The Moon shone high in the sky, illuminating the smoking rooftops of the lower town and the cream, smooth stone of the citadel. Gwen stood at her window, gazing out at the horizon, using the light o the moon and the few torches down below to see. In her chest, she felt the same deep pang she got whenever Arthur was away. A mixture of worry and longing that washed through her like the ocean on a shoreline. Her entire chest seemed heavy and ached but at the same time her mind was completely clear. It was a strange feeling, and one that she did not miss when her beloved returned.

"I'm sure he'll be fine Gwen."

The soft, comforting voce is what roused her and she finally turned from the window to look at her handmaiden standing by the bed, her face glowing in the light of the warm golden candles.

"I know," Gwen replied, "yet I just can't help but worry. It's silly of me, I know. Arthur's fully capable of looking after himself."

Rory raised an eyebrow and half smiled, "And yet every time he rides away you still can't help wonder if that will be the last time you see him. Every time he disappears over that horizon you wonder if he will ever reappear again. And thought consumes you, every waking second is spent thinking of him and you hate how helpless you are and at the same time feel kind of pathetic, like one of those damsels in stories who you dislike so much so you carry on as if he were here and distract yourself and sometimes it works but then at the end of the day you are alone in your bed and the shadows are creeping in and your minds turns back to the dark thoughts that you spend all day trying to repress. "

Gwen stared at the Skylish girl, not for the first time marvelling at her wisdom. "That is exactly it" she said, surprise etching her voice. "It's like you have felt the same way."

"You forget, your Grace," Rory said, pulling the covers back on Gwen side of the bed and fluffing the pillows, "before I came to Camelot I lived in a warzone for six years. There were days, many of them, where I wondered if that day was going to be my last, if that was the last piece of bread I was ever going to eat, if that was the last time I saw my brother or my friend ride off into the sunset."

Gwen climbed into the bed suddenly feeling silly; of course Rory had been thinking of the Skylan civil war. It was so easy for her to forget that she came to Camelot escaping it, but it was also easy to forget the Skylan war itself. Rory hardly ever spoke of it and barely anyone this far south really knew anything about it. If Gwen was perfectly honest with herself she hardly knew much about the Kingdom either let alone its rebellion.

She now looked upon her servant in a more curious light. Rory didn't seem shaken or upset, like you might expect a veteran of war; her expression was neither distant nor suffering but rather as calm as ever.

But still, Gwen chose her next words carefully, for it was very rare for Rory to even mention her past and Gwen did not want to scare her off the subject, curiosity finally getting the better of her. "You mentioned a brother, did he fight in the war?"

Rory's eyes snapped to her own. "Aye," She said and then after a pause she added rather hurriedly, as if she was afraid of what Gwen would think, "he was a rebel."

"A rebel?" Gwen's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "He fought against the King?"

Rory's face darkened. "He has his reasons," she muttered defensively and Gwen knew that there would be no more questions for that night. Rory blew out some of the candles leaving the few on the bed side table and turned to leave. Gwen watched her retreating back until she reached the heavy oak door, pulling it open when her curiosity got the better of her and she called out:

"What is he like? Your brother." Rory turned to look at her and Gwen hurried on, "It's just you've never mentioned him before. I always thought you were an only child."

Rory surveyed her queen for a moment before answering slowly, leaning back against the door frame. "My brother and I are very different and yet similar, if that makes sense. We used to be extremely close when we were children but I guess we slowly drifted apart as we grew older. Evan is..."

And it was now that the faraway look became glazed across her brown eyes as she stared off into a place where Gwen would never see, racking her brains for the right word before saying decidedly, "Noble, in his own way. He values loyalty and friendship, and is a skilled fighter and has a knack for judging whether a man can be trusted or not. He used to be really fun and carefree, with a bit of a mischievous streak, but I suppose he grew out of that.

"He's cleverer than he looks but at the same time is a bit of an idiot, yet he has said some of the wisest and most inspirational things I've ever heard, though unintentionally. He doesn't really think through what he says before he says it, and really lives in the moment, which makes planning for the future annoying to him, cause he just prefers to wing most of the time, bit like my friend Gendra. Stick them two together on a battle field and they're a force to reckon with let me tell you. They used to call him Stormsword 'cause of it.

"Through it all though, he is a good man, with good intentions, who has had a bad life and has had so much responsibility and duty shoved onto him that he has made some bad decisions because of it. But he is learning. He's getting there."

She looked now at Gwen a light smile on her face, though it seemed to be hiding something behind it. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you Rory." Gwen replied and Rory half bowed and left the room. It was only when the door shut that Gwen realised what her maid had been hiding was sadness, and immediately felt guilty that she had asked.

Walking back to her own chambers, Rory frowned and shook her head as if to clear herself of the heaviness weighing in her heart and the immense guilt that surrounded it. "Remember he's also a massive asshole" She muttered as if by way of excuse.

But still the feeling stayed, and that night the nightmares returned, much to the annoyance of the servants in the surrounding quarters. As walls can only be so thick, but then again, screams can only be so loud.


Twenty Leagues away, under a heavy mass of constant grey clouds that promised rain, Evan Stormsword opened his eyes. Echos of that familiar scream rang through his head and ears and his heart thudded frantically in his chest. And in his minds eyes he could still see those large brown eyes, so much like his own, filled with that look. That desperate, scared and apologetic look. He gulped then let out a shaky breathe, staring instead into the smoking campfire at the center of the camp. And that was when far above, unknown to him, Arthur made the signal and he and the knights advanced down onto the sleeping Saxon camp, creeping silently.

A few moments later all thoughts of his long dead sister left his mind immediately as he grabbed his sword and turned to the first red cloak he saw.

It began to rain heavily, thunder roaring and lightning flashing and the camp fire was completely extinguished. Evan swung his sword with a quiet rage, blood splattering onto his face...


Love Elle x