Thicker Than Blood (The Brothers of Callington)
Chapter: 2 The Sheriff's Daughter
A/N- Three is a good number. Big thanks to my reviewers, sorry this is so late. I hope I don't disappoint. Here goes…
Gwyn tried to ignore the tight knot in his stomach, but the more he thought about everything the worse it got. The way he was feeling seemed similar to that of when he was facing his biggest foe out on the training ground. But he wasn't. He was just getting dressed to go to a banquet. He had nothing to be nervous about; apart from the fact that the crown prince and his potential future employer would be there. And the king of all Camelot. And his father.
But apart from that…
There was a knock on the door and Pip, who was at that point tying Gwyn's boot laces, jumped up to answer it.
Pip was a young lad from Callington that Gwyn had taken under his wing since Lucan had left. His brother had insisted on taking a manservant with him so Peter, the family's most loyal servant, had gone with Lucan to Gaul. It was in some way lucky that Pip had, at that point, needed a new home. He was a small boy of around ten that reminded Gwyn of a small terrier dog. He had very messy red hair and a habit of growling at people when they threatened him. But around Gwyn and Philippa he was very docile. She adored him and Pip often went out of his way to see her, even if it was just to say hello.
The door swung back on its hinges to reveal a very sheepish looking Philippa.
Gwyn sighed eyeing up his sister's unusual attire, "what do you look like?"
She stepped in with a laugh, "I was about to ask you the same thing! But seriously, you look very handsome"
Gwyn ran a hand through his hair uncertainly, "you too Phil. I mean… you look very pretty"
She raised her eyebrows like she didn't believe him and sat down with a sigh.
"What's the matter?" Gwyn asked tucking a strand of gold hair behind her ear. She had left it unadorned and plain but Gwyn always liked it better like that.
"Don't laugh"
"I won't"
"I'm sacred" Philippa looked him straight in the face and he knew she was speaking the truth. Philippa rarely admitted to fear and this sudden revelation worried him.
He picked up her hand and smiled reassuringly, "me too"
"Oh Gwyn" she laughed, "What are we like?"
Pip was just finishing tying a knot in the last lace when Gwyn bent down to him, "Thank you Pip, you've worked very hard today. Why don't you go down to the kitchen and get yourself some thing to eat?"
"But…" the boy suppressed a yawn, "The banquet"
"It's been a very long day" Gwyn replied, helping the boy off the cold stone, "I think you should get some rest. There are plenty of servants here. I'll try not to disturb you when I get back"
"Thank you master Gwyn" the boy gave a very small bow, "And you lady Philippa, can I get you something?"
"Thank you Pip, but I don't need anything" she replied, "You'd better get to the kitchen before all the sweetmeats are gone"
Pip saw the sense in the argument and quickly left.
"How's he coping?" Philippa asked once he'd gone
"Very well, all thing's considered"
Philippa gave a faint hum of agreement, "do you know when Lucan and Peter will get here?"
"I'm not sure. I have no idea of how long it takes to get back from Gaul"
They sat like that for a while, Gwyn still cradling Philippa's hand in his own, the both of them unwilling to step out of the room. The siblings both hated new situations and would quite happily run back to the quiet security of their Callington home. But Philippa knew how Gwyn wanted his own chance to shine, even though he'd never admit it, and he knew that she secretly longed for the thrill of adventure.
"Why are you scared?" asked Gwyn softly, remembering her earlier confession
"Oh it's nothing" she blushed as Gwyn fixed her a pointed look, "I just… father is going to be there"
Gwyn would say that it wasn't normal to be scared of seeing your own father. But Gwyn was Philippa's brother and knew what she was talking about. Sir Rogres had a flammable temper, but that wasn't the reason Phil looked so pale.
"You know he intends me to marry" she confirmed
Gwyn knew all right, and he feared it more then she did. Rogres had been trying to secure a marriage agreement for quite a while now and Gwyn was thankful that they had all fallen through. That's not to say that Philippa wasn't pretty… well, she wasn't in the conventional 'Lady Morgana' sense. The siblings had all met Morgana before and Gwyn remembered being struck to the bone by the pure elegance of the King's ward. Compared to her, Philippa was gangly and awkward. Although both girls were pale Philippa's skin lacked the delicate glow of Morgana's and her hair… well, that was another matter entirely.
But Gwyn never got the impression that Philippa much cared. Certainly, back home in Callington there was no reason to worry about what others thought of her, especially with Sir Rogres being away so often. But now for one of the first times in both their lives everyone would be looking at them, judging them.
Gwyn shivered at the thought
"I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise" he said, wrapping his arm around her. She leaned into the embrace and laced her arms around his waist. They sat there for a moment, gently hugging each other, drawing strength from the security they felt when they were together like this. But the night was drawing on and they had to face the hall sometime. Besides, Gwyn's stomach had begun to rumble.
"I think that we'd better…"
"Go" Philippa finished the sentence, releasing her brother and smoothing down the folds of her dress with practiced care.
They both stood, she straightening his collar and he tucking yet another errant curl behind her ear. Then they linked arms and stepped out into the cold, silent corridor.
For a few moments they said nothing, until Philippa thought that the sound of leather on stone might drive her mad.
"What's rule number one?" she said very quietly. Gwyn smiled as he remembered the game they used to play as children. They would make up a set of rules whenever they were facing something hard or difficult. Generally, rule's one to five would be useful until they got sillier and sillier. Once, rule number fifteen had been, 'Phil is always right, even when she is wrong'. Lucan had declared it stupid, but Gwyn thought it was possibly the best rule they had ever come up with.
"Erm… watch your step?"
"Good" Philippa thought for a bit, "How about, be nice to the blond one"
"I guess by that you mean the Prince?" Philippa nodded, "Perhaps we should make it, always call the Prince, 'your highness'"
"Don't be rude to the servants"
"Yes, but don't be too nice to them either" Gwyn added remembering how much trouble Philippa had got into for 'helping' a servant before
"Magic equals bad?"
"Magic equals so bad that we should definitely never mention it in these walls again"
"Agreed"
The statement hung in the air as the siblings approached the huge oak doors of the hall
"I've got a better one" Philippa whispered into Gwyn's ear, "Don't say what you are really thinking. Just bow your head, smile and agree. No arguing and no insubordination. Keep strong opinions to yourself and try not to bore anyone with talk about crop rotation. If in doubt, talk about the weather"
Gwyn smiled at her, "Do you think you can manage it?"
She laughed, "It's your big day. I'll have to try"
Merlin had been in the great hall for what felt like ages, but was more like an hour. The pitcher of wine that he was holding was irrationally heavy and although Gaius had made good on his promise of a salve, the handle of the pitcher was digging in at precisely the wrong angle. Merlin had eventually found that the best way to avoid the general ache that was settling on his person was to keep moving. And that is the reason that tonight, of all nights; Merlin was being one of the most attentive menservants in the hall.
Arthur had noticed this change and in typical prince fashion was giving himself the credit for this remarkable turnaround. Of course, it was all due to his fine skills of training and leading. That was the only possible explanation for it.
The crown prince played his part beautifully, if he did say so himself. Every lady, and possibly quite a few of the men, visibly melted under his gaze. Already several women had positioned themselves clearly in his sightline and were standing at practiced angles that showed off their best 'assets'. Arthur's smile illuminated the whole room and the sound of his laughter was of such brilliance it rivalled the angels themselves.
Well, maybe that's a bit far, but Arthur certainly carried himself with the aura of 'divine right' and the angels comment had been said about him before, so it was all fair.
But of course, the smiles and the laughter were completely fake. In reality Arthur was bored. It was in situations like this that he would usually distract himself by taunting his manservant or trying to goad Morgana into an argument. Today, however, he could do neither, so was reduced to making small talk with Sir-what's-his-name-son-of-the-one-with-the-big-beard.
He'd stopped paying attention to what was going on ages ago. So he completely missed the exchange happening between his father and a small group of people. Merlin, on the other hand, still possessed enough sense to keep his eyes and ears open.
He had noticed the gold haired knight (or knight-to-be) making his way through the throngs of people, his sister following close behind. Initially, he wasn't in the least bit surprised to see them but his interest was sparked when he realised that they were heading straight for the king. Merlin followed them with practiced stealth, not sure quite why he was interested in the skinny lad and his pale sister. But, he reasoned, if these people were going to be spending a lot of time with Arthur then surely it would be best for everyone if Merlin was to double check their credentials.
Realising that he was just looking for an excuse to eavesdrop, Merlin moved to an alcove that was secluded but not so much so that it would look suspicious. He turned just in time to see the siblings address a fat, balding, hostile looking man.
"Father" Gwyn said very quietly, bowing low as his sister curtseyed. Merlin's eyes widened in surprise; the siblings bore absolutely no resemblance to the mound of flesh they were now addressing
"Gwyn. Philippa" the round man bowed his head a fraction to his 'children'
There was a pregnant pause
Philippa took a deep breath like she was preparing to say something, but her farther turned, "Your highness" he bellowed, more out of the fact that he had a massive set of lungs rather then he was just being rude, "May I introduce you to my youngest son and my daughter"
Uther turned to them and acknowledged their presence with a small nod. Gwyn and Philippa bowed again and seemed to become visibly more relaxed.
"How do you like the castle?" Uther enquired
"Very much so your highness" Philippa instantly responded with a large smile. But the smile faded when she was shot a disapproving look by her father
Gwyn laughed, "you will forgive my sister your highness, she had not witnessed such fine settings before" Merlin had to smile at the tactful damage limitation Gwyn employed
"I am glad" the Uther's statement encouraged Philippa to lift her head a little, but her eyes remained fixed on the floor
"Do you intend to take part in the tournament?" Uther asked
"Yes your highness. It is an honour to even be asked"
"My eldest son is also set to arrive for the tournament" their father interrupted, "you remember Sir Lucan?"
"Oh yes" Uther responded genuinely, "he cased quite a stir a season or two ago"
At that point, an old knight addressed the King and stole his attention away, but Uther did look back. "I wish your son the best of luck, Sir Rogres" he said, not specifying which son
Philippa lent into Gwyn, "I am so sorry. I broke the rule"
"I don't think anyone minded Phil" Gwyn smiled reassuringly
"Philippa!" Sir Rogres bellowed, even though she was standing beside him, making her eyes widen in fear.
She turned to him slowly, "yes father?"
"I'd like you to meet someone" Rogres gestured to a man that had somehow materialised next to him. Merlin strained his eyes and soon recognised the withering but not in a good way, gaze of Sir Boris
"This is Sir Boris" Rogres continued as the party exchanged bows, "He is a Knight for Sir Uther and a powerful person within this court. This is my daughter Philippa"
Sir Boris's face twisted into something half way between a smile and a leer as he took Philippa's hand and pressed a kiss to it
"Please to meet you" Philippa tried to hide the stammer in her voice
"The pleasure is mine" Sir Boris continued, not letting go of her hand, "you look very pretty tonight, my lady. The colour of your dress suits you"
Philippa's cheeks flushed the same hue of burgundy as her dress, "you are too kind my lord." Merlin saw her arm tense as if she was trying to take her hand back. But if anything Sir Boris only held her tighter. He didn't say anything, just 'smiled' at her. Gwyn was about to step in when Philippa decided to deploy Plan B.
"The er… weather has been unseasonable, don't you think?" Philippa asked timidly now visibly trying to twist her hand out of Sir Boris' vice like grip
"Most unseasonable" Boris agreed. Philippa saw her plan failing and looked around desperately for an escapee route in a way that made Merlin think of a sparrow trapped in a cage. He was trying to plan a way of saving the poor girl but his exhausted brain couldn't come up with anything.
Luckily, he didn't need to.
"Would you like to dance?" Sir Boris asked
"I… er" Philippa couldn't decide how to say no. Then again if she agreed to dance he might finally let go of her hand, "That would be nice"
And then it happened.
Philippa took a step to the side just at the same time that Gwen, bless her, rushed past with a huge pitcher of wine. There was a squeal of pain and a sickening splash as a vast amount of wine became airborne and landed on the Lady Philippa.
"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!" a voice that didn't sound like Gwen's apologised. Merlin had to do a double take before he realised that it was Philippa that was apologising.
"It's fine my lady…" Gwen began
"Did I hurt you, I'm so clumsy" Philippa moved to the edge of the hall, directing Gwen with her so that they could talk without being stared at
"No my lady. I am so sorry for ruining your dress"
"Oh it's fine. I'm sure it will wash clean." Philippa's smile was so genuine that Gwen relaxed, "you know, I think it looks better this way" she gestured to the huge wine stain and laughed
"Dear me, first night here and I've already caused an accident" Philippa sighed, "I really can't apologise enough"
"There is no need for an apology my lady, it was my fault"
"I very much doubt that. I'm one of the clumsiest people I know, and that includes my brother!" again she laughed and Gwen couldn't help join in, "I'm Philippa by the way. I'm the sheriff of Callington's daughter"
"I'm Guinevere" the two girls smiled at each other, "but most people call me Gwen"
"It's very nice to meet you Gwen. Now if you will excuse me, I think you may have given me the perfect opportunity to retire early, and for that I am eternally grateful"
Philippa curtseyed to Gwen and smiled once more before turning to make her way through the scores of Knights and Ladies.
Gwen stared after the girl with a slightly bewildered expression. No one, not even Morgana had spoken to her with such a level of friendship on their fist meeting. And Gwen was pretty sure that she'd never met anyone who could take having half a pitcher of wine poured over them with such good humour.
There was certainly something very odd about that girl.
A/N- so, you like? I hope I wasn't being too obvious there. What an earth is going on with Sir Boris and why was Phil so eager to leave. Will Merlin ever recover his strength and talk to these two. Will Arthur ever stop being a prat? (I think you can answer that one yourselves.) :)
Up next; we find out whether Gwyn is a weedy as he looks, if sir Boris' youngest son actually has a name and Rogres' prodigal son returns.
Writing this has made me feel so much better! I failed my driving test today and it has worked as some sort of therapy. But do you know what would make me feel any better…?
Who me, fish for reviews? Never!