The hands that made it
Gwen recognized the sword immediately, though she had not seen it in a long time. How can she forget it since she knew the hands that made it so well? She remembered the nights after her father crafted it, the satisfied gleam in his eyes, the way he would spuriously pick it up, testing its balance with a swipe and a laugh. Oh, how she knew that workmanship, even when it was leagues above his average craftsmanship.
It had been a long time since she had seen it… forever hadn't it been? Another lifetime? She was so young then, back when she had been serving a happier Morgana and Uther had still been ruling in strength. Back when she had a little bit of a crush on Merlin, before she fell in love with Arthur. In fact, it had been Merlin who'd asked for it, who'd last had it…
"Gwen"
Guinevere looked up to see Arthur glancing between her and the sword held up in his palms.
"Isn't it amazing?" Arthur shifted his grip, and gave the sword a twirl, admiring it with a laugh. "I've never seen a sword like it."
Gwen had another moment of deja vu, though it wasn't quite the same sword.
"What is written on it?" Gwen asked.
Arthur held up the sword again, "I have no idea, really. Old fashioned gibberish, but it doesn't stop the sword from being bloody brilliant. And it was just in that stone in the forest, lying there for who knows how long!"
Gwen looked again at the sword. It was decidedly different. Decidely. There was an unworldliness to the gold on the blade; it looked like it had been burnished differently. But looking at the hilt. No. It was her father's sword.
But who's hands had changed it so?
"It's lovely. I'm sure there's nothing better for hacking people up. Do you know where Merlin is?" Gwen asked.
"I believe he's still with the horses" Arthur replied, eyes back on the sword, starting in on a parry drill.
"Thanks," Gwen gave a smile and curtsy, "I'll be back in a bit."
In the mean while she had some questions for Merlin...
It had been a long time since she had seen it… forever hadn't it been? Another lifetime? She was so young then, back when she had been serving a happier Morgana and Uther had still been ruling in strength. Back when she had a little bit of a crush on Merlin, before she fell in love with Arthur. In fact, it had been Merlin who'd asked for it, who'd last had it…
"Gwen"
Guinevere looked up to see Arthur glancing between her and the sword held up in his palms.
"Isn't it amazing?" Arthur shifted his grip, and gave the sword a twirl, admiring it with a laugh. "I've never seen a sword like it."
Gwen had another moment of deja vu, though it wasn't quite the same sword.
"What is written on it?" Gwen asked.
Arthur held up the sword again, "I have no idea, really. Old fashioned gibberish, but it doesn't stop the sword from being bloody brilliant. And it was just in that stone in the forest, lying there for who knows how long!"
Gwen looked again at the sword. It was decidedly different. Decidely. There was an unworldliness to the gold on the blade; it looked like it had been burnished differently. But looking at the hilt. No. It was her father's sword.
But who's hands had changed it so?
"It's lovely. I'm sure there's nothing better for hacking people up. Do you know where Merlin is?" Gwen asked.
"I believe he's still with the horses" Arthur replied, eyes back on the sword, starting in on a parry drill.
"Thanks," Gwen gave a smile and curtsy, "I'll be back in a bit."
In the mean while she had some questions for Merlin...