Out of Time
AvalonReeseFanFics
A/N: Hello there my wonderful reader! Are you ready to see what's going to be happening next? I know I am! We're back with Arthur, we get to see a little bit more of what he's doing, and, on top of that, we're going to have some relationship confusion for a little bit. For those who don't ship this pair, don't worry, it doesn't stick. As always, don't forget to fav, follow or drop a review, and I'll do my best to see you guys next week!
Shoutouts: Guest Reader
Chapter 51: Out of Ego
All of this started because Arthur hadn't been unhorsed during practice.
Now, one would think that was normal. That Arthur, being the best jouster in Camelot, would be proud that, in practice, he hadn't been unhorsed. Or even hit for that matter. That it was a mark that he would do well in the upcoming joust. The very one he had been practicing for.
But he wasn't.
He wasn't because Sir Leon had very clearly had the advantage. Arthur had been blinded by a glint of the sun off of Leon's armour, Leon had him wide open, Arthur should have been hit, should have been unhorsed, and he would have been because Sir Leon was one of his strongest knights. But he wasn't.
He wasn't because Sir Leon pulled back his lance and refused to hit him.
Arthur had been livid. He had told them when this started that he didn't want special treatment. But that exactly what he was getting.
Now Arthur was having an identity crisis.
Everything he knew about himself was wrong.
His knights… were letting him win.
Every joust, every championship he had won, won erroneously. His knights had admitted to going easy on him.
Because he was the Crown Prince, their future King, and they didn't want to be the one who hurt him.
Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?
His whole identity and sense of self had revolved around his success in the tournaments. It was proof that he was more than the special treatment his title won him. It was proof that he was worthy to lead not just Camelot's guards, but eventually it's army and Camelot itself, not because of the station he was borne into, but because he was actual capable.
Now he knew that most, if not all, of his wins in different tournaments and jousts had been won of his own merit. And if he knew that, and his knights knew that… soon the people would know it too.
And alright, maybe this wasn't really an identity crisis and more a blow to his pride, but it was still throwing Arthur for one hell of a loop. He had been all off kilter since he had found out, bouncing between great shame and fiery anger.
He had decided that the obvious next course of action was to prove to everyone that he could beat his opponents without the special treatment they had given him. He had, at first, gotten Merlin in on his plan because he was the only one he trusted.
And because, as his man servant, he had no choice but to help him.
Arthur had told his father that a beast had been found roaming the northern borders. He had been forced to make up some kind of beast, said he thought it was conjured by magic. That right there had been the magic words, as they were, his father was on board with him riding off and missing the joust right away.
Arthur had played that he was sorry he was going to miss the tournament but his duty to Camelot came before a silly joust.
His father had bought it, and Arthur got to leave the following morning with his knights. They stopped a little ways into the forest, told them to ride on without him but to meet him back in that spot in four days. Then he made them swear that they'd tell no one that he had gone back to Camelot.
Merlin met him shortly later, tripping over his own feet like the oaf he was. He was late, of course, but that was to be expected. He had brought Arthur his own clothes for him to disguise himself with. He had washed them special for him, though that hadn't fixed the smell.
Then they went on with the plan Arthur had dreamed up.
He had Merlin find a man to pose as a knight, which was not his best idea… to trust him with something as important to plan. The man he had found was a completely inadequate peasant boy. Yet, with a lot of help they had cleaned him up, put him in spare set of armour gave him some basic lesson and… well… he wasn't perfect enough but he'd do.
All they had to do was switch places. The peasant boy, with his helmet off would wave to the people before hand, go into the tent to prepare, and Arthur would come out and joust. When he was done the he'd return to the tent and they'd switch places again.
And so far, the plan was working.
Merlin kept saying that this plan was only working so far because Addison was gone. If she were here it wouldn't have gone this far.
And… well… he had a point.
Addison would have talked him down by now or, if he had gone through with it she would have let the secret slip by now. Or, had he gone through with the plan and not informed her, she would have taken one look of Arthur on the jousting field and known it was him.
Then she'd have let the secret slip then, only because she'd've confronted him about it. Probably in front of everyone.
But she wasn't there so none of that had happened.
The plan went on. Guinevere very graciously let Arthur stay in her hut, Merlin made sure that everything went well, and Arthur was winning all of his fights, and proving that he didn't need them pulling their punches to win. He was just that good.
But he was learning, on this journey, that there were a lot of pre conceived notions about him that were right. Like he really was a spoiled prince.
Like he had taken Guinevere's bed without realizing and she had been regaled to sleeping on lumpy sacks of potatoes. And he had stupidly thought she had a second bed tucked away behind that curtain she was always disappearing behind.
My god he was a dolt.
He had tried to argue that she should have told him that he had taken her bed and she had shockingly argued back.
"You shouldn't have to be told to think of someone other than yourself. You're not a child."
That was what she had said to him when he had asked her how hew as supposed to know if she wouldn't tell him.
It was something Addison would have said to him.
Though she would have told him off straight away for assuming the bed was his in the first place.
But because it was so reminiscent of Addison, Arthur mistook that outburst as banter. He had donned that roguish crooked grin of his that always made Addison blush and then had asked her if there was anything else that she would like to tell him.
Which was a mistake because it had opened up the floodgates to a lot of things he hadn't wanted to hear.
She reminded him that he had been saying that his title shouldn't matter, but he had continued on acting like a rude and arrogant prince while a guest in her home. She then reminded him that he hadn't said please or thank you once to her since he had gotten there.
It was the conversation that made him realize that she was right. He had rightly been horrid to her, as a guest in her home. He thought he had been masking his displeasure with the lack of luxuries around him, but clearly he had not.
And it had done something to his heart. Her tirade… it had made him both sad, disappointed in himself and caused his heart to squeeze. Like the guilt had his heart in a vice. He hadn't felt anything that strong since Addison. Her tears could play his heart like a fiddle and it seemed to be happening again.
Maybe this was just how he reacted when women cried around him… except for Morgana. He never felt that way about Morgana's tears, probably because he was so used to her crying crocodile tears to get him in trouble.
But he had shrugged that away and told himself and her that she was right. She had invited him into her home and he had behaved poorly. So he told her that would make dinner for her that night. Show her that he could wait on her, instead of the other way around for once.
He had then shoved her out of the door, told her to go for a walk or whatever it was girls like it to do and that dinner would be ready when she was back.
Which was ridiculous because Arthur didn't know how to cook.
Oh, he learned how to roast things on a spit when he was off on his sojourn after Addison died, but that wasn't this and it wouldn't be good enough.
Luckily for him, Merlin chose that time to come in. He told him to fetch a few dinners from the palace kitchens for him and Guinevere. Merlin was confused, but Arthur wanted Guinevere to think that he made dinner, she didn't need to know that he had gotten them from the kitchens.
Merlin had asked if he was trying to impress her, but he wasn't cause… well… why would he? He was just trying to be nice, and he wanted Guinevere to think he did it himself.
It had started off well, the dinner that Merlin had brought back for him.
Guinevere thought it was delicious.
They actually had a nice dinner. They were getting along, they were enjoying the food and he found that it had been a rather nice time. It was certain the happiest he had felt in a long while. For a moment there it felt a little bit like the way things were before he lost Addison.
A little lighter, a little less empty and lost.
"So, do I have any more annoying habits you wish to tell me about?"
Guinevere paused for a bit, she was clearly thinking of how to put it delicately, though he wished she wouldn't.
"No, none," she said eventually but Arthur didn't buy it. She was lying to him.
"There's something else, isn't there?" he asked but when she wouldn't answer he put on his most commanding tone to demand: "What is it."
"Well… the truth is… you snore."
Arthur was flabbergasted. "I do not snore!"
"You do," she said with a little bit of a laugh that made his heart flutter a bit. "The first night you were here, I thought a pig had got into the house."
"Nonsense, there's no way, Addie would have told me," he said without thinking. But the act of saying her name seemed to conjure her. It reminded him that he was supposed to be sad, that he was supposed to be mourning her, not laughing and having fun with someone else, another girl no less.
For Guinevere it reminded her that Arthur's heart belonged to someone else. To someone who had died and she couldn't hold candle to.
It basically ruined the whole mood Arthur had set up for them.
He stood quickly as Guinevere tried to clean away the plates. "I'll do that," he said.
He had planned to wash the dishes anyway. He had never done it before but he had seen Merlin do it and he knew the basics, so it couldn't be that hard.
"Where did you get those plates?"
"From the Cupboard," he lied.
Guinevere snatched a plate out of his hand and then showed them the back where he could see his own royal seal stamped on the back.
Well… shit. He should have put the food onto her own plates, and given the plates to Merlin. But it had been plated so nicely and Guinevere was coming and he didn't have time. Or think about that until that very moment.
"They have the royal seal. They're from the palace Kitchens. I've washed enough of them to know." He had hoped that she wouldn't notice, but no, he was not that lucky. "I take it that is where our food is from?"
He was found out, and that was upsetting… horribly upsetting actually. He didn't know why he tried to pretend to be something he wasn't, it was stupid. And because he was embarrassed by this, he found that he was getting angry.
Angry with himself, angry with her, angry for the unfamiliar feeling that was rolling around in his chest.
He paced away from her, turned his back on his friend so she couldn't see the embarrassment on his face.
"Look I can kill a chicken from 100 paces just don't ask me to cook it. That's what servants are…" He made the mistake of turning around to face her and the words died right off of his lips at the look on her face. "I didn't mean it like that…"
"I'm not ashamed to be a servant," she snapped. "At least I'm not a liar."
Wow. Hurtful. "We had a nice meal together, what does it matter where it came from?"
"Because I thought you had shown some humility. You had dome something kind for me even though I'm just servant. A Good king should respect his people no matter who they are."
Wow she was just going for the jugular tonight, wasn't she?
She turned to walk away and Arthur reached out for her. "Guinevere," he whispered as he pulled her to a stop. She turned back to him and he found himself staring down into her eyes. That feeling came back, that strange squeeze.
It was odd, because… well… it was the same sort of feeling he got when he looked into Addison's eyes. But he had feelings for her and… Guinevere was well… she was Guinevere. But he continued to stare at her, suddenly frozen in space, unsure of why she was affecting him in this way. Wondering when exactly it was she had gotten so beautiful. Had she always been that beautiful?
"I know I have much to learn. There are some things that I am terrible at, cooking being one of them, but also, knowing what to say to someone I care about."
That had been his problem with Addison. He had never known what to say, he had been too afraid to speak his heart to her. He had wasted all his time wondering what to say and what she'd think that he never got a chance to be with her in the way his heart wanted… well… not for long enough anyway.
But… he didn't care for Guinevere in the same way… he didn't think… did he?
She was softening to him and irrationally he suddenly wanted to kiss her. The thought popped into his mind almost suddenly, so suddenly it surprised him. But then the desire followed after it, confirming that it was something that he actually wanted.
He just didn't know why… why would it want that? Why was he leaning forward?
The door flew open and both Arthur and Guinevere jumped away from one another. They turned to Merlin who didn't seem to care too much about the two of them being that close to one another, despite it being highly inappropriate. He seemed to be panicked, though Arthur couldn't figure out what had sent the boy into a panic this time.
"Arthur, there's an assassin in Camelot. He's here to kill you."
Oh… that would why.
Well that wasn't how he thought this night would end. Things just couldn't be easy for him… could they?