ii.

Arthur leaned over the map spread across the hall table, his weight on his hands. It wasn't accurate (they rarely were), but it was good enough to give him an idea of the terrain and landmarks that made up the place where he'd be leading his cavalry into battle. Spring was quickly turning to summer, which meant it would be hot, and there'd be plenty of movement-hindering foliage.

One of the large oak doors behind him creaked open. He didn't bother turning around; he could tell those soft footsteps from anywhere. Two slim, brown arms found their way around his waist, and he felt through his leather doublet the pressure of a cheek against his shoulder.

"I hear rumors that King Gareth is somehow controlling a magical beast. An unbeatable monster."

"Why, Gwen," Arthur replied slyly, turning around and hugging his wife against his chest, "I thought I married a woman too intelligent to believe such wives' tales."

"I don't believe them," she scoffed, pulling away from him and crossing her arms. "I'm just worried. We've been fighting for months, and you have to admit his army has shown unnatural strength and tenacity."

"His men have shown great strength and tenacity. Not unnatural." Guinevere stared at him, the shadow in her eyes not lifting. An amused smile spread across his face as he reached out and pressed his palm against her cheek, then brushed his hand down her neck and into the brown curls falling over her shoulders. He had seen all of her moods by now, and she was beautiful through all of them. "You should not be so concerned about me," he murmured. "Your duties should keep you preoccupied enough while I'm gone, and I'll be back before you know it. Don't start doubting me now, Guin."

"I do not doubt you. I'd never doubt you. But we've already lost so many knights… I just wish this war would be over. There is no reason for it."

"Protection is the reason for it." He moved his palm to the back of her neck, guiding her closer to kiss her. "I will protect my kingdom, and I will protect my queen. Those are the only things I live for."

He felt her smile under his lips. "Some of the things you say are not as romantic as you think they are, My Dear." But she kissed him back, draping her arms around his shoulders.

"M'Lord-!" A man barreled through the open door, only to come up short. "Oh, I-I apologize, My King. My Lady." Arthur's earl constable dipped his head, falling to one knee as his brown curls fell over his eyes.

Arthur and Gwen separated quietly. Gwen cleared her throat as she smoothed down her dress. "All's well, Sir Leon," she reassured him. "What is the rush for?"

"Well, My Lady, I… there is…"

"What is it, Leon?" Arthur asked impatiently. If it was truly as urgent as the look on the knight's face, they didn't have time for his shyness.

"Unknown men have been spotted in the West Woods, by the fields. They are advancing quickly towards Camelot, on foot, and are heavily armed. I fear their intentions are not peaceful."

Guinevere looked up at her husband, but Arthur's face was unreadable. "You must wait outside the farms for them," she said.

"No." He waved a hand to dismiss Leon. "We must go meet them in the woods, before they can get much closer. There's no time to saddle the horses, go tell the men to get into armor." Leon dipped his head again, then rushed back out of the room. Arthur went to follow, but Guinevere gripped his arm.

"What am I to tell the townspeople?"

"Whatever you must to keep them calm. If things are going badly, I will send a man back to tell you to get the farmers into the city walls. Hopefully this is just a misunderstanding." He met her eyes, gripping her hand in both his own, then kissed her forehead. "If we are not back by nightfall, have the guards bar the city gates." He turned and walked out of the room before she had time to say anything else.

Sunlight patched the forest floor, and birds chirped merrily in the trees. Nothing seemed out of place, but it was all the more unsettling that the weather didn't match the sense of foreboding in Arthur's chest. If men were coming from the West, that most likely meant they had run into and gotten past William's knights. No men had gotten past the Baron's forces before, he had some of the best knights in the kingdom. Arthur knew; he had personally trained some of them.

Arthur motioned for his men to follow him as he started down the left fork of the path. They were close to where the men should be coming up to, but the woods were silent. No marching, no orders, they could hear nothing except their own footsteps thudding on the dirt. They were not going to be ambushed, were they? No, even King Gareth had better honor than that. The messenger said he had seen forty men, so Arthur had brought sixty. They would confront the advancing men in an attempt to peacefully settle the attack before it could begin, or to at least find out the purpose of their invasion. But this was all, of course, if Arthur could find them.

In another few minutes, Arthur realized he could see something in the distance. It was huge, tall, and… alone. The king raised his hand for his men to halt, and he stood there for several seconds watching the structure. It was perfectly still. It looked more like a tree than anything else, but Arthur had been down this same trail too many times to be fooled. Whatever it was, it was new, and it wasn't supposed to be there. He needed a better look.

As he was about to take a step, Gwaine slid purposefully in front of him. "M'Lord," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "You do not plan on approaching it alone, do you?"

"It may very well be a trap, Gwaine. I will not lead sixty of my finest men into such a situation. If anything happens, I trust you will lead the men with the right decisions."

"At the risk of your life? No, Sir. Let me go instead."

Arthur had to smile at the loyalty. "I can take care of myself."

"At least let me go with you. Take a few of us and leave the rest. Leave Phillip in charge for the time." The knight squeezed his king's shoulder, his deploring look not giving Arthur much room for consideration. He knew his men were not loyal for the sake of loyalty; they were loyal for the sake of their king alone. Arthur could not deprive them of such intentions. "Alright. Go tell Phillip the orders. If it's an ambush, attack. Decoy, try to separate their men from each other by scattering individual fights into the trees. Anything else… he has a good head on his shoulders to think of a plan. I'll get the other men." He gave Gwaine's arm a pat as the man dipped his head and pushed through the line behind Arthur.

Once he had picked eight men to go with him, they set off at a slow jog to get closer. Perhaps it was the intention to make the group even smaller… but the men had insisted Arthur take as many knights in case they attacked him, so he'd have more of a fighting chance. Still, he felt uneasy about the whole thing.

They slowed once they were closer, and Arthur was not quite sure what to make of the structure in their path.

It was as tall as six men, its surface rough like tree bark, but blacker than any tree he'd ever seen before, and not a black like burnt wood. It even had undamaged branches toward the top, though it had no leaves. It didn't appear to have roots either, its trunk simply… ended. Arthur stepped slowly around it, examining it as his men shifted restlessly and glanced around. He got back to the front with no incidents.

"It's…" he said, trailing off. He had no idea. Gwaine pulled out his small dagger and stepped forward, stabbing it into the tree.

"Feels like wood," he confirmed, pulling his dagger. It didn't come out. He yanked it a few more times, then pressed his hand against the bark for an extra pull. As soon as his palm touched the structure, he jumped back, startling the rest of the men. "It- it's… moving," he whispered.

"Look!"

They stared in awe as the dagger slowly sunk deeper into the tree. Before it could become entirely engulfed, Arthur shoved at Gwaine. "Get back! Get back to the men!" They started scrambling down the path, Arthur walking backwards as he watched the tree swallow the rest of the dagger. What was this magic?

"Oh no," he murmured. Gwaine grabbed Arthur's arm, just as he spun around and grabbed onto him, pulling Gwaine down to the ground with him. "GET DOWN!" A black lance just barely passed over their heads, lashing like a whip. Men screamed as their bodies thudded to the ground, sliced in two. Then the lance evaporated like black smoke and disappeared.

Gwaine lifted his head, breathing heavily as he looked over his shoulder. Arthur followed his gaze, meeting the eyes of Osric– the only other man of the ten who appeared to still be alive beside Gwaine and himself. The man's face was slack with fear.

"What in God's Hell was that?" Gwaine whispered.

"I have no idea," Arthur panted back, looking up the path. Rushing towards them were the fifty men they'd left behind. "NO!" He leaped to his feet, sprinting to meet them and ignoring Gwaine's yelling for him to get down. "GO BACK!" They couldn't hear him over their yells and battle cries.

"My Lord, look! The tree!" Osric cried. Arthur turned just in time to see it collapse down into itself, then spread out like the same black smoke the whip had turned into, before it slowly began taking on solid forms. Solid human forms. Humans with black armor and pitch-black faces with no eyes.

He continued standing as his men rushed past him, still yelling, and clashed with the smoke men's front forces. Swords clashed, and it was that noise that pulled Arthur into the present. His sword rung as it was torn from its sheath, and he charged into the fight with his men.

He found himself locking swords with a swing meant for another of his men. The black knight before him seemed not the least bit put off by this change, though Arthur wasn't sure if these men had minds or not. He certainly couldn't discern any emotion from their empty faces.

It swung its sword around, and he braced his shield against its blow, then used the opening on the knight's left side to bury the edge of his blade into its armor. But instead of hitting, his sword sliced right through the man–like it was slicing through smoke.

Arthur stepped back, raising his shield above his head to block another downward strike. From the noises around him, it sounded like his men were beginning to realize something was wrong as well.

"RETREAT!" he cried, the word echoed by the rest of his men. But as he said it, the black knight in front of him evaporated. He took another few steps back before he realized that the tree had appeared again where it had been before; in the middle of the path, behind the retreating men's backs. "No! NO! GET DOWN!" he screamed. A body knocked full force into his, splaying him onto the dirt and knocking both his sword and shield from his hands. He saw nothing but blue sky and green leaves, but he heard the screams. From somewhere to his right, blood sprayed his face.

Trying to breathe after the force that knocked the air from his lungs, he pushed at the man on top of him.

"M'Lord, are you alright?" Gwaine panted.

"Gwaine, get off, go!" He shoved him off, sitting up and looking around. Bodies lay throughout the trees, not one moving. He stared, light-headed, feeling a fear he had never known before crawling up his throat and grabbing hold of his tongue.

"M'Lord we must–" the sentence was cut off by a guttural scream, and Arthur whipped around to see his best knight run through by a black sword. The knight standing above him turned, the sword passing through the rest of Gwaine's body like air, and looked at Arthur.

"No," Arthur whispered, pushing himself backwards, reaching behind him for a shield– anything. He couldn't take his eyes from the knight as it stepped toward him, carefully, its movements calculated as though it were a man trying not to startle a scared animal. "No," he said again, louder, raising his arm as the knight lifted its sword above its head.

A branch swung, hitting the knight with enough force on the side to make it stumble. It turned around, scanning for the source of the attack.

A pale face pressed right into Arthur's as a hand gripped one of his. "Get up!" the face yelled. "Run!"

He jumped up, his hand still being pulled by the other man, who started running as soon as Arthur had his feet on the ground. He sprinted along with him, not looking back at the massacre spread across the forest trail.