing I have never told anyone. No woman who ever graced my bed. No woman whose eyes met mine. Not Guinevere.
When I return from our village, I pray you will meet me at the doors of the Wall. I pray that you will wait for me as vigilantly as you did last night, or for that matter, our entire lives. And when I return, I will show you how I should have treated you. Like a goddess. Because I think that you must have been dropped from the heavens. When I come home, the only thing I will truly see is you. Perhaps in that gown you wore yesterday. The one that doesn't quite cover you.
-----
She laughed at that.
-----
Know that this time I will return to you. I promise you that. And know that I love you. I love you my brave, beautiful, temperamental but oddly charming Finnabhair. I love you.
Lancelot
-----
She stared long and hard at the sickeningly sweet note he'd planned to leave her. And now she wondered…should she go to the caravan as she'd planned? She did not want to betray his trust. But then her village needed her…
She was torn yet again with one of the hardest decisions she'd ever have to make. So what would she do?
Rated: R… Hard R for later chapters.
Disclaimer: Don't own a bloody thing.
This chapter is pretty short. Little incert of Arthur-Finn relationship. None the less important. Cliffhanger-y and a little cornball. But that's what makes us all feel so warm and fuzzy inside.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Wake up." Came a soft far off voice. "Finnabhair, wake little one." Her eyes fluttered open at the soft command and she was staring up into a pair of sea green eyes.
"Arthur." She gasped, sitting up. She had been lying diagonally across the bed, and he noticed that the ties that held the back of her dress together had been pulled free. She'd accidentally fallen asleep… perhaps waiting for something. Or someone.
He smiled, and she knew immediately that he knew she and Lancelot had…the very thought made her blush. He laughed as her face instantly colored.
"Do not feel ashamed Lady Finnabhair. Your secret is safe." She sighed in relief. She didn't even bother trying to act as though it were all fiction, a figment of Arthur's imagination. She knew he was smarter than that. And she respected him. She would never lie to Arthur.
"Where was he last night?" she asked, stretching her arms above her head. "He never returned to me." Arthur smiled apologetically.
"We had a lucrative meeting last night. My apologies that I had to steal him from your side for too long a time." She shook her head as she scooted toward the side of the bed, her legs dropping over the side.
"You need not offer me anything. You've already given me too much." She gave him a dazzling smile. "Moreover, I've waited fifteen years for the oaf. You think one night is unbearable?"
"That again was partially my fault." He said, bracing himself for a slap or scathing remark. When none came he moved to sit next to her, and she knew that what he was about to say was in no way related to Lancelot. She stared up into his handsome countenance. He was not handsome like Lancelot. He looked haunted, and rough.
"When are we leaving?" she asked, sliding on foot across the floor idly. There was a pregnant pause.
"My knights and I leave in little more than an hour." He said carefully. She jumped up.
"Well it is a good thing you came to rouse me or I might have missed the caravan." She bristled. "Oh that Lancelot will get an earful for not waking me." She pulled on one boot, hopping around on one foot as she tried to wrestle it onto her foot. As she began on the other, she heard a heavy sigh.
"No. You are not to come." She stopped dead, frozen in place, staring at him. His eyes were downcast at first but eventually came up to look at hers.
"Lancelot told you not to bring me." She said, her jaw set, as she let go of the second boot. He drew a long breath.
"He is right in worrying for your safety." He said meaningfully. "He cares desperately for you, and if anything should happen-"
"I traveled many miles through Woad country to get here. I survived the Saxon attack. And you think you can leave me behind and salvage my town and home?" He grimaced. It seemed an evil deed to deny her when she said this. "How would you suffer Arthur? Had it been your village that was to be saved and you were not to come along?"
He would feel… unbearable pain. He understood and rose. But his promise to Lancelot nagged in the back of his head like a bug that pestered a horse.
"Promise me Arthur. You will not let Finn come along. It's much too dangerous, and if I lost her…" he'd trailed off and Arthur stood dumbstruck as his greatest friend pleaded for the life of a lady he actually loved. "I just found her Arthur. I cannot lose her so soon."
Arthur had agreed. It was the least he owed to Lancelot. And the fact that Finnabhair had done what many had attempted to do, capturing Lancelot's heart…
She was special. He'd known it since the time he'd first met her. Simple yet beautiful, young but none the less wise. She was a puzzle, and Arthur found that he'd immediately taken to the young girl. There was nothing extraordinary about, at least not obviously. But her spirit burned brightly and it had drawn him in, as he supposed many had been before him.
But if it had been him in her place, he would've found means to go no matter what. And he had the strange feeling that nothing would stop Finn from riding back to her homeland. Not even Lancelot.
"You will come then." He said softly. "But hide yourself." He warned when he saw her look of confusion at having won so easily. "Stay covered while in the caravan, and I will try with all my might to see to it that you are not discovered by Lancelot." A large grin broke out over her face and suddenly she flung herself at him, hugging him.
"I know they say you are a king, but I only know you as my most respected friend." She said, throwing all caution to the wind. She'd never imagined a king to be so mindful of his people.
At first he felt awkward by her sudden action and brazen comment. But soon he felt a lopsided grin cross his own face and he patted her back lightly.
"Do not thank me so soon." He said, and she drew back. "If you are discovered I will say I had not been privied to your plans." Her head tilted slightly, so he continued to explain. "Lancelot is my oldest, most trusted friend. I will not risk our friendship, not even for your wishes Lady Finnabhair."
"I understand." She said with a small nod. She expected nothing less. She did not want to break Lancelot and Arthur apart, she only wished to see her home again, even when it was burned to cinders. He nodded his thanks and rose from the bed.
"Hurry to the wagon. The knights will be along in only a few minutes." He said before he headed for the doorway.
"Wait." He stopped and turned. "What about Lancelot? Won't he come to say goodbye?" Arthur blinked, before he hesitantly pulled a folded piece of parchment from his breastplate. He handed it to her. Her eyes went from the note, up to Arthur. He gave her one last smile and swept from the room.
She looked down at the paper, and pulled the string from it, unfolding it slowly to reveal Lancelot's messy scrawl. She read it carefully, her eyes skimming the weathered page.
-----
My dearest Finn,
I am leaving you here at the outpost. I could not bring myself to wake you when thoughts of you being injured flashed before my eyes. But you must know one thing, and I only wish I could tell you in person. I think that I have fallen in love with you.
That is one thing I have never told anyone. No woman who ever graced my bed. No woman whose eyes met mine. Not Guinevere.
When I return from our village, I pray you will meet me at the doors of the Wall. I pray that you will wait for me as vigilantly as you did last night, or for that matter, our entire lives. And when I return, I will show you how I should have treated you. Like a goddess. Because I think that you must have been dropped from the heavens. When I come home, the only thing I will truly see is you. Perhaps in that gown you wore yesterday. The one that doesn't quite cover you.
-----
She laughed at that.
-----
Know that this time I will return to you. I promise you that. And know that I love you. I love you my brave, beautiful, temperamental but oddly charming Finnabhair. I love you.
Lancelot
-----
She stared long and hard at the sickeningly sweet note he'd planned to leave her. And now she wondered…should she go to the caravan as she'd planned? She did not want to betray his trust. But then her village needed her…
She was torn yet again with one of the hardest decisions she'd ever have to make. So what would she do?