Gwaine had forewarned Dante that he would most likely be gone by the time she awoke - though not through any choice of his own. Arthur had put him on the early patrol, thinking he was doing the knight a favour, as it meant he'd be back in time to see Dante in action during her first trial. Although Gwaine was incredibly grateful to the king for this, he would much rather have been allowed to wake up beside the woman he loved and not have to sneak about getting dressed in the constant fear that he'd wake her.
Still, he and Dante had (finally) agreed that for the moment at least, nobody should know about them being together. So he couldn't protest with the King's decision in this instance, without giving them both away.
This meant, however, that when Dante did finally waken a few hours after he'd left, she was sorely disappointed to find herself alone in the big bed. Doing her best to hide the disappointment, she rubbed her eyes sleepily and sat up as Kahlee entered the room.
"Good morning Milady," the maid chirped. She was far too bright in the mornings and sometimes it grated on Dante's nerves. Today was one such day.
"Is it?" she grumbled, attempting to bury herself back under her covers again.
Kahlee was momentarily taken aback. But then she shrugged and carried on as if nothing had happened, throwing the curtains open and flooding the bed in golden rays of early morning sunlight, which only caused Dante to groan and protest even louder.
"Now now, Milady. The King wants you up bright and early," Kahlee reminded, knowing full well by now that Dante really was not a morning person. As such, she'd also learned not to take anything that Dante said in the mornings personally. Such as the very colourful comment that had just filtered from under the sheets about Arthur, and where he could stick his early mornings.
The maid just shrugged again, holding back her laughter as she busied herself about the room, tidying it and getting it ready for the day, as Dante remained stubbornly hidden under the covers, grumbling and groaning.
Dante didn't even surface when there was a loud rap at the door to her outer chambers.
"I'll go then, shall I?" Kahlee offered brightly, earning an "it's what you're paid for" comment in return. Smirking at the infamous bad mood of her mistress, Kahlee went to open the door, only to find Arthur himself standing outside.
"Your Majesty," she gasped, dropping into a quick curtsey.
"Is Dante coming down today, or not?" Arthur demanded, looking over the maid's shoulder to the bedroom.
"She is...being rather difficult, Sire," Kahlee confessed eventually, not really sure how to word it any other way.
"Difficult?" Arthur groaned, marching into the room."Not again...Dante Quincailan! Get out here now and stop being so stubborn!"
There was silence for a moment, and then a very long, VERY colourful stream of curses thrown back at him. Even Kahlee blushed at some of them. She frowned apologetically to the king, who rolled up his sleeves.
"Don't make me come in there and get you! You've got until the count of three! One...two..."
A pillow came sailing out the door, and he ducked, narrowly avoiding it.
"Right, I have had it with you and your pathetic early morning grouches! Get out here and behave like a grown up, or I'm stripping you of your new title and putting you on stable duty for a week!"
Another pillow flew out and caught him square in the face.
"STABLE DUTY FOR A MONTH!" He roared as Kahlee scampered to collect the pillows before he could launch them back in retaliation and start a full blown pillow fight. The last time that had happened, it had snapped Dante out of her bad mood pretty quickly, but Kahlee had then spent the next three days picking up all the feathers.
"Right," Arthur growled, pulling off his gloves and passing them to Kahlee. "She leaves me no choice."
And he marched straight into the lion's den. There were several shouts of indignation and then a shriek, followed by more cursing, a loud crash and a cry of surprise from Arthur.
He quickly came back out with the bed sheets, two remaining pillows and even one of the silk drapes that hung around her bed in his arms. Throwing them at Kahlee, his cheeks bright red and his ears burning crimson, he then bolted for the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Kahlee looked from the dismantled bed in her arms, to the door the King had just retreated very quickly through, and then back to the bedroom again in time to see Dante emerge, looking bedraggled and very annoyed as she stood shivering, wrapped only in a thin blanket which she must have snatched from somewhere in a hurry. She, too, was blushing madly and Kahlee quickly figured out what must have happened.
"I thought you always slept in a gown?" she asked innocently, trying to hide her amusement. Dante scowled at her.
"It was too hot last night and the silk was irritating," she growled, clutching the blanket tighter round herself. "Besides, I never expected Arthur to come barging into my room like that. You could have warned me!"
"I didn't know he would do that, Milady!" Kahlee protested, dropping the bed sheets and throwing her hands up in defence.
Dante growled again incoherently and stormed back into her bedroom to get dressed, and Kahlee just chuckled, not believing Dante's excuse about it being hot, for one second. She'd seen Gwaine slinking away from this very room a few hours earlier, and didn't, for one minute, believe that he'd just 'stopped by for a quick chat' on his way to morning patrol.
Still, she went along with it for now, and hurried down to the kitchen to get Dante's breakfast. The sooner Dante got some food into her, and a good cup of iced milk and honey, the sooner her bad mood would clear up and she'd be far more civil and easier to get on with again.
How she'd react to Arthur after what he'd just seen, however, was another matter entirely, and Kahlee desperately hoped that she could be in the room when they finally came face to face once more.
...
Sadly, the young maid was sorely disappointed, because Dante and Arthur were wearing their 'professional' masks when she finally slipped in to join the other servants at the back of the room, sometime later, whilst awaiting the trials to begin. Nobody would ever have known that anything had happened between the King and his First Lady - who were being perfectly civil and polite to one another. There was not a blush in sight, and Kahlee quickly decided that they were single-handedly the two most gifted actors she had ever come across.
And the fact that Gwen was conversing with both as if nothing had happened either told Kahlee that actually, the Queen probably didn't even know. If Arthur and Dante had decided to keep it a secret from Arthur's wife, then that was their choice...but if she'd been in their shoes, she'd have told everything, then and there. Made it much less messy on the whole to deal with, and people could not use it as blackmail against you later, either. She made a mental note to advise this to her Mistress later, then turned to watch as the people who wished to petition to the king filed into the room, standing in their designated area, in a long line down the centre, between the two crowds.
Arthur glanced at Dante, before standing.
"I would like to thank you all for coming, and inform you of one very slight change to the usual routine of these hearings. The Lady Dante joins us today, in order to learn about our laws and customs, and to aid myself and our queen in solving matters of dispute. Please give her the honour and the courtesy that she deserves, and respect her decisions as if they were my own."
A ripple of surprise ran through the crowd then, but every set of eyes turned on Dante, who fought to keep her nerves from showing, as she stood up, hands clenched tightly into fists behind her back.
From the front, she looked regal and dignified - everything a First Lady should be. But to Arthur and Gwen, she looked scared to death. Gwen nodded to her encouragingly.
She cleared her throat. "Will the first petitioners please step forwards."
Two women came forwards, glaring daggers at one another as a Camelot Guard stepped between them, holding a sleeping infant. All three bowed their respects to the Royals, as Dante took her seat again, prepared to listen to what they had to say. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gwaine slip in through a side door, and instantly felt all the tensions of that morning fading in an instant.
The guard stepped forward then. He would be the mediator in this particular dispute, as with all disputes. Arthur had explained to Dante just before the petitions had begun that each dispute had a mediator, who would give a summary of the situation on behalf of both parties. That way there was no jostling for voices to be heard, no conflicting statements being shouted at the same time and no one side being favoured over the other. The mediator would explain the situation, and then each side would take it in turns to explain their version of events, answering any questions posed to them.
"Your Majesties. My Lady..." the guard spoke, carefully cradling the baby in his arms. "This child was born four months past in a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom. To my left is Miss Katelyn, who claims to be the child's mother. And to my right, Miss Kara, who also claims the child as her own. With no known father to confirm who is the rightful mother of the child, the matter has been brought before you to decide who may raise him."
Arthur groaned and placed a hand to his head. He hated these kinds of disputes. How could he decide who was rightfully the child's mother? But, to his surprise, before he could even begin to question either woman, Dante leaned across the arm of her chair to get his attention.
"May I?" she asked quietly. "My father encountered a similar dispute once, when I was younger. He showed me a painless way to solve it."
"Absolutely," Arthur nodded in earnest. "Be my guest."
So Dante turned back to the assembled crowd and cleared her throat again. "Miss Katelyn?" She called out, and the woman called Katelyn stepped forwards.
"My Lady," she said, with another quick bow.
"Tell me, Miss Katelyn, why your child has no father," Dante said after a moment of carefully studying the woman. She bore all the trademarks of a woman who had recently given birth.
"He was a soldier for our good King's army," Katelyn explained. "Guy, son of Garsiv."
"He was killed in action a year ago," Arthur informed the court, remembering the name.
"He was, My Lord. He would have loved to have seen his son grow. He has his eyes."
"I'm sure he does," Dante said kindly. Then she turned to Kara. "And why does your son not have a father?"
Like Katelyn, Kara also bore all the trademark signs of a woman who had recently given birth.
"He was a smuggler - Varick Gathorn," she admitted quietly. "He would often sneak away from his group to meet with me in the barn at the back of my father's farm."
"Killed during the Camelot uprising, Your Majesties." This time it was Tristan's turn to speak up, though it was of no surprise, as he had been a smuggler in the same group as this man, apparently, and knew him well. "A good man."
Dante nodded thoughtfully. She studied each woman for a long moment, then looked at the child in the guard's arms.
"Kara, what is your son's name?"
"Luke, My Lady."
"And Katelyn, what is your son called?"
"Alistair, My Lady."
Dante frowned. Was that just a mere coincidence, or had Katelyn somehow known that her brother was called Alistair, and gone for what she hoped might be a vote of favour by naming her son after him? Considering very few people knew the names of her family members, Dante decided to give the woman the benefit of the doubt...for now. Even though there was something suspicious about the way she was nervously shifting from one foot to another and avoiding complete eye contact. She was looking AT Dante, certainly, but she was not looking at her eyes...rather her shoulder. Dante briefly glanced down to see if there was anything of interest on her shoulder, then frowned, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and resumed her questioning once more.
This reaction could have been mere nerves, after all
"And where was Alistair born?"
"At home, Milady. With my handmaiden and eldest daughter as witness."
"Are they here today?"
"No Milady."
"Pity. Kara, where was Luke born?"
"At home, Milady. With my father and cousin as witness."
"And let me guess, they are not here today, either?"
"No Milady."
Dante groaned. "Did it not occur to either of you that this whole mess could have been dealt with by now, had you thought to bring these witnesses you claim?"
Arthur eyed her sharply and there was another ripple of surprise running through the crowd as she stood up and walked over to the guard holding the baby. Taking the child carefully from him, she looked down at the sleeping baby. It was impossible to tell from his incredibly cute baby features just who he resembled. And both women's stories were holding strong. His mother could have been either woman. So was he Alistair? Or was he Luke? She'd hoped that one woman would trip up, make a mistake and the matter would be easy to resolve. She had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but the women left her no choice.
"Sir Gwaine, your sword please, if you will," she called out, turning to look at him. He stared at her in stunned silence, but when he saw the look she gave him, which quite clearly said "trust me, I know what I'm doing," he reluctantly stepped forwards, drawing his weapon with a ring of steel. Both mothers bristled anxiously, and even Arthur and Guinevere sat up straighter in their thrones.
"Now," Dante turned to the women with a bright smile. "It's impossible for me to choose who is the right mother and who isn't, so you're just going to have to share. How would you like your son to be split? Head to toe? Or across the middle?"
Several cries and shouts went up then from the enraged crowd, and Arthur stood up sharply. "Dante, that's enough," he ordered, but she ignored him and turned to Gwaine.
"Swing your sword when I tell you," she hissed quietly. "But whatever you do, don't touch the child." Seeing his reluctance, she held his gaze firmly and said, "Trust me."
He nodded, and she turned back to the two women.
"Well, as neither of you seems particularly bothered, I say Sir Gwaine, the choice is up to you. Kindly split the boy for me, so these two lovely young women may be on their way?"
She nodded at him, and Gwaine very reluctantly drew his sword up above his head as she held the baby out at arm's length.
"Dante!" Arthur roared, rushing towards her as Gwaine swung the sword down in a slow arc. But Dante had a plan.
And it worked like a charm.
"NO!" Kara screamed, rushing forwards and throwing herself between Gwaine and her son. Gwaine dropped his sword back by his side again in relief.
There was a deathly silence in the room for several seconds then, and Dante looked to the other woman. Katelyn hadn't even flinched.
"Here's your son," Dante said quietly to Kara. "I'm sorry for the deception. He was never in any danger. I would not dream of hurting an innocent. Especially one as gorgeous as him."
"Thank you My lady," Kara breathed in relief as she cradled her son close to her. Dante turned back to Katelyn, who had realised her mistake too late, and was now cursing herself.
"What happened to your own child?" Dante asked softly, walking over to place a hand on her shoulder.
"He did not survive the birth, Milady," Katelyn admitted as she began to sniff and sob. Dante pulled her into a comforting embrace as the tears began to flow freely then.
"So you thought you would steal another woman's child and pretend he was yours," she realised, feeling nothing but sorrow and pity for the woman then. Katelyn didn't even bother trying to deny it.
As the guards started forwards to arrest her, Dante waved them away and finally freed herself from Katelyn. "Whilst your actions were not wise, I can sympathise with your reasons. Therefore you are free to go. However, if you ever try to pull a stunt like that again, I'm afraid I will have no choice but to have you arrested. Is that understood?"
"Of course, My Lady. Thank you! Thank you so much!"
"Yes Milady. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!" Kara added. Then she turned to Katelyn. "I'm sorry about your son."
"And I'm sorry I tried to steal yours."
"There now, are we all friends again?" Dante asked brightly. She offered them both a friendly smile as they were ushered out and then she retook her seat beside Gwen, who was beaming proudly.
"See, I told you," she muttered. Dante rolled her eyes.
"Yes alright, maybe this petition stuff isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."
"Well done," Arthur congratulated sincerely, leaning across his wife so that he would not have to raise his voice. "I would never have thought of that. We'd still be going round in circles now if I'd taken that one."
"Like I said, my father once had a similar dispute between two of his farmers. Only it was over a horse, not a child."
Arthur snorted in amusement. "Who won?"
"Neither. My father took the horse as his own, when he threatened to cut it in half, and neither man flinched. Turns out neither man was the owner. They'd both stolen it and were arguing over who got the prize."
Arthur couldn't help it then, and roared with laughter. Even Gwen couldn't contain her fit of giggles, and everyone in the room glanced up at the Royals in amusement. Even the other petitioners, who had been quietly arguing amongst themselves until then, glanced up in surprise. Their looks of fear turned to looks of hope instead. With the King and Queen in such good moods, perhaps their wishes would be granted, after all. Though everyone was in firm agreement, after the first dispute, that the Lady Dante was definitely one to watch out for in the future.
...
As the morning wore on, Arthur took over most of the disputes and petitions, though occasionally Gwen would step in to give assistance. Dante, however, remained quiet, choosing to watch how Arthur dealt with the situations instead. He was fair and just in all his decisions, she noticed, and would take both sides into account when passing a sentence or judgement. He'd also consult her and Gwen whenever he seemed unsure, and would listen to their advice carefully.
This man was born to lead, she decided. And whatever reservations she may have had about him before - whatever simmering hate she may be harbouring over his apparent ease at condemning her to death...she could not deny that he was a good king.
Neither could she deny that she was bored of petitions now, either. There's only so much arguing and protesting a person can stand before they go mad, and Dante had passed that point ages ago. Now she'd resorted to studying one of her sleeves, out of sheer boredom.
Glancing across, Gwen saw the look of concentration on her face and whispered quietly, "What are you doing?"
"Counting stitches," Dante replied, equally as quietly. "There's at least two thousand in this first row alone."
Gwen made a weird strangled noise then, as she fought to keep from laughing aloud. A momentary hush descended over the room and everyone glanced at her. Colouring with embarrassment, she motioned for Arthur to continue. He stared at her for a minute longer, then shrugged it off and motioned for the petition to continue. Gwen studiously avoided all eye contact with Dante after that, for fear that she'd do something equally as amusing to get her into trouble once more.
Dante, meanwhile, stared back at Gwen out of the corner of her eye, fighting a grin of her own. That was when she saw Gwaine moving his hands ever so slightly.
To anyone watching, it would merely have looked like he was fidgeting, wringing his hands a little or twiddling his thumbs. But to Dante, this fidgeting had a whole different meaning. Because long ago, when they were children, she and Gwaine had invented a secret code that relied on hand signals so that they could communicate to one another, no matter where they were, or what they were doing at the time. Her brothers had been in on the 'code' as well, but nobody else had been privy to it, and it had been their little secret. Dante had been so thrilled, as a child, to have a special secret all to herself.
These days, she had so many secrets, she could barely keep track of them.
She blinked now, staring back at Gwaine just to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was. After all, she had not seen the 'code' be put to use for at least ten years now, and she could very well be mistaken. And yet there it was, right in front of her, and she couldn't deny that it was in fact the 'code', because Gwaine was staring right at her, to make sure he was getting his point across.
She nodded ever so slightly to show him that she'd acknowledged his request - to meet up after the meeting - then tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear - the sign for 'yes'. Or 'okay', depending on the context it was being used in.
Yes, she would meet him after the meeting.
Then she sat up a little straighter, tilting her head ever so slightly to one side. The symbol for 'where?'.
He appeared to consider for a moment, then held a hand down by his side, flexing it as if he had cramp. In reality, this was their secret symbol for 'leave that to me'.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear again, to acknowledge this.
Then he made a very brief gesture towards himself, followed by a gesture towards her, and then a nod towards the door. This wasn't part of their code, but his meaning couldn't have been clearer. Did she want to leave now?
This time she tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear with a frown. This was her way of saying 'no'.
A shrug of his shoulders. 'Why?'
She made a point of looking straight at Arthur, and then to each of the doors around the room in turn. There was no way she'd ever be able to slip out unnoticed.
Gwaine breathed in deeply and nodded - he'd seen her point, and was admitting to defeat in this silent argument. After a moment, he made a very small gesture holding his hand by his side, palm to the floor. Then he raised it up and down slightly. He was telling her to wait. Then a shrug of his shoulders showed that it was a question.
Did she want him to wait?
She tucked a strand behind her right ear again. 'Yes.'
Now it was his turn to tuck a strand of hair behind his right ear. 'Okay.'
Thankfully he didn't have long to wait, because after the current petition had been resolved, Arthur stood and held up a hand. "Thank you, no more petitions today."
And that was that. Gwaine and everybody else were finally able to leave. But not Dante. As she rose to take her leave also, Arthur called her back. It appeared that tradition stated the ruling heads who had governed the petitions - in this instance himself, Gwen and Dante - had to convene to discuss the outcomes of the petitions.
Dante groaned, giving Gwaine a quick sign to say that this may take a while, and he sighed, leaving the room dejectedly.
Arthur, meanwhile, hadn't noticed this brief display and issued his wife and First Lady into an adjoining room, with a table, stacks of parchment and several comfy looking seats. Candles lined the walls and a fire blazed merrily in the hearth.
As soon as the door was closed, he sighed. "Well that was hard work."
"They don't usually last that long then?" Dante asked, trying to force herself to sound interested. But her words were rushed. She was dying to get back to Gwaine.
"Not really. I'm sorry I kept you for so long."
"Not at all." She glanced impatiently at the door.
"Am I keeping you from something? You seem in a bit of a hurry?"
"No, no...I'm just tired."
"Really? It's only midday. And you look kind of hyped," he noted. Why did this have to be the one time Arthur decided to pay particular attention?
"Do I?" was all she could manage in response. "Must be the sun. I've gotten so used to snow, I'd forgotten what the sun felt like."
"I know that feeling," he agreed.
"Mmmm," she nodded, trying to keep still and not fidget. "I don't like the cold."
"Really? I hear Essetir's much colder than Camelot."
"It is," she admitted with a grin. "That's why I don't like it."
Arthur laughed, before Gwen finally cleared her throat.
"Arthur, let the poor girl go back to bed. She must be shattered. She's still not fully recovered, after all."
"Ah yes, I keep forgetting," he nodded. "Very well, this meeting can keep. It's of no great importance anyway. You were there for the decisions, so I don't really need to go over what was said."
"So that's it? I can go?" she asked hopefully.
"Of course. I'll walk you back to your room, if you'd like?"
"Oh there's no need," she insisted quickly, standing up from her chair.
"No it's alright," he nodded. "I can fill you in on a few things on the way."
Dante held back a groan of frustration, forced a smile and nodded. "Then I'd be delighted, Sire."
So Arthur escorted her back to her rooms and she had to work hard to make her tread slow and tired as she walked. He rambled on about politics and laws and the outcomes of the petitions from that morning, and she nodded, hoping she was nodding in the right places, even though she wasn't actually paying attention at all. She was scanning their surroundings, looking for a familiar figure.
Saying goodbye to him, she closed the door, waited until his footsteps had died away, then turned and scanned the darkened room.
"Gwaine?" She whispered, feeling completely idiotic, as she highly doubted he would be there.
She was right. Groaning aloud and cursing their stupid idea to keep it a secret, she kicked out at the nearby table, catching it with her toe. Then she began to hop about, cursing out loud until Kahlee came running in, looking flustered.
"What is it, Milady? I didn't hear you return! I was just making your bed and - Is everything alright?"
"No it's not!" Dante growled. "Why is nothing ever simple?"
"Anything I may help with, Milady?" Kahlee offered, startled by this outburst.
"Unless you can tell me where I can find Sir Bloody Gwaine, then no, there's nothing you can do right now, Kahlee, except leave me alone!"
"Well it's a good job I know where to find him then, Milady," Kahlee grinned. Dante stopped cursing and froze, her pained foot still hanging in the air slightly. Then she frowned.
"So? Where IS he?"
"Well, officially, Sir Gwaine is extremely busy," the maid said, calmly, as if reciting from memory. "He has been sequestered all day in the Knight's barracks, reviewing the new security measures, drawing up rotas and timetables for patrols, as well as training routines for the new recruits and - "
"Oh brilliant!" Dante snapped. "So he's not free after all. The lying toad! Wait till I get my hands on - wait," her outburst was cut short as Kahlee's words registered. She blinked. "Did you say officially?"
"Yes Milady," Kahlee replied, with a nod. "That is my official answer to all queries regarding Sir Gwaine's whereabouts. All afternoon."
Dante smiled as realisation dawned. "And unofficially?"
The maid leaned closer, with an exaggeratedly conspiratorial whisper. "Unofficially, he's waiting outside the city, with two horses and a picnic."
It felt like being struck by lightning. But in a good way. In the best of ways. Kahlee again leaned in conspiratorially. "He thought it best to avoid a...ah... public scene. And he wished for me to relate to you that he believes the both of you might...avoid a public scene...all afternoon. And perhaps all night as well."
"Kahlee!" Dante blinked at her handmaiden, suddenly feeling an irrational desire to giggle. "What exactly are you suggesting?"
"I'm sure I couldn't say, Milady," Kahlee shrugged, a picture of innocence. "I am only performing as per Sir Gwaine's instructions."
"You - " Dante shook her head in wonder while her smile grew to a grin she thought might split her cheeks. "You are amazing, Kahlee. Have I ever told you that?"
"Not enough," she shrugged, and Dante laughed again, giving her a quick hug.
"I'm sorry. I should say it more. Because you are amazing."
"It's alright, Milady. You say things best when you don't say them at all, I've noticed. Now get going, before Gwaine grows bored of waiting."
Dante hurried eagerly to the door, but paused before she opened it. "You know it's a secret, right? Me and Gwaine...we don't want anyone to know just yet."
"I know, Milady. And I understand," Kahlee assured her. "Your secret's safe with me."
"Then you're a star."
Kahlee grinned at her. "I'm sorry? What was that? Could you speak up a little?"
"Yeah alright, don't gloat."
"I'm not gloating, Milady. I'm just...savouring the moment."