DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE .....
NOTES: Thanks again ...and I'll NEVER get tired of saying it...thanks you very much for the kind reviews!
BROTHERS IN ARMS
It had been weighing on his mind all day long, so heavy that Lancelot could do nothing to shake it off. It had been a good night, a night spend with friends just like they had done in the years before; sitting around the table, talking and drinking.....it had been like old times. And yet .....ever so often he would see a look of worry and guilt flash over Arthur's face when he had looked at them in turn: Bors laughing at the story Galahad was telling them, Gawain leaned back in his chair with his hands crossed behind his head, Tristan's bemused, secretive smile as he watched them all......
But when their eyes had met, Arthur had forced a smile back on his lips, toasting him across the table like nothing had happened at all. Lancelot could almost feel the question burning in his friend's mind, the request he did not want to make because he felt responsible for their future .....A future they had been talking and dreaming about for years. A future far away from Britain.
Wherever Lancelot had turned this day, the question had haunted him ....what to do? Confronting Arthur would not help him in this matter, that much he knew. It would only further the conflict he was already feeling and increase the weight on Arthur's shoulders.
He had the fleeting consideration of discussing his thoughts with Guinevere, but quickly thought the better of it.
The thought came to him on the wings of Tristan's hawk, flying over his head with a wild, joyous screech ....for better or worse, there was only one other person he might talk to, one who had Arthur's ear and might be privy to his thoughts.
He opened the door and as the light of day poured into the otherwise dark room, it found Morgianna lying on the bed that had been his resting place only days before, when he had still been sleeping close to death. Arthur's sister lay motionless and Lancelot realized that she must have fallen asleep after being up and about for days. She lay on her side, one leg tucked under the other, one arm cradling her head.
In sleep Morgianna´s stern, serious features were peaceful and relaxed in a manner that made her seems much younger and exposed. Her long, straight hair spilled around her like a sea of blackness, fanning out over the linen of the bed, covering the pillow in a dark gleam. Lancelot took in her resting form for a moment; the outline of her body underneath the dark blue gown she was wearing.....long , shapely legs, the soft swell of her hips, the curve of her waist, her pale skin ...the slow rhythm of her breathing. For an instant it astounded him to see that behind the harness of her station, her self-control and distance, there was a woman behind the witch.
Slowly he moved to retreat and close the door behind him when he found himself staring straight into her eyes. She had made no sound, had not moved an inch from her position on the bed......she had merely opened her eyes upon awakening.
Morgianna looked at him in silence for a moment as her heart beat against her ribs like a trapped thing and her breath caught in her throat. There was a hint of confusion laced with dread in her expression. To her relief, Lancelot mistook the look on her face.
"Forgive me, lady. I did not mean to startle you." He said hastily, ready to close the door.
"What is it?" she asked calmly, sitting up with regained composure. "I did not mean to fall asleep."
" Had I known that you were resting I would not have intruded......"
Her eyes narrowed .....Arthur had not sent him to find her. He had come out of his own accord, she realised.
" Lancelot ...." She interrupted him softly. "Why did you come?"
He took an impatient breath, angry with himself because she had seen through him so easily.
He looked out into the sunlit day, then back to her as though he was still undecided how to proceed, but finally stepped inside. Leaving the door open so the sunlight could still light up the room, he approached her slowly.
"There is something ......I need to know, a question I gather only you can answer."
"Concerning?"
"Arthur...."
Morgianna nodded, motioning him to continue, her attentive eyes on his face.
"I do not know what the two of you discussed yesterday, but whatever it might be it has weighed heavily on him ...."
"That is not true." Morgianna stated simply, her voice warm and with a hint of understanding amusement.
"You know what is weighing on his mind. You know him so well that you can read it in his eyes and that is why you came."
The knight shot her an aggravated look. He could not help himself, but her calm, controlled demeanour irritated him. Morgianna just sat there, looking at him as though daring him to deny her statement.
"He wants us to stay." He finally said tonelessly. "He wishes for us to stay, but he will not ask because he feels obliged to give us the freedom we wanted so desperately and for so long."
"He loves you all, " Morgianna agreed quietly. "So very much that he would rather loose you all than thinking that you would stay out of a sense of duty or obligation to him. He does not want his actions tying any of you down in this land ....or holding you back."
"You see much....." Lancelot remarked dryly, eyes fixed on her face.
"He is my brother....."
"Whom you have not seen for years and still you know his mind, still he confides in you and seeks your council."
"He is my brother." Morgianna repeated.
"So we are both just looking out for his best interest, covering his back?" he shot back.
"Is that what you do?"
Lancelot's eyes narrowed slightly. For the first time in their conversation her voice was not calm and even, it was still pleasant, still pleasing to the ear, but something else had crept in, something harder and more challenging. The knight gave her a satisfied smirk, having coaxed an involuntary reaction from Arthur's stoic, held back sister.
"I came here for an answer...." He admitted after a moment of silence.
Morgianna nodded, looking away from him at her hands that were folded in her lap. She still felt tired and it upset her that he would come to her for advice.
It was not so much the answer he sought from her, but what she knew to be true ....in truth he had already decided, whether he was aware of it or not. He had decided before he came, he just needed for someone, for her to tell him ....
A part of her wished that he would go and never return, that she would never see his face again, but she knew it would not be.
"You are a seer." He did not ask her, he merely said it and the words hung in the air like the heavy atmosphere just before it would rain.
Morgianna lifted her head to look up at him again, his face suddenly just as unreadable as hers.
"Yes ...but I do not have all the answers. There are many things I do not see, many things I do not know...."
"When I first saw you......there was a look in your face....." Lancelot hesitated, his brow knitting together in his effort to clothe his observation into words.
"Sometimes I can still see it, you look at me and there is something in your eyes, fleeting but there none the less, like you had seen me before....."
"I have...." Morgianna answered him, her voice bland, without any emotion. It took all her effort not to rise to the bait."I had seen your face many times, just as I had seen my brother's face."
Morgianna rose to her feet and moved over to him. She lowered her head for a moment as though to gather her thoughts, the she reached out and touched his arm.
"To know what you will, ask yourself this.....Where is your heart, Lancelot?
Because I look at you now and I can see that it is not in some distant land a million leagues away from here. Your soul does not live in a place that you barely remember. It longs for the memory of people and places long gone, but the idea of them is all that remains.Where does your heart beat? That is the place you will call home." Morgianna whispered to him, squeezing his arm once before she walked past him.
"What will happen if we go?" Lancelot called after her just as she reached the door. For the space of a breath Morgianna froze, closing her eyes. Then she looked back over her shoulder into his handsome face that held a serious, aloof expression. His dark, penetrating gaze seemed to challenge her.
"You will not go." She responded softly.
"Why?"
"Because she is not the only one you would have died for that day."
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Arthur took a deep breath, before entering the room. He could hear the voices of his men from where he was standing in the corridor. He had been standing there for a while, just listening to the sound of their laughter, their voices, the ebb and flow of their conversation. He was still warring with himself, unsure of what to do .....How to express what he felt.
They were his men, they had served him well for years ....he had fought with them, and they had spilled their blood and put their life on the line for him a hundred times over. They deserved their peace, they deserved their freedom......he knew that.
Asking them to stay .....Even if it were for the sake of friendship, in Arthur's eyes it was as though he was betraying them. They had longed to go home for so long ....
His sister had understood and it would never cease to amaze Arthur how clear she saw everything that surrounded her.
These men had become his family, more than just brothers in arms.....how could he ask them to forsake their home to make a new start in this country none of them were overly fond of?
Still .....He could not help but wish they would not leave.
The world they could build and shape together.....Arthur just knew in his heart that he would need them for this task. A part of him would die without their jesting, their banter and friendship.
Arthur closed his eyes, he had prayed to god for guidance.
Now it seemed to him it was a decision he could not make .....He would have to be honest, as they all well deserved and trust that in his wisdom, the lord would let them make the choice that was right for them .....Whatever that might be.
" Arthur!" Bors yelled, raising his beaker to greet him. "We were starting to fear you might have gotten lost on the way!"
"He has that gloomy look on his face again!" Galahad said with a taunting smile.
"Have you looked around and finally realised that you will be king of a stormy, dreary, and very cold Island?"
The others laughed, but Arthur shook his head.
"I am not a king as of yet, Galahad."
"Two more days......what difference does it make?" Bors protested, refilling his beaker.
"Or is it the thought of the wildcat who has finally caught you in her net that is making you look so glum?"
"Once you are a married man, how much worse can being king of the Britons be?" Gawain cut in.
A brief, haunted look flashed over Lancelot's face before he joined his friends in laughter. Tristan's eyes narrowed slightly, like a cat that had not missed the movement of a careful mouse.
Arthur stayed serious through all the talking, but even he had to smirk once or twice.
"My friends ...." He said finally, after they had all settled down.
"....there is indeed something that I will have to discuss with you all. As you all know these past days all kinds of people did not grow tired of telling me that this land needs me.....that I would be the one to make it whole and give its people peace."
He looked around, from one knight to the other, then he lowered his head, leaning both fists on the table, a gesture that spoke of his inner conflict.
"The truth is ...." Arthur continued, his voice a little quieter, but still strong enough to carry through the whole room. "....without you I cannot do this. I need your strength of arm, your vigilance and most of all your friendship, because without them I am not whole. I know ...I have no right to ask you to stay and it costs me dearly, to even speak these words......Each of you is a free man, you did not have to earn the right to choose were to go and were to live by Roman service, and it was yours and every man's since birth. But ...you do not have to go anywhere to have that freedom. You can be free here, you can have that freedom and rejoice in it ....here. I know I ask a lot of you ...."
"Arthur..." Lancelot interrupted him quietly.
He looked up to find his men lounging in their seats, chuckling and smiling at him in still amusement.
"Oh Arthur ...." Galahad repeated, shaking his head in silent laughter.
"Enough of your heartfelt sentiment, my friend or I might have to cry!"
Lancelot looked at him with his trademark smirk.
"There is no need in your attempt to persuade us, Arthur." He explained. "It is already done."
Arthur looked from Galahad to his best friend in utter confusion.
"Look at him!" Bors bellowed "Not even king and way in over his head already! We can't leave him here...."
Tristan nodded. "Somebody has to watch your back my friend."
"You will stay?" Arthur asked, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. At the same time he could already feel his conscience overwhelming him....he could not, should not ask this of them.
Lancelot read the expression on his best friend's face correctly.
"Arthur...." He said in earnest." There is no need for guilt. We all agree on this ...Gawain has said it before, we have been in this life longer than the other. The home we speak of, the place we've dreamt about ....we do not even know it anymore. This is what we know, this is who we are."
"And if I do not marry Venora soon, the wench might smother me in my sleep and make off with Lancelot there, before I even know I'm dead!" Bors interjected in his rumbling voice.
"She and the little bastards are all the family I have left. Why shall I drag them all the way through the empire to Sarmatia when there is nothing waiting for me! This is their home, this is where my children were born.....and Gawain...." He pointed towards the younger knight, grinning mischievously. "Gawain can just as well find himself a wife here....at least then we can ensure that she has a pretty face!"
"We trusted you in all those years, Arthur. You never once lead us astray, why would this be any different?" Galahad said simply.
Arthur nodded solemnly, trying to hold back the tears he could feel in his eyes.
"I thank you....all of you....."
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It had not been hard for him to find her. Even though the grass was high and went almost up to his knees, Tristan moved soundlessly through the weeds. Morgianna stood silently under the tall oak tree, motionless, unmoving like a statue as she looked up at the stars. Her coat had slipped from her shoulders to pool at her feet, but even though the night was cold it did not seem to bother her. She did not turn or acknowledge his presence in any way, but the scout could tell that she was aware of him none the less.
"You had me wondering for a while." Tristan said almost too quietly to be heard. His voice was low and soft, almost a caressing sound. "You hide yourself better than anyone I have ever met. I have been wondering for some time what would have you so scared ......now that I think I know...."
Morgianna turned her head to look at him, her dark gaze meeting his. There was the same feral light in his eyes that she had seen the night he had reawakened, after Merlin had brought him back. She knew it had been there before, it was all his ....the same watchful, intent predator's gaze.
The weight of his gaze made Morgianna reach out her hand. He took it without hesitation, leading her hand to his lips to kiss her fingertips. It was a simple gesture speaking of some form of unspoken bond between them that had been formed by their mutual acceptance and recognition of who and what they were. He saw her just as clearly as she saw everyone else and he did not judge. There was no reproach in his eyes, just understanding and empathy.
To some extent it was a relief for her, to know that there was one with whom she did not need to pretend and hide. There would be no deception between them, no show of false strength and for a moment the thought warmed her heart.
Morgianna gave him a cheerless, devastatingly sad smile and her cool hand smoothed the dark strands of hair from his eyes.
"Now that you know, you wish to be able to change my path just as I wish I could change yours?" she whispered.