War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.
The Two Towers - J.R.R. Tolkein
The audience chamber of Camelot was dank and terribly drafty, despite being occupied by dozens of knights, courtiers, and common folk all eagerly anticipating the Queen's arrival.
Nella was among them, a bundle of nerves as she watched the doors where Guinevere would enter to give court. It was her first time in Camelot; her father had finally allowed her to accompany him now she was thirteen, and she had been mesmorised by the grandness of the Citadel, with its imposing walls and towers, the enormous throne room and legendary round table, the crispness of the white stone hallways and sculptures, even the hustle and bustle of the market in the lower town.
But the audience chamber was cramped in comparison, with fewer windows to let in the light, although Nella could see that the Queen had tried to brighten the place with lit braziers, and garlands of fresh red roses that hung around her throne, awaiting her her arrival.
Nella hoped she'd recovered from her illness that had kept her from the Samhain feast - she'd heard one of the dower ladies of the court say the Queen was heartsick and hadn't left her bed for two days. It had caused Nella concern - she'd watched an aunt waste away from grief when she'd lost a child in the cradle, but when she'd asked her father if the Queen was faring better he'd scoffed and said not to concern herself with such things.
Her father didn't care much for Guinevere - he looked down on her common birth and often said he could never understand why Arthur had cast his eyes so low. But Nella had found the story of the young prince and the handmaiden so romantic - kept apart for years because Uther would never allow the match, their love steadfast and true, and Arthur honouring his word to make her his queen. Of course, there was that confusion with her leaving Camelot - some said she was driven away by the King's evil uncle, others that she was kidnapped by sorcerers, there were even rumours she had been bewitched to betray the king with one of his knights! No one seemed to know for certain, and in any event they were married as soon as Camelot was liberated from the witch Morgana so it didn't seem to matter.
"Make way!" The man guarding the entrance called out and banged his spear against the stone floor. "The Queen approaches!"
The congregation moved to the sides of the room to clear a path down the middle as the guards opened the large wood doors. Nella scuttled to the side, smoothing down the damask of her green gown and hoping it was fine enough.
She held her breath as Queen Guinevere walked into the room. She really was as beautiful as people said, with her kind face, rich brown skin, and long, dark hair braided at her crown and falling freely down her back. It was easy to see why the King had fallen in love with her, for she smiled warmly at those gathered and the room no longer seemed so drab. Her pregnancy was very obvious beneath her fine blue gown, hands slightly cupping her rounded belly as she walked.
The Queen was flanked by Sir Percival and the sorcerer Merlin. Her father had not minced words when it had come to him - the wizard was dangerous and would see the kingdom brought to ruin. Yet he did not seem threatening, in fact he greeted people with a genial smile, even sharing a joke with a few as he passed. But her father had often said evil wore a pleasant face, and one could never trust a sorcerer.
Guinevere stopped to talk to a courtier, and Merlin cast his gaze over the gathering. Nella shrank back as his eyes fell on her, fearing he could hear her thoughts and hex her for her father's enmity. But he smiled at her and gave a little wave. Astounded, Nella could only wave back, blushing at his attention. Merlin leaned in to say something to the Queen, who turned and gave Nella a broad smile. She excused herself, Merlin taking up the conversation with the courtier as she made her way across the room to where Nella stood.
"Hello," the Queen greeted her warmly. "You're Lord Cartigern's daughter, aren't you?"
"Yes your majesty." Nella dropped into a deep curtsey, but it was unbalanced, and she wobbled slightly on the spot. To her great surprise the Queen took her arm and gently steadied her, and did not scoff or snigger at her paltry effort as some others around them. Her cheeks burned, but Guinevere paid them no mind, looped her arm through Nella's and led her away, Sir Percival following at a short distance and keeping the other courtiers at bay with a mere look.
"I am sorry I did not get to meet you on Samhain," the Queen said as they approached the stained glass so they could not be overhead.
"I understand," Nella said quietly, unsure of how much she should say. "I hope you are...feeling better."
Guinevere smiled again, and patted her hand. "You're very sweet."
"I'm just so honoured to meet you, my lady," Nella gushed, gaining in confidence. "I never met the King. Father said I was too young to come to court, but I wish I had. We...were related, father says."
"Yes, you shared a great-grandfather," Guinevere smiled and placed a hand on her belly. "Which means you will be kin to my child as well."
"Yes I will won't I?" The idea was very pleasing. "I'll be his...what exactly?"
"You know I'm not sure!" Guinevere laughed. "We'll have to ask Geoffrey." She cast an eye back over the room. "But for now I'm afraid the lords are growing restless, and I must show them some attention."
"Of course my lady." Nella curtseyed again, much more successfully this time. "Thank you for speaking with me."
"We'll do so again," the Queen promised, then made her way to the throne to call forward the first petitioner. Nella remained by the window, slightly apart from the crowd so she could watch Guinevere give court.
She hadn't expected it to be so boring, and after only a few minutes Nella was shifting from one foot to the other, wondering how Guinevere managed it. She gave each petitioner her full attention, as if she wanted nothing more than to hear their request whether it be a lord asking permission for his son to train as a knight or approve a marriage for his daughter, courtiers in a dispute over land or some other quarrel, or commoners from outlying villagers with reports on farming conditions and aid requests.
It was the running of a kingdom, Nella realised, the mundane and troublesome as opposed to the opulence of feasts and revels, or the glory of battle. She was thankful the task fell to Guinevere, and Nella could enjoy the beauty of Camelot without any responsibility for it, that she could leave court and return to the country if she tired of it. The Queen, for all her privileges, had no such choice.
Nella stifled a yawn as a seamstress from the lower town had come to offer the services of her daughter as a maidservant to the Queen. Apparently the woman had known Guinevere when she had lived there, because the Queen addressed her by name and they fondly reminisced about the past.
She saw a knight - Sir Ector, her father's close friend - grimace at the exchange. It seemed he did not approve of the Queen acknowledging her past as a servant so openly, but Nella thought it right - a good person like Guinevere should not be ashamed of her background, nor forget her friends. But she decided that she would not tell her father if he asked, for no doubt we would share Sir Ector's disapproval.
"Send your daughter to me," Guinevere told the seamstress warmly. "I'm sure we'll get along very well."
The doors to the chamber opened abruptly, and in strode Sir Leon looking grave. The seamstress curtseyed and then scurried out of the way to allow him to pass.
"Your Majesty." He bowed before her throne. "I beg you to dismiss your subjects for an urgent privy council."
"Of course." Guinevere rose, and if she was perturbed she did not show it. "Please forgive me," she addressed the crowd. "I shall give an audience tomorrow to anyone still requiring it."
Nella made her way to the door with the others who had been dismissed, trying to catch the Queen's eye but she stared resolutely ahead, her face impassive. Sir Leon certainly seemed disturbed, shifting from one foot to the other as if the lords and other courtiers weren't filing out quickly enough for his liking. It must be very bad news.
"I wouldn't worry my lady," a soft voice reassured her, and she turned to see Merlin escorting her to the door. "It's never anything we can't handle."
Nella wasn't quite sure she believed him, but appreciated he would try and reassure her. "I hope it gets resolved quickly." She wanted to speak further with the Queen, to say something more intelligent so she would be impressed by her, maybe even invite her to court as a lady in waiting.
"I'm sure it will," Merlin smiled at her. She was the last out of the room, and it was only then she remembered her manners, turning back just as the guards were about to close the doors.
"Oh, I meant to thank you sir," she said, and Merlin gave her a curious tilt of his head. "For pointing me out to the Queen, so she could come and talk to me."
Merlin grinned, and Nella thought absently that he looked rather handsome when he did so.
"No need to thank me," he said. "The Queen wanted to talk to you, I just noticed you first. And no need to call me sir, either. It's Merlin."
"Merlin." She bobbed a small curtsey, feeling flushed at the attention. "I'm Nella. Oh - but you knew that."
"Yes I did." He gave a kindly laugh and nodded to the guards to close the door.
Alone save for her council, Guinevere sat back down on her throne. Such an interruption when giving court wasn't unprecedented, but it certainly was unusual.
"What has happened?" she demanded.
Leon stood to attention before her. "My lady, as you know we have a...friend embedded in the court of King Odin."
Gwen nodded - Arthur had thought it prudent following the truce he'd brokered with Odin, since the old king was less than trustworthy.
"We've received an urgent message from them," Leon continued. "Apparently the King invited Alined, Bayard and Lot to celebrate the feast of Samhain with him."
"They've formed an alliance?" That would indeed be troubling news - they were four powerful kings, all with vast resources at their disposal.
"Yes," Leon nodded, clearly pained. "But I'm afraid there's more. According to our source, they denounced your Majesty's accession, and raised their cups to Camelot's conquest."
Guinevere was shocked, and for a moment she could only stare at Leon, unable to believe what she had just heard. She looked for Merlin, and found him by the doors looking grim, hands behind his back. Gaius was also in the gathering, standing beside Sir Owain looking very concerned.
"This is mere bluster," Sir Bedievere spoke up. "Brave words to cement an alliance, but once each of these kings are back in their courts their passion for war will cool."
"I do not think so," Leon shook his head. "The report is Odin at least is already mobilising his army. If the others join him, they will make up the most powerful force Albion has ever seen - the Saxons will seem like toy soldiers in comparison."
Gwen clutched the armrests of her throne. "And our forces are depleted."
"The new recruits are doing well," Sir Percival spoke up from beside her. "Although we are not yet back at full strength."
"There is not a man in Camelot who would not fight for your crown, my lady," Leon told her, and the knights called out their agreement.
But Gwen was still trying to make sense of it. "Lot and Alined I can understand," she said. "They've long been enemies of Camelot. But we have a treaty with Bayard, and a truce with Odin."
"Arthur had a truce with Odin," Merlin spoke up, making his way slowly towards her. "Made under duress."
"And Bayard?"
"He is a weather vane," Gaius said, having lived through the turbulence of the long ago war between Uther and Bayard. "Likely to side with whoever is stronger."
"But why wait?" she asked. "Why not attack immediately after Camlann, or in the months since?"
"News of the King's death took time to spread," Gaius suggested. "Alliances such as this are not easy to broker."
But Leon's lips were pursed, she could see there was more.
"What is it?" she pressed.
"Our friend said that they denounced the return of magic to Camelot." Leon grimaced. "That is the pretense of the invasion."
"Hypocrites," Merlin scoffed. "Every one of them has used magic when it suited them."
Guinevere looked around at her council. She knew she could count on the unwavering support of Merlin, Gaius, Leon and Percival, and there were several other knights she trusted would heed her orders whatever they were. But the old guard - Ector and Bedivere in particular - had argued with her about the return of magic even when there was no threat of invasion, and could rally others to their side. Would her knights be turned against one another? And what if the people discovered her decree was the reason they again faced calamity - would they seek to depose her? If she could not keep them safe, she would deserve it.
"It is very clever." She kept her voice even, not letting her inner turmoil show. "Either I give in and outlaw magic again, proving myself weak under the threat of foreign kings, or I refuse and they can blame their war on my intranscienece."
"Let them come," Percival spoke up. "They may have more men, but we have a wizard. Merlin lay waste to the Saxon army at Camlann."
Gwen looked to Merlin, uneasy. He was very powerful, she had seen it herself at Camlann, but she also knew that his abilities were not boundless, and she feared for his safety.
"No army should rely on the strength of one man," she said. "I do not doubt you, Merlin," she was quick to add when she saw his shoulders tense, "but the burden should not rest on you alone."
"I agree my lady." Gaius stepped forward. "I know better than anyone how capable Merlin is, but tales of his victories at Camlann would have reached Odin's court. They may very well be devising some scheme to neutralise him."
The thought struck dread into Gwen's heart, she hadn't considered that until now Merlin had always operated from the shadows, he had never been the direct focus of enmity. Judging by his expression, Merlin hadn't thought of it that way either.
"I'm not afraid, whatever they do," he said with surety that she was sure he did not feel. "I'll fight for Camelot, by myself if necessary."
"It will not be." Sir Bedivere stepped forward, his expression thunderous. "The knights of Camelot are the greatest warriors in all of Albion, we do not need to hide behind a sorcerer's skirts!"
Merlin looked down at his legs and gave him an amused smile. "Trousers, surely?"
Gwen gave him a look - his jokes weren't helping. "You all play a part in the defence of this kingdom," she assured them. "But it seems we will be vastly outnumbered."
"We should raid the border villages in Lot and Odin's kingdoms," Sir Bedivere offered. "Strike first, show our strength."
"No," Gwen shook her head. "What will Odin or Lot care if their people suffer?"
"My lady." Bedivere spoke as if explaining to a child. "If we strip the border lands of their resources, their armies will find it difficult to maintain progress into our kingdom."
"And how many innocent lives will be forfeit?" she asked. Ealdor was a border village in Lot's domain, where Merlin's mother still lived. "How many lost homes, ruined crops, destroyed villages?"
"Then you will simply give them free reign to pillage our lands," Bedievere pressed, "burn our crops, kill our people. It is the nature of war my lady."
"Then we must do all we can to avoid war." Gwen rose to her feet, clasping her hands in front of her. "Send a messenger to Odin reminding him of the terms of truce," she told Leon, "we must first try a diplomatic solution."
A week later, the messenger's severed head was delivered to the gates of Camelot in a bloody sack. Gwen felt sick as they gathered at the round table in another closed council session.
"They denounce your rule, my lady," Leon read out the scroll that had been returned with the messenger, itself spotted with the man's blood. "They say by lifting the ban on magic you have shown yourself unfit to rule. That they come to...liberate Camelot from a queen ensnared by magic."
"As expected," Gwen nodded. All conquerors called themselves liberators - as had Uther, when he'd claimed Camelot for his own.
"There's more." Leon's cheek twitched as his eyes darted over the parchment. "They claim you are in thrall of the sorcerer Emrys, the druid who has long been prophesied to be the downfall of Camelot."
Merlin snorted in derision. "They got it backwards."
"I wouldn't be so amused," Leon said grimly. "It goes on...they claim that the Queen's child was not sired by Arthur at all, but that you bewitched it into her, so a sorcerer would inherit the throne."
"They go too far!" Percival seethed. "How dare they insult our Queen, and the memory of the late King?"
Gwen was equally appalled, but not shocked. Her eyes scanned the round table, where many of her knights were making similar protestations and calling for Odin's head. She knew the timing of her pregnancy would seem convenient, especially when she had failed for more than three years to produce an heir, and that such rumors would be spread by malicious lips. But would people believe it as something more than a bit of salacious gossip, would they let their fear of magic outweigh their common sense?
"Is there more?" she asked Leon. He nodded and pursed his lips; the twitch starting up again. "Well?"
But he shook his head, unwilling to finish. Gwen took the scroll from him, and skimmed over the text.
"Odin says..." she pushed down the bile that rose in her throat. "That he will cut the...bastard child from my belly and smash his head against the stones of Camelot."
The room erupted into chaos, several knights rising to their feet and drawing their swords as if they could run Odin through by mere will. Gaius looked ill, and Merlin's face held a dark expression she could only imagine was the last thing Agravaine and Morgana had ever seen.
Gwen pressed a hand to her belly, promising herself that once she was back in her room she could collapse and weep and quiver with fear, but she must remain calm and unaffected until then.
"He does propose terms for peace," she raised her voice above the din, urging her knights to take their seats again. "As my husband," she continued dryly, "he would save me from thrall of magic and ensure that I do not fall prey to such evil again."
"Death or Odin's wife," Merlin said grimly. "I know what I'd choose."
"He has always coveted the throne of Camelot," Gaius said. "Seeking revenge for his son's death was just an excuse to pursue it."
"You must not give into him, my lady." Bedivere urged her. "You are Camelot's ruler, and we will serve no other."
"Are you certain?" she questioned him. "Odin would outlaw magic again, and you feel strongly about that."
Bedievere stroked his grey beard and regarded her with appraising eyes. "I have disagreed with you my lady, and have no love of magic. But I do not wish to see this kingdom fall to invaders." He rose to his feet and lay his sword on the table, tip pointed towards the centre. "I swear, I will defend you and your child with my sword, and my body, and if necessary, my life."
"Aye," Percival said, and Leon, and by one all of her knights stood laying out their swords for her, adding their voices in agreement.
"Thank you." She stood to join them, deeply touched that they would remain loyal against such odds. "We will face this threat together, and for the love of Camelot, we will not fail."
The following day scouts returned, and Guinevere held a private privy council in her chambers. Usually she only allowed Merlin, Leon, Percival and Gaius to attend, but impressed by Bedivere, she invited the old knight to hear his advice as well.
"I'm afraid it is not good news," Leon reported, pouring over the maps. "Our scouts report Odin mobilising an army with his own and Bayard's men ten thousand strong to march through Mercia. And Lot's forces massing in Essetir to the East, supported by Alined's army."
"They're splitting the invasion," Gwen reasoned. "To flank us from both sides." She looked to Merlin, "and even the greatest sorcerer cannot be in two places at once."
"It will split our forces too," Percival pointed out. "Out of contact, unable to communicate. It makes things harder."
"Even more reason why we should make a preemptive strike," Bedivere spoke up.
"Yes, well, I did have another idea." Merlin leaned forward in his chair, twining his hands on the table. "I'm sure I could find a way into Odin's castle undetected, and…"
"And what?" Gwen felt a shiver down her spine. "Kill him?"
"He's the one who wants Camelot's crown," Merlin said, "and he commands the largest army. Without him to rile them up, the other kings would not dare challenge us, I'm sure."
"You are talking of murder." Gwen was stricken. "You want to assassinate him...just like he tried to do to Arthur so many times?"
"He has no honour," Leon said slowly. "So no honour should be afforded to him."
"You agree?" Gwen leaned back in her chair. "Percival?" But she found no support there either, he simply shrugged, and Gaius would not meet her eyes.
"Sir Bedivere?"
The old knight stroked his beard again. "Your Majesty, may I speak freely?"
Gwen sighed. "Yes, of course."
"You have a kind heart," he said. "Such goodness was valued by the late King, and rightly so. As a Queen consort, your womanly grace tempered many a harsh judgement and often diffused a fraught situation."
He gave her a stern, yet sympathetic look. "But you are a sovereign Queen now, and you must understand that you cannot rule through temperance and kindness alone. You must have the strength to make decisions you may find...personally distasteful, for the good of the kingdom."
"It's one life Gwen," Merlin pressed. "The life of a twisted, bitter man who has threatened to do...unspeakable things. When you weigh that against the lives of the people of Camelot…"
But Gwen couldn't help but remember all the times Arthur had been that one life. How many times had their enemies sat in war councils and decided to kill one man in cold blood because they thought it served the greater good? Was she to be no better than Odin, or Alined...or Morgana?
"My lady, this is a terrible decision to make," Gaius put a hand on her arm. "But I believe it's what Arthur would have done in the same circumstances."
"No," she shook her head. "It's what Uther would have done."
"Maybe so," Gaius's voice was tender. "But that does not make it the wrong decision."
Gwen sniffed and looked away. "I thank you all for your counsel," she said stiffly. "I will give it due consideration."
Uther's chambers had been left untouched since his death, and the characteristic cold had turned to a deathly chill, a thin layer of dust settling upon everything from the chair where he had taken his meals, to the bed still made up with red velvet coverings.
Gwen hadn't stepped foot in the room in years, unwilling to cross the threshold of that ghostly shrine. It was even worse now, after his spirit had stalked the halls of the castle and almost killed her, after she'd felt his invisible hands close around her throat on Samhain.
Her fingers traced her neck, unable to shake off the memory. Even in death, the old king still hated her, and Morgana...she had not found peace either. Two tormented souls that had not even found release in death.
How could she rule a kingdom like they had? Perhaps Odin deserved to die, but there was a difference between a man falling in battle as part of an invading force, and sending an assassin to dispatch him first.
Or was there? Both would be by her order, and the latter would save the lives of her own men and possibly resolve the conflict before it began. But Gwen couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that it was underhanded, dishonourable - just wrong .
It seemed like the easy, violent path that Uther had always followed - quick to judgement, with little care for morality. But perhaps a king needed to make such decisions, to put aside their conscience for the greater good.
It was something Arthur had struggled with too.
They'd disagreed in that day's council session, and while Gwen hadn't pressed the issue, not wanting to do so in front of Arthur's knights, she remained annoyed, and he was well aware of it.
Tension was high between them at dinner - usually he would let her sit at the head of the table and take the seat next to hers, but this time took a more formal position at the other end and spent most of the meal staring at her. Even Merlin noticed as he served them, trying to crack jokes that didn't alter Arthur's stony facade, and Gwen overcompensated by laughing at them too hard.
"You can go, Merlin," he ordered eventually. "We don't need anything else."
"Are you sure?" Merlin had stalled. "What about dessert, I can -"
"Just go." Arthur gave him a hard look, and Merlin scuttled from the room.
"Arthur, that was rude," Gwen admonished him. "He's only trying to cheer you up."
"I'm not upset," Arthur said, but his scowl indicated otherwise.
"Aren't you?" Gwen put down her fork. "I only gave you my advice in today's council. I thought you appreciated my opinion."
"I do." Arthur leaned back in his chair. "But you didn't say everything you wanted, did you?"
It still surprised Gwen that he could read her so well. Even though they'd known each other for years their courtship dance had been hesitant, both straining so hard not to let their feelings show that they were often hidden even from each other. In the months since their marriage they'd grown so close so quickly, but they'd yet to have a proper argument and Gwen didn't want to spoil their so far uninterrupted bliss.
"I gave you my opinion and you disagreed," she said evenly. "You made your decision, I didn't think appropriate to question it in front of the council."
"I appreciate that," Arthur nodded. "But we're alone now," he gestured to the empty room, "and you sit there with a forced smile pretending that you don't think I've made a terrible mistake."
"What difference does it make?" she asked, not wanting to cause enmity between them. "You've made up your mind."
"Still," he pressed. "I want to know what you think."
Gwen exhaled, taking a few moments to marshall her thoughts.
"You have a good heart Arthur," she began, "it's one of the reasons why I love you. It's what makes you a great king - your strength, but also your compassion and kindness."
She chewed on her lower lip, wanting to use the right words. "But sometimes I think you doubt your instincts, and make decisions based not on what you think is the right thing to do...but what your father would have done."
Arthur looked at her for a long moment, his chin tilting slightly. "Is that so terrible?" he asked. "I listen to my council, I listen to you, is it wrong to think of what my father's advice would be? He was a strong king, he kept Camelot free and prosperous."
"He was a cruel king," Gwen argued. "He ruled through fear."
"That's unfair Guinevere." Arthur's jaw set. "I know he was not always kind to you, but that did not mean-"
"No, he was not always kind to me," she cut him off, a lash of anger piercing through her. "Killing my father and threatening to burn me alive - twice! - is as far from kindness as one can get."
Arthur looked pained - he'd been powerless to stop any of that. "I won't defend what he did to you." He rose from his chair and moved around the table, taking the seat next to hers and putting a hand on her arm.
"And I'm the first to admit my father had flaws," he said softly. "but he was not the monster you have made him in your mind."
"Wasn't he?" Gwen pulled her hand away, all the painful memories flooding back. "It was not only me he hated, but everyone like me. Anyone who was different, anyone who challenged him, anyone he couldn't understand - he wanted to destroy us."
"That's not true," Arthur protested, his forehead creasing. "He was harsh in his judgement sometimes, he overreacted when he suspected magic, but it was to protect the kingdom."
"Then why did he lock you in a dungeon for trying to save Merlin's life?" she pressed. Arthur grimaced and rose from his seat, turning his back on her.
"Was that for the good of the kingdom?" She pushed back her chair and stood. "He did the same to Morgana just for disagreeing with him-"
"Don't bring her into this," Arthur turned back around, folding his arms across his chest.
"Well there were countless others," she argued, truly riled now. "All those he executed merely for having magic - some of them children, completely innocent and posing no danger to anyone. He even tried to kill Gaius on the word of a witchfinder, his oldest and most loyal friend!"
"Gwen-"
"Your father was cruel, vile, and merciless," she pressed on, unable to stop herself. "You should not wish to be anything like him!"
She'd said too much, she knew it as soon as the words passed her lips. In times passed she would have demurred; bitten her lip and looked away, given an effusive apology. But she was his wife now, she should not hold her tongue as she had done as a servant. So she held his gaze, and he was the first to look away.
"He led Camelot down a dark path," Guinevere continued, "made her the target of fury and revenge. The worst thing you could do is follow his example."
Arthur was silent for a few moments, looking down at the floor as he shifted from one foot to the other. He was rarely so unsettled, and Gwen knew her words had cut him deeply, but she held her ground - he had asked for the truth, after all.
"I am my father's son," Arthur said quietly. "His blood runs in my veins." He looked back up, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "But my decision today had nothing to do with him, living up to his legacy, or going against my better judgement to do what he would have. Sometimes a king must be ruthless, or he can protect no one at all."
He sighed deeply, his wounded eyes meeting hers. "I'm sorry if it makes you think less of me."
"Arthur- " she reached for him but he pulled away and left the room, the door closing softly behind him.
Gwen sank back into her chair and exhaled harshly. It was his sadness that struck her - she almost wished he'd raised his voice, that they had exchanged bitter words, but he had met her anger with quiet resignation.
She tried to eat but was unable to, and pushed the plate away in disgust. Her stomach churned with regret - she hadn't realised the animosity she still felt at Uther, how much his influence over Arthur still troubled her. But perhaps she was chasing shadows, seeing ghosts where there were none.
Arthur didn't return by the time her maidservant came to undress her for bed. The young woman looked surprised to see Gwen still seated at the table before the dishes of uneaten food. She'd cleared the plates and on her return from the kitchens said the cook had told her Merlin had been seen heading off to the tavern, and she wasn't sure how the King put up with such a troublesome servant!
No doubt that was where Arthur had also gone, but Gwen said nothing as her maid unlaced her dress, helped her into her nightgown and extinguished the candles. Once alone, she crawled into bed but it felt cold without her husband's warm presence.
Should she have held her tongue? No, she decided, he'd asked for her view. But she could have been mindful of her words, not let her emotion get the better of her. Uther had been his father, it was right that Arthur should love him, and want to defend him.
But what had she said that was not the truth? Uther had been a terrible man, his love for Arthur a sole redeeming feature amidst a lifetime of brutish savagery. And yet, he had fought for the kingdom too, had defended Camelot with his sword and shield and that should not be discounted. It had ensured the relative peace of her childhood, when she had always felt safe within Camelot's walls.
The contradictory thoughts turned over in her mind as her eyes drifted closed and sleep claimed her, not sure if she would ever be able to reconcile them.
She awoke to the sound of Arthur bumping into the table and cursing under his breath, boots scraping against the floor as he stumbled across the room. Gwen kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep as he reached the bed.
He was still for a few moments, but then she felt the bed sink as he sat beside her, and the tender touch of his fingers brush her cheek. She could smell the ale on his breath as he sighed.
"Do you hate me?"
Gwen opened her eyes. It was dark, but for the moonlight streaming in through the window - she'd neglected to close the drapes, waiting for Arthur's return.
"Of course not," she said, peering up at him through the dim. "I love you."
He brushed back the hair from her forehead. She'd forgotten to braid it, and no doubt it was a tangled mess across the pillow.
"But do you resent me?" he asked his voice quivering - it was no idle question.
"For what?"
She was confused. Often after he'd been to the tavern with the knights he came to her bed with his blood riled, inhibitions lowered, and a burning desire for her. She'd half expected the same this time, their quarrel forgotten and her words forgiven in the heat of passion. But he was so melancholy, thinking she was upset with him, rather than the other way around.
"For when you tended to my father, that year when he was...ill."
Gwen stared at him for a few moments, her eyes adjusting and his face coming into focus. He grimaced, his forehead deeply creased and gaze intent as he looked down at her.
"No." She reached for his hand. "You didn't ask me to look after him, I chose to."
"But I didn't stop you," he said, distressed. "I could have made other arrangements, to spare you."
That was true. When Uther had fallen into his stupor after Morgana's betrayal Gwen had simply assumed responsibility for his care - no one had questioned it, let alone Arthur. He'd allowed her to wait on the man who had tried to kill her, who was the very barrier to their happiness. It hadn't seemed important at the time, but looking back Gwen wondered if it had given him pause.
"Why didn't you?" she asked.
Arthur ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I suppose it...gave me comfort, because I knew how well tended he would be. After everything he had done, you cared for him, and showed him kindness he didn't deserve."
He exhaled harshly and looked away. "I'm not a fool, Guinevere. I know...what he was."
She rubbed his arm, and when he looked back his eyes were bright with tears. "But he was still my father. He had many good qualities too. I know you didn't see them, but I did."
"I'm sorry I said those things." Guilt flooded through her. "I didn't realise I was still...angry at him for the things he did."
"You have every right to be," Arthur said, "and with me as well. I put my own comfort before yours, and didn't even think about how it might hurt you to nurse him after the way he'd treated you."
He trailed his fingers through her hair again, gently working through the wild curls. "I think if my mother had lived, she may have tempered his worst impulses." He touched her face, tracing her cheek. "Maybe I defend him because...I can understand why his heart turned cold. If I ever lost you Guinevere…"
"You would not blame the innocent" she insisted, lifting herself up on one elbow. "You would not ravage and rage and punish everyone else."
"I don't know what I'd do," he said hoarsely, and there was a desperation in his eyes. "I don't know what kind of man I would be without you."
Gwen tugged on his arm, urging him to lay down beside her. She brushed the tousled hair from his forehead, trailing her fingers down his face and tracing the line of his collarbone.
"I know," she told him. "The same man you've always been," she pressed her palm against his chest, "in here."
She could feel his heart beat, and shifted even closer, his arms folding around her in a familiar embrace.
"After my father was killed," she told him softly, "Merlin asked me whether, if I had the choice over Uther's life, would I let him die?" Those days were so terrible to think about, and she'd never spoke to Arthur about it - but she needed him to know she didn't hate Uther, or wish ill of his memory.
"I told him if Uther died I would feel nothing," she continued. "But being responsible for his death would make me no better than him."
Arthur's forehead creased again, and she reached up to soothe his expression with her gentle touch.
"But I was wrong - when he died I did feel something." Her heart ached to recall those days. "I looked at you, and I felt such sorrow, because you had lost someone you loved. And I knew that no matter how I felt about Uther, I would have done anything to bring him back, to make you smile again. So no, I don't resent you, Arthur, I never could."
"I'll smile whenever you like," Arthur said softly, but his arms around her tensed. "Even if I can't always do what you want me to."
That was the crux of the issue, not her feelings about Uther. They were so complicated; she had cared for him, pitied him, but remained angry at him for all her had done and deep down, feared Arthur taking too much of his father into himself. But it was her own animosity, she realised, she saw only the terrible, unyielding king, and refused to see the other side of the man who had fought and bled for his kingdom, and ultimately, died for love of his son.
"I would never think less of you for trusting yourself," she told him. "I may not always agree with your decisions, Arthur, but I will always support you."
"And I you." He smiled, his tense body relaxing as he pulled her closer still. "I value your honesty, Guinevere, and your judgement. If you ever truly feel I'm going down that dark path, you must tell me - never hold back."
"I won't," she promised, and sealed it with a kiss.
Guinevere sighed, and sat down in the chair by the window, where had so often kept Uther company in the last year of his life. She thought she'd come to terms with Uther's memory, but encountering the dead king's spirit in the forest on Samhain had brought back so much she'd buried so deep down she'd forgotten it even existed.
"My lady?"
She looked up to see Gaius approaching, and gave a disappointed sigh.
"How did you find me?"
"After you mentioned Uther?" He smiled kindly, and took the seat opposite. "Where else would you go."
She regarded him for a few moments, her heart sore with the memory of Arthur, and her mind still turning with indecision.
"How could you serve him for all those years?" she asked, the question that had been on her mind for some time. "Help him destroy people with magic, knowing you would never be able to protect Merlin if he found out the truth?"
"It's a good question, Gwen." Gaius sighed and rubbed his drooping eye. "One I've asked myself many times over the years."
He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands in his lap. "Self-preservation I suppose," he said. "I'm not proud, but there it is. At first I thought Uther's rage would cool, that he would see sense, and things would return to normal. I thought my influence…"
His voice trailed off, and swallowed heavily. "It was a slippery slope," he said quietly. "Before I knew it things had gone too far, I was complicit, and all I could do was keep going, help where I could, and hope for a better future."
Gwen nodded, rising to her feet and walking to the window. It was grimy; she could barely see through the glass.
"I loved Uther," Gaius said, his voice cracking slightly. "He was my king, my friend. He was not always…"
"I understand," she said, turning back around. "But I fear Merlin is close to tumbling down that slippery slope."
His eyes darted away, she Gwen knew he agreed, whatever he had said in council. She knew Merlin had killed in self defence before, and defence of others. But assassination? She couldn't credit it of him, and so was troubled by his insistence that he carry out his plan.
"You know Merlin better than anyone else," she pressed. "Why would he want to do this?"
"He doesn't want to, Gwen," Gaius said, drawing closer. "But he's so desperate to protect you...I think fear is driving him to a dark place."
She felt stifled, and turned to the window again, working the stiff handle until the casement opened, letting in fresh air and breathing it deeply.
"I can't let him do it," she said with resolve, head clear and decision made. She would not go down the dark path she had warned Arthur against, and would not let Merlin stray there either. She could not let him be the Gaius to her Uther, committing ever increasing sins for love of her, and not realising the gravity of them until it was too late.
"I am not convinced Odin's death will be the end of it." she turned back to Gaius. "Lot is equally ambitious and is just as likely to assume his forces. Besides, we must prove that we can stand against those who seek to destroy us."
"Those are reasoned arguments," Gaius nodded. "But I suspect in the end...this was a decision of the heart."
"It is," she confirmed. "And I don't care if people know it. I have been so concerned about acting like a strong king - unaffected, immovable, assertive." Like Arthur, for she had so admired those qualities in him, the way he could take change of a room by the sheer strength of his resolve.
"But I'm not a King," she added, her voice shaking slightly. "And I need to rule my way. With a woman's strength - a Queen's strength."
"You certainly have that, my lady." Gaius smiled at her. She returned it gratefully, but then a commotion down in the courtyard caught her attention - there were riders arriving, bearing a standard with of yellow and black. They were escorting a traveller in a long cloak atop a fine white horse, and Gwen let out a cry of delight when the rider pushed back their hood to reveal long blonde hair.
"Excuse me, Gaius." She put a hand on his arm as she passed and jogged down to the courtyard as fast as her increased girth would allow.
If she had felt relief at making her decision, she was elated at the new arrival, who ignored the hand held out for her by the groom, and smoothly dismounted the horse before tossing him the reigns and removing her gloves.
"Elena!" Gwen cried and picked up her skirts to move down the steps and greet her old friend.
"Hello Gwen!" Elena's face lit up as she embraced her tightly. "Oh, you've gotten so big!" she drew back, looking down at her belly.
"And will get bigger yet," Gwen laughed. "You have no idea how pleased I am to see you."
"Of course," Elena hugged her again, "I came as soon as we received word."
"Of what?" Gwen drew back to arms length, but Elena gave her a knowing look.
"You're not the only one with spies in Odin's court." She looped her arm though Gwen's and leaned close so they would not be overheard. "Surely we can share intelligence."
"I would be grateful," Gwen said with a sigh of relief. Elena had proved to be a great friend to her these past years; they'd bonded when she'd come to Camelot to be Arthur's bride, and after Gwen had married him instead, Elena had written her the most beautiful letter of congratulations. They'd been regular correspondents since then, and had often visited one another, although it had been some time owning to Lord Godwyn's recent illness.
"How is your father?" Gwen asked as they climbed the steps back to the palace.
Elena grimaced. "Not well I'm afraid," she sighed. "I have been acting as regent for a while now. I was going to write to you of it, but…"
Gwen placed her hand over Elena's. "I received your letter after Arthur's passing. I was so touched."
"I wish I could have been here for you," she said. "I was so terribly grieved to hear of it."
They ascended the stairs of the cloister - once Gwen had stood there watching Arthur bid Elena farewell, relieved beyond measure that he had not ended the day a married man. She'd teased him of course, and demurred at his flirting, for in the end nothing had changed except there was still hope. Back then the years had stretched out before them, but looking back it made Gwen sad to think of all that wasted time.
She was out of breath by the time they reached the top of the stairs, and leaned against the dragon sculpture that stood guard over the entrance to the palace. Even that had memories, as she and Arthur had used it as a secret meeting spot more than once.
"Are you alright?" Elena asked, looking concerned. pulling
"No," Gwen shook her head, and started to cry. Elena embraced her and listened to Gwen spill out her troubles -her longing for Arthur, the difficulty in the return of magic and her still uncertain position with the druids and the opponents in her own court, her worry for Merlin, and the threat of Odin taking everything Arthur had left her to protect. It was freeing to confide in a friend who was not also her subject, and Elena listened patiently and stroked her hair.
"It will be alright," Elena said, pulling a crumpled handkerchief from her pocket and offering it. "That's why I'm here, Gwen, to remind you that you have friends. That you don't have to stand alone."
Gwen took the handkerchief and dabbed her wet cheeks, gratified by Elena's support but still unsure.
Of course she'd considered it - Camelot had allies. Elena's kingdom Gawant, of course, but also Queen Annis of Caerleon, and Queen Mithian of Nemeth.
"But how can I expect others to risk the lives of their men?" she grasped Elena's hands, "when it isn't their kingdom under attack?"
"Camelot has always come to the aid of her friends, even at great cost to herself," Elena told her. "You have my support always, Gwen. As for the others," she squeezed her hands and smiled. "How will you know unless you ask?"