Author Note: Hey everyone! Here's another quick author note for you all, lol. All I want to say, basically is 1. Thank you everyone for the reviews, they are fab, as always, and I love reading your thoughts and ideas. And 2. Please bare with me towards the middle of this chapter. Trying to describe what it feels like to run is NOT easy, lol...so I've given it my best shot, based on how I feel when I run. So yeah, if it doesn't exactly make sense, then I'm sorry.
Also, the part about the round table, I have only guessed at, based on pictures I've seen from what has so far been released of the Series 5 pics, so if it turns out to be wrong in the end...well, who cares, lol. It's a story, and I'm allowed poetic licence, hehe...or is it artistic licence? I can never remember which one it is for writing? And as everyone knows that Arthur has his Knights of the Round Table, it's not exactly a spoiler, so you don't need to worry, hehe.
Anyways enough of my rambling...review and enjoy as always :D
...
She'd been staring at him all afternoon and STILL couldn't take her eyes off him. The pair of them were sitting in a small meadow of new grass that had been revealed as the snow slowly melted away. Beside them was a lake, and above them, the canopy of trees parted just enough to let in a few gentle streams of sunshine.
Dante and Gwaine were now basking in this sunlight whilst their horses grazed contentedly nearby. It was a beautiful day, and after meeting up with Gwaine outside the city gates, they'd ridden for most of the afternoon, before he'd finally announced that they were in the 'perfect' spot, and had laid down a blanket and the small pack he'd strapped to the back of his saddle. Inside, there was everything you could possibly need for a picnic, including sandwiches, fresh fruit, cheese, cold meats and even a bottle of wine with two glasses.
He'd told her that he'd already had the picnic packed and ready since his patrol that morning, where he'd spotted this place and known straight away that it would be the perfect spot to bring her. But he'd worried that Arthur may spoil the day by holding her in 'political talks' all afternoon and all evening too. Still, he didn't need to worry now, because she was all his, and they had forever.
Or until tomorrow morning, at least.
So here they were now, several hours later, the food and drink had gone (save for a few crumbs and crusts of bread) and a peaceful quiet had settled between them.
Lush grasses sprinkled with flowers of all colours and shapes graced the hilly meadow around them, now that the snow had all but vanished, and beyond the meadow's borders, shining waterfalls spilled into the lake. Petals from a nearby cherry blossom floated by on the warm breeze, and puffy clouds drifted across the shining blue sky above. It was a place full of life and full of love, full of warmth and full of softness.
To Dante Quincailan, it was a place perfectly reflective of Gwaine Keincaled.
Gringolet and Vixen grazed contentedly nearby, seemingly oblivious to the couple as they searched for the juiciest patches of grass around the lake, and insects buzzed about in the air, too busy with the flowers to take any time to bother them, either.
Gwaine was lying on his back, one arm folded casually behind his head, his eyes closed and his breathing measured and even. Dante wasn't sure if he was asleep, or just very relaxed, but she decided not to disturb him, either way.
Instead, she sat next to him, absently picking flowers, bringing them up to deeply inhale their sweet scents, then sitting them on the blanket by her side so that she could keep them and take them back to her room later.
Every so often, she'd glance over at Gwaine, but only briefly, almost afraid to let him notice, even though his eyes were closed. He was thoroughly enjoying this sunshine, and had stripped off every layer on the upper half of his body, so that now he lay bare chested, soaking up the sun's rays. As he breathed, the muscles across his abdomen danced and rippled smoothly, and although Dante was enjoying the afternoon sun, and would have liked to lie back, as he did, and let the sun warm her face, she stayed curled up, her chin resting on her knees instead, unwilling to take her eyes off him. The wind was gentle – it tangled her hair and ruffled the grass that swayed around them.
Hesitantly, always afraid, even now, that he would disappear like a mirage, too beautiful to be real...hesitantly, she reached out one finger and stroked the back of his hand, where it lay within her reach. She marvelled at how rough and calloused it was, and yet he was able to be so gentle and tender with her that it seemed almost impossible. When she looked up again, his eyes were open, watching her, and his quick smile turned up the corners of his lips.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispered. "I can see it in your eyes. You're trying to work something out. What has you so puzzled?"
"It's just something Kahlee said to me earlier," she shrugged eventually, tracing patterns across the back of his hand lightly.
"Kahlee? Your maid?"
So quickly that she missed his movement, he was half sitting, propped up on his right arm, his left palm still in her hands. His face was only a few inches away from hers and she should have flinched away from his unexpected closeness, but suddenly found she was unable to move. His mahogany eyes mesmerized her.
"Yeah," she said eventually, forcing herself to speak once more. "She said that I tend to say things best when I DON'T say them. I'm trying to work out if that's a good thing."
His answering smile was dazzling.
"Of course it's a good thing. And I agree with her."
"It's a good thing?" she frowned.
"It's easy for someone to say something," he shrugged, in explanation. "For example, I could say that I'm a rabbit. Just because I've said it, doesn't mean it's true. But when you don't say something - when you SHOW it instead...that has meaning. So much more meaning than words ever could."
"I never thought of it like that," she replied, surprised. "And yet now that I do, it makes perfect sense."
"You think too much about everything," he scolded playfully, lifting his other hand and ruffling her hair. A shock ran through her body at his casual touch.
"Well I have to, because you never think at all," she retorted, equally as playfully, and he ruffled her hair again, causing her to squirm and giggle.
"It's true what she says though," he said again after a moment - clearly he'd been considering, and had finally come to some sort of conclusion.
"Define," Dante said, though not in a demanding or unkind way - her tone was more curious than anything else, and he smiled.
"Well, the smile on your face lets me know that you need me," He said gently, reaching up to trace across her lips with one finger of his free hand. "There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me." His fingers moved ever so carefully to stroke beneath one eye. "The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall." Now his hand moved down to sandwich hers between both of his. "So you see, Kahlee's right. You DO say it best, when you say nothing at all."
"Oh," was all she managed to say then, too mesmerised was she in his touch, and his words. Frozen in place, almost afraid to move and spoil the moment. And then he reached up and ruffled her hair yet again, breaking her from her trance.
She laughed and attempted to once again straighten her hair and he appeared to study her - almost like he was seeing her for the first time.
"You are incredibly beautiful, you know?" he said after a while, allowing his hand to drop back to his side again.
"Yeah right," she laughed incredulously, thinking that he was joking, or making fun of her.
"No really, I mean it," he insisted earnestly. "And the sun is especially kind to you. The way your cheeks colour when you blush, the way your hair lightens when the sun hits it just right, the flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretences...the sparkle of your eyelids – like you're wearing a very delicate and glittery eye shadow..."
"My eyelids sparkle?" she asked, surprised, raising a finger to tenderly probe one eye, as if expecting to feel something there.
"Like the stars," he smiled one of his dreamy smiles. "But only in the sun. And only since you started wearing my ring."
"The ring makes me sparkle?" She frowned, looking down and examining Gwaine's impromptu engagement ring on her finger.
"Must be the magic in it. Your scar sparkles too. But it's not glaringly obvious. You have to look closely to see anything. It's gentle. Like a finishing touch." Then as an afterthought he added, "You should walk in the sun more often. You're far too pale, even for a noble."
"I'm not pale," she protested. "I glow in the dark!"
Again, he had to laugh out loud. Their eyes met and she laughed too. And finally, she allowed herself to lay back in the grass, staring up at him, their roles now reversed with him sitting over her, staring at her.
"Remind me again why I have to keep you a secret?" she asked eventually, resting one hand behind her head, the other still holding lightly on to his.
His smile faded. "You know why."
"No, I mean why can't people know that we are in love?" She reiterated, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. "They must have suspected it for a while now. I mean, we were engaged at one point, and you blatantly defied the King, just to save my life. If that's not shouting out that we're in love, then short of hanging a banner across the Citadel announcing it to the world...well...even a blind man could see the way we feel about one another. Why deny it?"
"Dante, we've been through this already," he sighed, placing his hand gently on the side of her face. "I love you," he said. "But I will not have my love ruined by the rumours and lies that will undoubtedly spread when people assume that I am with you for your status and your power."
She wanted to protest. She wanted to deny his words. But she couldn't. Because deep down she knew that he was right.
He said nothing further about it then, letting the subject drop. Instead he smiled gently, brushing the back of his hand across her cheek. Then, very slowly he leaned down towards her, adjusting his pose so that now he was lying beside her, propped up on one elbow, his other hand still resting on her cheek. She was quite unable to move, even if she'd wanted to.
"Why can't we just stay here forever?" she asked quietly, still gazing up at him as he shifted slightly, blocking the sun from her face so that she didn't have to squint.
"Duty calls," he sighed. "But not until tomorrow morning. We have all evening, my love. And all night as well...if you'd like?"
They stared at each other for a moment, before Dante smiled up at him, giving all the confirmation he needed. He mirrored her smile and laid back down again. This time it was Dante's turn to move as she laid her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
And they lay like that for what felt like an eternity, Dante wondering if Gwaine was as unwilling to move as she was. But all too soon, she could see the light was fading, the shadows of the forest beginning to touch them, and she sighed.
"We should be getting back," he spoke, and she could hear his voice reverberating deep down in his chest. It was odd, but at the same time deeply comforting.
"Oh, so you're a mind reader now?" she teased, reluctant to get up.
"Sometimes." Now she could hear the smile in his voice.
Eventually he let her go and stood. Before she'd even realised what was happening, he'd packed away the picnic things and was standing over her, satchel hanging from the crook of one elbow, his other hand extended towards her. She took it and allowed him to pull her gently to her feet.
"So," he asked casually as they started to walk back in the direction of the Citadel, hand in hand - Vixen and Gringolet meandering along leisurely behind, prompted by a soft whistle from Gwaine. "Are you still as fast as I remember? Or have you gotten slow in your old age?"
"In my old age?" Dante repeated, feigning insult. "You could never catch me when we were younger, and I bet you still couldn't catch me now!"
"Prove it," he dared, and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. "I'll give you a race, if you like?"
"I don't think so," she retorted. "Not very ladylike."
"Only because you're afraid of being beaten."
"Ha! Only in your deluded dreams!" She backtracked a few steps so that she was in line with him. "Very well, Keincaled! But if this goes badly, I'm holding you personally responsible...twice!"
"Duly noted," he grinned. They stood there for several tense seconds as Gwaine tied the satchel back onto Gringolet's saddle, whilst Dante tried to psych herself up, even though she knew she was doomed to lose, before she'd even begun. Because Gwaine was right. She had gotten slow. She was out of shape and out of practice, and she honestly could not remember the last time she'd run...well, not unless you counted the time Lot had set his dogs upon her. But then she'd been scrambling and clawing her way up embankments, over hills, through valleys...it hadn't been running so much as surviving.
Still, never one to refuse a challenge, she rose onto the balls of her feet, bobbing up and down slightly, her fists clenching and unclenching in anticipation, ready to explode forwards when Gwaine gave the signal. He eyed her with great amusement for several seconds longer, before suddenly shouting "Go!"
He leapt forwards, Gringolet and Vixen blurred past at an easy gallop, and Dante tried to keep up, but her feet slipped in the leaves and dirt, her foot hit a rock and she could feel herself falling, knowing it was all going to end in the disaster she had been dreading. Gwaine was already streaking ahead, almost out of sight amongst the trees. Her heart leaped as she fell...
And the world appeared to snap around her.
Her other foot landed squarely on top of a rock she hadn't even known was there, and her whole body woke up, tingling all over. Adrenaline flooded her like the heat of alcohol on an empty stomach. It burst through her, and the jewellery she was wearing - Morgana's pendant, Hunith's necklace and Gwaine's ring - all dilated to points of heat, as if they were melting against her skin.
And then she realised that this was like nothing she'd ever felt before. There was just her and the sound of the wind in her ears mixing with the pounding of her pulse. As adrenaline fully kicked in, she found that all of a sudden she was no longer thinking. Her body was doing all the thinking for her, leaping like a gazelle over fallen logs, ducking under low branches and sailing across the leaf littered forest floor as she danced between the trees.
And the one thought on her mind was please don't let this stop! Let me keep going!
To her side, a pale shape blurred in a very distorted outline, unfocussed because of the speed. It took her a moment to realise it must be Gwaine, and then she was wondering if he'd dropped back to give her a chance, or if she'd actually somehow miraculously managed to catch him on her own.
And then the world faded around her and there was just movement, force and reaction spilling through her arms and legs, hands like birds, feet like a horse's hooves.
Coming out of the forest, they crested a hill, and the world was spinning under her. She didn't have to move forward, just put her feet down every now and again to touch it. A fierce joy flushed through her and she pushed even harder.
Eventually, however, the force bled away and it got harder and harder to keep up with the world. She pushed herself harder and harder, but eventually the world snapped back to normal, the shapes unblurred around her and she saw that she'd reached the last hill before the city gates. And there, waiting patiently at the bottom of the hill, a few metres away, was Gwaine, standing with Gringolet and Vixen, and looking extremely impressed.
Her legs buckled and she landed hard on her knees, jarring them sharply. But she didn't notice through the retching. Gwaine walked over to her and knelt beside her, patting her back sympathetically. He was hardly out of breath at all – the git!
Her legs were on fire. All of her was hurting and her back was a solid bar of pain. But it didn't matter. What mattered was Gwaine beside her, rubbing her back and laughing more than she'd ever heard him laugh before.
"Well. You kept up," he congratulated. "I guess I was wrong about you, after all."
She eventually managed to get some breath back. "When...can we...do that...again?"
At that, his laughter only increased, even as she retched some more. But the merriment cancelled out the pain, and it didn't matter how much it hurt, or how her heart felt like it was trying to climb out of her throat. All that mattered was Gwaine beside her, making small circles on her back, his face alight.
"How do you feel?" he asked after a moment, when she'd finally stopped retching.
She couldn't be sure how she felt when her head was spinning so crazily. "Dizzy...I think..." she managed to choke out, eventually, her chest still heaving from the exertion.
"Put your head between your knees."
She tried that, and it helped a little. She was able to breathe again, at least. He continued to rub her back gently until finally, she found she was once more able to raise her head. There was a hollow ringing sound in her ears, so she closed her eyes until it had subsided.
"I was thinking, while I was running," he mused as he sat beside her.
"About?" She gasped, still fighting to get her breathing back to normal.
He took her face very gently in his hands. "About us. And how much I want to do this."
For the second time in as many minutes, she couldn't breathe.
He hesitated, then leaned forward slowly, his lips pressing very gently against hers. She returned the kiss eagerly, despite how out of breath she still was. And then they parted as finally, she just had to resurface for air, before she passed out.
As she blinked away the last few moments of dizziness and looked up again, she saw that he was on his feet once more, in one of those lithe, elegant movements so uncharacteristic of a man with his muscular build. He held out his hand to her once more and she took it, needing the support more than she'd first thought. Her balance had not yet returned.
"Are you still faint from the run? Or was it my kissing expertise?" How light-hearted, he seemed as he laughed then, his face untroubled. He was a completely different Gwaine than the one she'd known when she'd first come to Camelot. And she felt all the more besotted by him. It would cause her physical pain to be separated from him now.
"I can't be sure. I'm still woozy," she managed to respond. "I think it's some of both, though."
"My dear little Vixen," he chuckled. Then he glanced towards the Citadel casting its shadows down over them, from the hill above. "We should go back before they lock the doors. We'd have fun explaining THAT, if we got locked out."
"Considering we're both supposed to be inside anyway," she agreed. "But you really should put some clothes on. Otherwise rumours WILL fly, no matter how hard we try to keep this a secret."
"Good point," he acknowledged, casting about suddenly for his clothes. Then he blushed. "Ah."
"You left them in the meadow, didn't you." It was a statement, not a question, but he found himself nodding anyway.
"Quite possibly."
"Then you'd better be careful no-one sees you inside the castle. You'll have to wait till morning to go back for them. It's too dark now."
"I'll be careful," he promised, and she nodded, starting to walk towards the gatehouse leading into the lower town.
"Well, if you're sure you won't get caught...? I'm not getting into trouble. Not even for you."
"I promise, I won't get caught," he assured her, matching her pace perfectly as he strode beside her. With another soft whistle, Gringolet and Vixen came trotting after them like a pair of overgrown dogs. Though, of course, being a horse person, Gwaine held more love for the pair than he'd EVER hold for any kind of dog, and somehow the horses knew it.
...
Despite his promise that nothing was going to happen, however, Gwaine had not bargained on Sir Leon waiting for them at the top of the steps in the courtyard of the Citadel. He came hurrying down as they wandered in, hand in hand.
Seeing him, they immediately let go and stepped apart, moving to take the reins of their respective horses instead, but Leon didn't have time to notice - or if he did, he made no acknowledgement of what he'd seen.
"Milady, Arthur's looking for you! He's had people searching everywhere!"
"Why, what is it? What's happened?" Dante asked, sensing the urgency in Leon's tone, and not liking the sound of it. Something must have happened.
"An emergency meeting has been called. Invaders have taken several kingdoms to the east and a few to the south. They're marching on Camelot, even as we speak."
"What?" Dante and Gwaine gasped in unison. They shared a quick glance and saw clearly the look of concern mirrored in the other's eyes. Then Gwaine reached across and took Vixen's reins.
"Go," he told her softly. "Your services are needed."
"But what about - " she started to protest. Gwaine shook his head.
"I'll see you tonight," he promised her quietly. "Now go. Arthur needs you."
Realising she could waste no more time, and knowing that Leon would get suspicious if she continued talking to Gwaine in hushed tones, she gave up and turned away from Gwaine, forcing herself not to look back as Leon escorted her back into the Citadel, whilst Gwaine headed towards the stables with the two horses.
...
"If you two are going for subtlety and secrecy, you might want to try a little harder," Leon spoke quietly as the pair of them wove through the packed corridors and hallways. It seemed that the whole citadel had come alive, all of a sudden, with people rushing here and there in a state of panic. However, seeing the tall knight striding through with his scarlet cape billowing behind him, they quickly moved to get out of his way. Dante had no trouble striding by his side.
"You won't say anything, will you?" she asked worriedly. "We thought it would be best that people didn't know just yet, in case they thought Gwaine was only with me for my new power and status."
"My lips are sealed," Leon assured her as he turned down a side hallway that was surprisingly deserted. "Though by the sounds of it, this will soon be the least of anyone's worries."
"Is it really that bad?"
"I don't know. Arthur refused to get the meeting underway until you were present," Leon admitted, holding a door open for her. Dante stepped through and found herself in the throne room. This startled her a bit, as she had never known about this entrance until now, but then she decided it was hardly the time to complain to Leon, as all eyes turned in her general direction.
The first thing she noticed about the room was that the usually empty expanse that took up most of the room was now filled with a round table, made of solid polished oak and adorned in the centre with the golden Pendragon sigil. It was large enough to seat twenty people comfortably, at least, and these seats were already filled by the various heads of the kingdoms surrounding Camelot including, Dante was horrified to see, King Lot.
"What is HE doing here?" She growled, completely forgetting her manners, or the fact that there were currently five Kings and three Queens in the room with her.
Arthur cleared his throat and stood. "Lords and Ladies, may I present to you Dante Quincailan, First Lady of the Court of Camelot."
Her manners finally catching up with her mouth, Dante blushed and offered a curtsey to the entire table.
A mature looking woman with ginger hair began to laugh, as did the young brunette woman next to her.
"Someone else who shares our dislike of our neighbour from Essetir," she chuckled.
"With good reason, Majesty," Dante replied, forcing herself to remain polite, even though she had no idea who she was talking to. "You know he's in league with Morgana?"
And that's the pot calling the kettle black! She thought wryly. Though she kept that particular thought to herself, somehow, even though apparently her mouth was currently functioning of its own accord, completely separate to her brain.
"On the contrary," Lot snarled, glaring at her, clearly thinking along the same lines. "I was merely using Morgana for my own ends. Now I find myself no longer in need of her services."
"That's not what it looked like in Ealdor!"
"Yes, we've heard all about your little 'disagreement' in Ealdor," the mature woman nodded, glaring at Lot. "Still, he has promised us all that he is on his best behaviour..."
"And I mean it, Annis," Lot replied in his usual deep, throaty growl, playing the perfect gentleman - to Dante's disgust. He had creep written all over him, and she was sorely tempted to pull a dagger and slit his throat there and then. But reminding herself that this was neither the time, nor the place, she turned to the woman instead. He'd called her Annis. Was this who she was thinking it could well be?
"Queen Annis?" She ventured cautiously. The woman smiled and stood, nodding her head.
"Annis, Queen of Caerleon and ally to Arthur Pendragon," she spoke confidently, offering Arthur a pleasant smile that suggested to Dante there was some history between them. And Dante knew there was. She also knew that Morgana had tried to meddle in their affairs, and failed.
Then as she sat back down again, the young woman to her left stood up. "Mithian, Princess of Nemeth and ally to Arthur Pendragon." Again, Dante knew the history between Mithian and Arthur - though only Morgana's version, where she turned Gwen into a deer and Mithian shot her with an arrow. The fact that she and Gwen were currently sitting side by side, however, told Dante that Gwen had forgiven the unknowing Princess and felt no hard feelings towards her. Either that, or she was just putting on a brave face for the rest of the assembled group. And if Mithian felt any jealousy or resentment to the former serving girl, she was doing a good job of hiding it, too.
To Gwen's right was Arthur, and then next to him an older man with a bushy beard and keen eyes. He stood as Mithian sat down, and bowed his head to Dante.
"Bayard, King of Mercia. A pleasure to meet you, Your Ladyship." Dante returned a bow of her own, remembering the stories she had heard of Bayard. This time it had not been Morgana who had meddled in his affairs, but rather Nimueh, one of Morgana's predecessors of the Old Religion.
The man beside him rose, too. "Odin, King of Bernicia."
Dante frowned without meaning to. Odin and Arthur were supposedly sworn enemies, weren't they? And yet here they were now, on civilised terms. Things must be bad if Arthur was prepared to put aside his quarrels with both Lot AND Odin, in light of a common goal. And for them to agree to work with him, also...well, that was just as unexpected!
Beside Odin was Lot, who didn't even bother to stand and introduce himself, and then beside Lot was another dark haired man whom she did not recognize. He rose gracefully and bowed his head to her, though he kept his keen, dark eyes upon her at all times.
"Mark, King of Cornwall," he announced in a velvet voice that sent a shiver down her spine. Mark was the only one who sat at this round table who she knew nothing about, and she was not sure if this was a good thing or not. And not only that, but Cornwall was a long way from Camelot. The others hadn't had to travel much more than a few days at most to get here. Mark would have had to travel for a few weeks, at least. Things must be REALLY bad then.
"A pleasure to meet you all," she smiled, fighting back her nerves once again. What a time for them to attack! Seeing her uneasiness, Arthur stood.
"Here, take a seat, Dante. Join us."
Before she could protest, however, Lot beat her to it. With a snort of amusement, he glanced at Dante, then said aloud to the room, "The girl was my slave for eight years, Arthur! Let her stand for a few hours. It won't kill her!"
Well, at least he'd remembered her cover story then. That was good, even if he had tried to kill her.
"May I have permission to punch him, Sire?" She asked Arthur, causing a roar of laughter from the room's other occupants. And it was only then that she noticed those sat at the round table were not the only occupants of the room. All around the outside, standing or sitting in seats against the walls were several Lords, Ladies, Knights, Council members and servants alike.
"Oh Arthur, I like her!" Annis chuckled as Dante moved over to Merlin, Kahlee and Tamina.
"I'll stand over here," she mouthed to Arthur as the laughter continued.
"Nobles are over there, Milady," Merlin muttered into her ear, nodding to the other side of the room, where indeed, the nobles were standing. But Dante shrugged.
"They may well be. But my friends are over here."
Merlin grinned, as did Kahlee and Tamina, and after settling back against the wall, arms folded across her chest in a very unladylike manner, Dante nodded at Arthur. Apparently this had been the signal he'd been patiently waiting for, because finally he started the meeting.