las challenge 7 voting

[robinmarian]

LAS Challenge Seven Voting

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Voting closes Wednesday, April 6, 2011 @ 11:59 PM Eastern Standard Time (World Clock)

#1. All of Us Like Stairs (G, 1925 words)

All of us like stairs, one step after another. Going up, going down, but always going the same way.

*

Oh, glorious day. The evil forces of the Saxons were defeated soundly by the great King Arthur and his mighty Knights of the Round Table. Heads were lopped off. Limbs were hewn. Much blood stained the green plains of Mount Badon.

Yet Camelot would reign triumphant, thanks to the noble and fearsome King and the powerful sorcerer Merlin. With a passionate goodbye from his delicate lady -

*

“That's not how it goes.”

“That's not how what goes?”

“That last part. The part about Mother.”

“I beg your pardon, who's telling this story?”

“You are.”

“Well, can I - the storyteller - mind you, finish?”

“ . . . Okay.”

“Ahem, where was I?”

*

Oh, yes. With a passionate goodbye from his delicate lady, the King took up his sword and glared down the field of battle towards his enemies. “You are no match for me!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the plains.

And then he got to work and killed them all.

*

“Wicked!”

“Wow!”

“That's boring!” sighs Yseult, even as Llacheu and Duran bounce up and down in bed, cheering at their father's tale. “You left out everything. Mother, tell him. Tell them!”

Guinevere, from her seat on the chaise by Yseult's bed, doesn't look up from the copy of a treaty on her lap, though Yseult can clearly see the bemused smile barely gracing the warm line of her mouth. “I think you may have left out a few details,” she says, idly.

“What?” Arthur says, wrestling with the boys. He's got Llacheu hanging upside by his waist - Duran's on his shoulders, trying to give him noogies, and both children are shrieking with laughter. “I gave them the pertinent facts!”

“No you didn't!” Yseult splutters, as if confronted with the world's worst injustice. Why her mother can sit there so calmly and not rail against Father is beyond her at the moment. “What about the part where Mother followed Morgause dressed as a stableboy, and found her hide-out? What about the part where she found out how to rescue Merlin? What about the part where she jumped on the nearest haycart she could find, because there were no more horses since they were all being sent to Badon for war, and she traveled for a full day to find you? What about the part where because she heard Morgause's plans, she was able to tell you and the Knights and you were ready for her sneak attack and then you all went to rescue Merlin as soon as you could? Huh?”

“COCKATRICE BREATH!” Llacheu howls at Duran, pinching his sides.

“Dung-for-brains!” Duran screams back, trying to wriggle down from Arthur's shoulders to punch his older brother. Arthur yelps at them both to calm down, but otherwise, all three ignore Yseult's protests.

“Mother.”

“Yseult.” Sighing, Gwen sets down the scroll and beckons to her daughter with a finger. Angry, Yseult clambers out of Llacheu's bed and pads over quickly on bare feet. Gwen opens up the blanket she had draped over her shoulders, and makes sure the folds are tightly tucked around her middle child and herself. Yseult yawns sleepily, half of her fury already dissipating within the comfort of her mother's loving embrace. “It's just a story. Pay no heed.”

“But it's wrong,” she says, with childish resolve. “He should tell it the right way.”

“Mmm, yes, of course he should, but there's no harm in embellishment here and there,” Gwen says, shrugging. “There are always variations, truths and untruths, told about people like us. It is always so, will always be so. There is no need to be so angry about such trivial things. I did not look for honor or glory in doing what I did - just what was right. Besides,” she adds, with a wink, “he is not exactly wrong. I did hug him, for good-bye and good luck, before the battle.”

Yseult yawns again. “Still . . .” she murmurs, nearly asleep. “It's not fair.”

“No, it isn't,” Gwen agrees, sensibly. “But many things aren't.” She shrugs again, then says, with a sly smile, “Maybe one day, people will tell stories about you, and you can set them straight.”

Yseult's eyes pop open in surprise, then she scrunches her nose up disdainfully. “Everybody won't dare to say aught about me!” she declares.

Gwen laughs, kisses the ruched flesh of her daughter's nose, and tickles her. “Well, I tremble mightily,” she says.

*

The sea, the sea!

Yseult closes her eyes. She's always loved the sea. The salt spray, the wind, the sun beating upon her face - yes, she loves the sea, because on the other side of the grey line is . . .

Home.

Home, to Camelot, for she's been away for a miserable two years, stuck in Eire with Llacheu. He'd been assigned there by Father as leader of their outpost, a practice, of sorts, to be King - which he'd taken very seriously, and with far too much gravity, in Yseult's opinion. She'd come two years ago as well, because in Mother's opinion she needed the experience away from Camelot's court life. And the entire time she would always be longing to return home, always taking the first opportunity for visits to travel back to the beloved walls of their castle.

But no - now, to come back home, under such circumstances . . .

Yseult swallows, not daring to look over her shoulder, even as the ship docks. Llacheu helps her onto her horse and sees to the preparations and soon they are off, on the road to Camelot. And still she does not look back, to the pair of eyes she knows is watching her.

The ride feels like it takes days, when in reality it's only a few hours. She's never been more relieved to see her parents come down the steps. “You need to eat, love,” Gwen tuts, taking her hand and leading her out of the courtyard. “I know it's nerve-wracking, with your wedding day coming so soon -”

Yseult stiffens. Unbidden, she glances back. He's definitely looking at her, face grey and eyes tortured.

“No, no, I'm fine. I just need some rest, Mother. Father,” she says, as Arthur comes up to give her hug in greeting, having finished speaking with Llacheu. “It is good to see you.” She kisses his cheek and before he can say anything, picks up her skirts and fairly flies to her old bedchambers.

*

It doesn't take very long. Yseult buries her face deeper in the pillow when she hears the door crack open, and then the familiar tread of boots upon worn stones. Father, then.

He takes a seat on the bed next to her, then gently threads his fingers through her mass of brown curls. “You know,” he says, quietly, “you don't have to do this.”

“Do what?” she murmurs, muffled.

“Marry Lord Marke if your heart's somewhere else.”

Yseult sits up, shocked. “How did you know?” she asks, wiping at her eyes.

Arthur shrugs. “Oh, let's just say I have some experience in these matters,” he says, cryptically. But then he sobers. “Llacheu. He had a feeling. Said he knew the second Sir Drustan laid his eyes on you.” Yseult, flustered, glances away. “Look, I was surprised just as any when Marke asked for your hand. You've only met him what - three or four times? I only said yes if you wished it so, and when you said you did, I was content. He's a good man and he's a good ally. But if you don't want to go through with it, then you don't have to. You can still back out of it. It's not too late.”

“But what will people say?” Yseult murmurs, rubbing her eyes. “They - they'll make up all manner of things. I did like Lord Marke - I still do like him! But then - I mean . . . they'll poke fun, they'll call me names, they'll just -” She shudders.

When she looks up, she sees her father looking down at her with disappointment, and she finds her heart curdling with shame. “That shouldn't concern you,” he says, with quiet authority.

“That's easy for you to say,” Yseult mutters, resentful. “No one talks ill of you, or Uncle Merlin, or Llacheu or Duran. But Mother? Morgana? Grandmother? Do you hear what they say about them?”

Arthur sighs, stands from the bed and crosses his arms over his chest. “All the time,” he says, patiently. “And it's not right. I have no answer for that, only that your mother has borne it with a grace that few could muster, and many have not. I just ask that you make the right decision, for yourself.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. “I'll see you at dinner, love.”

*

“This will end very badly,” Guinevere frets, through the side of her mouth.

“Yes,” Arthur agrees. They watch as Yseult and Marke take another turn around the hall, their daughter's long bridal veil trailing in a floating wisp around her, over the silken, dark emerald train of her skirts. Heads turn to look at the newly married couple - applause rings through the hall, though one young knight, sitting in the corner table, is slow to clap. Yseult, to her credit, does not glance his way.

Gwen sighs, reaches under the table for her husband's hand. The night before, Yseult had come to them, and said, with a false smile, that she had made her decision, and she would wed Marke as planned. “It is the right one,” she had said, with calm conviction, and no amount of persuasion - no amount of assurance that they would love her even if she refused him - could sway her. Arthur had even offered to speak with Marke himself, but Yseult would not hear of it. “He's a good man, he would be a great ally for Camelot. Whatever's left is up for destiny to decide,” she'd said, resolute.

And no amount of whispered poison could be ever said of you, Gwen had silently thought, trading glances with an equally troubled Arthur.

She watches Marke lean in and say something to Yseult, whose smile is like glass. Gwen glances back at the table of knights - Sir Drustan is just concentrating on his wine goblet, but his stooped posture says everything. Gwen bites her lip and feels Arthur squeeze her fingers. They look at each other - he gives her a tight smile, and says, “Maybe we are being too worrisome. Perhaps all will be well.”

“Yes,” Gwen says, though she remains unconvinced. She looks back to their daughter and frowns. There are moments when she can clearly see the resemblance between Yseult and herself - the curly hair, the dusky skin, and the tiny stature. But in moments like these? Her brittle eyes, the hard rouged mouth and wan face, made more despondent-looking by her green dress?

No, Yseult reminds her of an entirely different woman, long lost to them.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
__

#2. A New Dawn (PG, 1995 words)

Camelot was starting to fall apart.

After only a few months after Morgana’s disappearance and Prince Arthur’s daring rescue of Camelot and their king, everything was still not back to order. The king was still up in his chambers bedridden. His mind was not the way it used to be and slept most of the days and he was growing more and more ill each day.

Arthur knew he had to take on the duties of Prince and King now. The first order of business was a large kingdom wide memorial service was given in the courtyard for those who were lost during the battle. After that, he started to oversee repairs of the city with his new knights. But still Camelot was weak and Arthur was doing his best to recruit more knights from around the lands.

To add on to everything else, there was still the looming threat of Morgana. Arthur, Merlin, and Guinevere knew they had not seen the last of her and she could strike at any moment. This is what currently plague Arthur’s thoughts as he looked over more plans and paperwork for the rebuild in his chambers.

“Arthur?” he heard Guinevere tentatively call.

Arthur looked up from his papers to see Guinevere peeking through the doorway.

“Come in,” He said laying his pen down.

Guinevere walked in with a tray of food, “You need to eat Arthur, you weren’t down for dinner or lunch today.”

“I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Camelot wasn’t built in a few months, it will take time and you are doing a fine job,” Guinevere soothed him by running a hand up and down his back.

“It’s not just that, I’m worried about my father and Morgana.”

“You can’t keep looking over your shoulder for Morgana. You need to focus on Camelot and it’s people, I know you will be prepared no matter what for her. And have faith in your father, I’m sure he will recover.”

Arthur pulled Guinevere down on his lap and kissed her lightly on the lips, “I’m so glad I have you Guinevere, I fear I would not have survived any of this without you by my side.”

“And the same goes for me. And you need to eat now,” Guinevere order and she kissed him lightly on the lips and got up and left the room.

Just as Arthur started to eat, he heard the warning bell sounded and he jumped from his seat and ran to the hallway where Elyan was running towards him.

“Sire, she’s been sighted! There is also an army marching toward our city walls!”

“Get the men together and ready for a fight, I’ll meet you down there soon.”

Arthur rushed back into his chambers and started to get dressed when Merlin came barging in.

“Morgana’s here!”

“I’ve heard Merlin, thank you,” Arthur said irritated.

“No, I mean she’s actually in Camelot. She wishes to see you in the Great Hall,” Merlin said.

“How did she…never mind, help me finish changing.”

Merlin helped Arthur finish getting his armor on and then followed him down into the Great Hall.

Arthur entered and saw Morgana standing in the middle of the hall with Morgause and Mordred by her sides.

“Mordred?” Arthur questioned remembering the young boys name.

“Yes, he’s become like a son to me, since my only true family is with those that practice magic and are faithful to the old religion,” Morgana said glancing towards Merlin on the last part.

Arthur looked to Merlin confused and then back at Morgana.

“What do you want Morgana?”

“I want you to surrender Camelot and the throne to me. Or my army will attack and kill every last person in sight in Camelot, including your loyal knights, your petty servant, your father, and Guinevere, leaving you for last to witness it all.”

“No, if it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you will get. Tomorrow at dawn, just between you and me.”

Morgana looked like she was pondering this proposition and then she smiled.

“Fine, dawn it is.”

She disappeared in a rush of wind with her companions in tow. Arthur stared at the place where she disappeared with a steely expression.

“This will end tomorrow, once and for all,” Arthur commented and he left the great hall and was greeted by Guinevere and his knights outside the door.

She rushed into his arms holding him tight.

“You cannot do this alone,” Guinevere pleaded.

“She’s right sire, I do not think it wise for you to do this alone, you are the heir to the throne,” Sir Leon agreed.

“And I’m the only hope for Camelot, I must do this. To end it,” Arthur replied.

So the following morning, Merlin helped Arthur dress in his chainmail and armor for battle. Guinevere came in soon after Merlin had left, carrying a small plate of food.

“You need to eat,” She commented and Arthur gave a small smile.

“Didn’t we have this discussion last night?”

“You need your strength,” Guinevere commented not returning the smile. Arthur could read the worry and fear on her face. He grabbed her chin and turned her face up towards him. He leaned down and captured her lips in a soft, tender kiss.

“I promise to return back to you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you,” Guinevere whispered back.

“And I love you, I promise, I will be back.”

And with that he left his chambers and headed out to his battle. He walked through the streets of Camelot where his people had gathered to watch him off. And as each person he passed, the people bowed down to him. Some of the other knights were with the people and they bowed down to him as well. As he reached the gate, he heard someone shout “Long Live the King!” and soon it became a thunderous cheering and chanting of “Long Live the King!” from all of the people in Camelot. Arthur, felt a sense of pride, confidence, and new found strength rise up in him and he turned towards the city and raised his sword high in the air and a loud array of applause, cheers, and more chants of “Long Live the King!” greeted him. These were his people and they had faith in him, they believed he would come back and would be their great King someday.

Arthur walked out to the surrounding fields and was greeted by Morgana with Morgause and Mordred again. Her army he had noticed had disappeared. And Arthur stood tall to greet them.

“How sweet that the people of Camelot believe you to be their future king and leader,” Morgana commented.

“That will not be changing today, I assure you,” Arthur replied.

“I thought this was supposed to be a battle between just the two of us?”

Arthur turned around behind him to see Merlin, Guinevere, Gwaine, Sir Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Lancelot coming towards them.

“We are here for support, much how you have Morgause and Mordred for your support Morgana,” Merlin replied.

Morgana scowled at this and then reached out her hand for her sword, “Let’s begin!”

Arthur put on his helmet and unsheathed his sword. Morgana took her helmet from Mordred and put it on and she walked towards Arthur. They both took their positions and she struck the first blow. Arthur blocked it with familiarity, he knew her skills and her weaknesses when it came to fighting. She also knew his, so it was an even playing field. He struck a blow against her and she blocked it skillfully. They parried and fought in circles, until she shoved him to the side, elbowing him hard in the gut, causing him to stumble backwards. Arthur removed his helmet and moved back and struck harder than he ever had before, he had to remember this wasn’t like one of their childhood games or practices from this past, she was fighting hard and dirty against him.

Arthur thought he had the upper hand at one point when he was able to knock Morgana onto the ground causing her helmet to fly off and he had her pinned with his sword at her neck. But she kicked his feet out from under him and he fell to the ground and she quickly got up and swung her sword down at him on the ground. Arthur rolled out of the way and tried to get up but she kicked him back down and he heard the crack of his ribs. He laid there wanting to move against the shooting pain and suddenly her sword was at his neck.

“Do you surrender?” She asked.

“Never!” Arthur said as he kicked her back and she stumbled back.

Morgana growled, getting tired of this game and threw her sword up high and was ready to strike. When she got above Arthur suddenly she was thrown backwards and toppled onto the ground a few feet away. Morgana glared towards Arthur’s party and Arthur turned to look over there. Everyone in his party was starting at Merlin in amazement. Arthur stared at him in shock and felt a bit of betrayal in his stomach, but he was grateful for his help, but this wasn’t his battle.

“This is not your battle to fight Merlin!” Morgana shouted.

“Yes it is! I will protect Arthur and my home at any cost,” Merlin replied.

Suddenly Morgana, Morgause, and Mordred threw spells at Merlin but he blocked them as if he had great practice.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Morgause commented.

While they were fighting, Guinevere rushed to Arthur’s side and checked him over.

“I probably should’ve listened to your advice this morning and had some food for more strength,” Arthur teased and Guinevere gave a small smile.

“I can mend these back with Gaius’s help, but right now, I can’t do anything.”

“That’s alright, I am going to end this now,” Arthur said grimacing as he got up and he noticed Merlin and Morgana were in a heated battle and Arthur knew how to get to her.

He picked up his sword and snuck up on Morgause and Mordred, who were trying to help Morgana, and he grabbed them and held them at sword point.

“Morgana!” he shouted and she turned towards him and he saw fire and anger flash in her eyes.

“Do not touch them!” She shouted.

“I will leave them unharmed if you will leave here and never return.”

“No!” Morgana argued back and Arthur dug the sword deeper into Morgause’s neck and he held a stronger grip on Mordred’s throat. Morgause hissed at the cool steel digging into her flesh and Morgana screamed “NO!” again.

“Do as he says sister,” Morgause hissed and Morgana looked torn and threw down her sword.

Arthur released them and he moved back towards his party. Guinevere rushed up to him and held him close as he stared back over at the three sorcerer’s.

But suddenly Morgana turned towards them and was muttering a harsh incantation and Merlin jumped in front of Arthur and Guinevere and screamed an incantation back at her. Morgana was surrounded by fire and was screaming as if she was in some horrible pain.

“Let that be a warning, that as long as Arthur is King and I’m by his side, you are to never return back to Camelot again!” Merlin shouted.

“Mark my words Arthur Pedragon and Merlin, I will be back, some day and you will regret ever being born and I will have my revenge!” Morgana shouted and they disappeared and the fire stopped.

Arthur stared at the place where they had disappeared, with Guinevere still holding him close and his loyal knights behind him and Merlin by his side. This was the future of Camelot and for the first time in the past few months, the morning sun never looked brighter than it did today.

A new dawn was breaking for Camelot.
________________________________________________________________________________________________

#3. Circle of Trust (PG, 1700 words)

----

Having such a close perspective on how Uther had reacted to and fought against his enemies over the years gave Morgana a unique advantage when she chose to attack Camelot. Gone were the more direct methods Morgause had apparently favored. Gwen knew better than anyone that Morgana preferred the subtle, more insidious ways to get what she wanted.

Like when the mysterious children arrived from an outlying village. Of course, Arthur had taken their stories of their village’s destruction at their word. His was the most trusting soul she had ever known, even after Morgana’s betrayal. He could hardly expect them to be Morgana’s eyes into the castle.

Only Gwen had suspected something was not quite right about the children. Telling Arthur was out of the question, since she knew he would never believe her, so she opted to tell Merlin of her fears instead. After she did, miraculously, they’d been exposed in court and the problem solved itself.

The same thing happened when she told Merlin she worried that the quest Elyan had undergone at some strange woman’s behest would put the knights in danger.

Then again when strange animals began prowling through the crops, animals nobody but a select few in the lower town could see. Merlin had taken her at her word. A day later, the animals were gone.

Arthur never seemed to question these resolutions. She tried telling him several times when they were alone, but in those moments, once he’d heard her reports about how the commoners were faring, he forbade any more talk about Camelot, or the knights, or the world in general if it didn’t involve kissing or comments about any of those things might lead to more than kissing.

Truth be told, when Arthur drew her against his hard body and began teasing the curve of her neck with whimsical brushes of his lips, she didn’t really wish to discuss politics or current events, either.

But then a patrol went missing. And another. And when a third failed to return from what should have been a routine scout of Camelot’s borders, even the lighthearted Gwaine started to worry.

With Uther still incapable of leading, it was Arthur who called the advisors into the great room to discuss their options. All of the knights were in attendance, too, as well as Merlin. Gwen pressed her ear to the thick door, straining to hear what was said, but the voices were mere murmurs, too indistinct to bear witness to. No arguments, no dissension. No indication that the talks were over until footsteps neared the door and she was forced to scuttle out of sight before she was caught eavesdropping.

Out of view of the others, she watched Merlin grab Gaius and drag him toward their quarters. She was tempted to follow, since she knew that even if Merlin didn’t tell her everything, he was far more likely to explain what was going on than Arthur was, but then Arthur emerged, head bowed, his jaw set as he turned toward the stairs. His path led him away from the others, alone and unchallenged. The solitude of his silhouette disappearing into the shadows compelled her to go after him. Because he needed to know, even if she wouldn’t be a part of whatever plan they had in mind, she was always with him in spirit.

He ended up in the armory and left the door slightly ajar behind him. Not once had he glanced behind him. Whatever decisions had been made amongst the court weighed him down. Even his steps had betrayed his concerns. Gwen lingered in the corridor, gnawing at her lip as her choices battled within her. Go to him, and risk his ill temper for distracting him in a time of crisis. Leave him alone, and risk his believing it was him against the world.

“I know you’re out there, Guinevere.” His low voice held no recriminations, but it held her in place all the same as his heavy footsteps approached the doorway. The door swung open to reveal him with a sword in his hand she didn’t recognize, as well as a shield that had seen more than its fair share of battles. Another question seemed poised on his lips, but his gaze rested on her for several seconds, moments when she didn’t think she was even breathing, before he nodded. “Walk with me.”

She fell in beside him, matching his slow steps with her own. Her thoughts still tumbled in her confusion, though the choices had shifted into new, just as worrisome configurations. Did he realize Merlin was such a strong ally? How much of a threat was Morgana’s latest attack? Did she need to rally the lower town to help?

So lost in her head, she barely noticed their path until he stopped in front of a heavy curtain. Pulling it aside, he edged out of the way to allow her to pass beyond it first, offering a crooked smile as she did.

The archway led onto a small balcony overlooking the stables and fields, with the marketplace teeming in the distance. It was a different view than that offered by the ramparts, or even the balcony used for royal announcements. This gave no perspective on the citadel or courtyard, but looked into the heart of Camelot, to the people who fed it, clothed it, helped it thrive. They were high enough for a brisk wind to catch her skirt and whip it around her legs. Gwen had to rub her arms to help stave off the chill.

Arthur didn’t seem to notice it. His gaze was on the horizon. “We’re marching out within the hour. Morgana’s gone too far this time.”

“Are you sure it’s her?” Gwen was, but she knew better than anybody that Arthur still held out hope the Morgana he’d grown up with would return.

“It’s her.” Said with a quiet resignation. A muscle in his tense jaw twitched. “She has to be stopped.”

“What if it’s a trap to lure you away from Camelot?”

“Then we spring it. I’m not leaving Camelot unprotected, though. Elyan and Percival are summoning the reserves they’ve been training from the outlying villages. Can you help ensure everyone is properly armed and taken care of?”

“Of course.”

He honored her with more responsibilities like this every day, bringing her more tightly into his circle of trust with each task he set her to do. Now, it wasn’t just the court who saw her at his side. He pushed her into the public eye as well. They still regarded her as one of them, but more and more, they saw her as Arthur’s, too.

She was not the only vigilant ally he had, though. And this was the perfect chance to pave the way.

“I hope you’re taking Merlin with you.” She deliberately opted for a casual tone. It gave her the means to withdraw from the subject if Arthur wasn’t amenable to it.

The corner of his mouth twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “Of course, I am. Someone has to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

That wasn’t quite what she had in mind, though at least she didn’t have to fight for Merlin to go. “He’s actually improved quite a bit. Did you watch his last sparring match with Gwaine?”

“You mean, did I see how Merlin managed to not trip and land on his bottom more than once while Gwaine never got a scratch?” It was a full-blown grin now, amused and more relaxed than he’d been since leaving his advisors. “It didn’t escape my notice, no.”

“Well…” She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Perhaps Merlin’s strengths aren’t with a sword. Perhaps his talents rest…elsewhere.”

Slowly, the mirth in Arthur’s features smoothed over. Though he still watched over the horizon, she had the distinct sensation that he saw everything she did, so kept her waiting for his response as neutral as possible.

It came with a quietly uttered declaration.

“I know they do.”

Her lungs burned from the breath she’d been holding, and she let it out with a slight tilt of her head to better read him. “You…know?”

“He’s been my servant for how long now?” When he glanced down at her, it wasn’t with recrimination. Gentle bemusement flickered in his eyes. “I would hope you’d have a little more faith in my powers of observation, Gwen.”

It was more than she’d hoped for, mostly because her suspicions about Merlin’s magic had been without proof. “But you’ve never said anything.”

“How could I? My father is still king. The ban on magic is still in place. And after Morgana…” He shook his head. “It’s safer for Merlin this way. And I can’t recognize his powers without weakening Camelot even more than it is.”

“But he should know.”

“He will. Some day. All of Camelot shall. For now, though, this is the best way for all of us.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. As long as Merlin wasn’t in danger-and he wouldn’t be, with Arthur protecting him-that was all that mattered.

“I’m glad you’re taking him with you.”

“I have to. He’s one of the best weapons I have against Morgana. And besides, I know he’ll do everything in his power to help in the fight.”

“You trust him.”

“With everything that matters most to me. You.” He nodded toward the horizon. “And Camelot.”

The only thing that would have made that moment better was if Merlin had been there to see it. Because this was the king Gwen had always known Arthur would be. He might not have the crown, but with his determination to preserve his people-all of his people-he didn’t need it.

Slipping her arms around his waist, she burrowed into him. Not for warmth or protection, but to show how much she loved him, how proud she was of the man he was becoming. The wind and chill disappeared. Only she and Arthur existed.

An hour later, when Merlin came to fetch him for the journey, they still stood there, arms around each other, ready to face and defeat Camelot’s latest challenge.

With Merlin’s help.

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#4. Paladin (PG, 1930 words)

Arthur watched as the last of the routed bandits disappeared into the distance, proud at the quick victory his men had achieved. It would send a clear message that Guinevere's retinue would never be safe prey, that Camelot was at her back.

Finally feeling safe in taking his eyes from the horizon, he glanced down at her, clinging to him in a manner that mirrored his own deep relief. "You're all right?" he asked anxiously, and she nodded.

"And you?"

"Fine, thanks to you." They exchanged a brief smile; he had told her before that she constantly surprised him, and she continued to do so with each day that passed.

"Gwen!" They both looked up as Helaine ran up and flung her arms around Guinevere. "I'm so glad you're safe! I cannot believe you charged at that soldier unarmed; what were you thinking?"

Guinevere gave the other woman a funny look. "I was thinking to stop him from killing Arthur, which I managed to do." Arthur grinned to himself; Guinevere had confided to him that, while she quite liked Lancelot's betrothed, Helaine sometimes said things that struck her as a little odd. Apparently, today would be no different.

"Well, you should have at least hit him with a stick or a rock," Helaine chided. "Or, learn to keep a dagger in your boot." She flashed them a quick smile as she said it.

Arthur's eyebrows rose. "You keep a dagger in your boot?"

"When I'm wearing boots," she qualified, in a tone that suggested she still had one on her person even when she was not.

Arthur met Guinevere's eyes, which mirrored his own bemusement, and he nearly started laughing out of a lack of any other sort of reply. He was saved having to think of a proper reaction when Helaine said more soberly, "I'm going to go see what I can do here-- I am glad you're both safe."

"I'm glad you are, as well," Guinevere replied sincerely.

The young woman's plan was all anyone could do, and it was some time before the group from Camelot retired. The wounded and dead had been seen to, and the army and those they had rescued could finally sleep.

At least, they had the option to sleep, but Arthur found himself unable to do so, instead staring up at the muted colors of his tent as the torchlight outside shone in.

Gwen could not sleep, either, and finally gave up. Slipping off of her cot, she wrapped one of the blankets around her shoulders and moved quietly to the flap in the tent, not wanting to wake Helaine, who was sleeping soundly.

A pair of guards was stationed outside, and one of them warned Gwen to stay within the camp. "I shall," she agreed, and began to walk the path created by the line of tents. So many people had come, such a portion of Camelot's army, in large part for her. It still made her a little nervous, to have that degree of importance placed on her by Camelot's prince regent... but, when it came down to it, what was happening was that Arthur was using every resource at his disposal to save her, as anyone worth their salt would do for their beloved. He just happened to have far more resources than most.

Looking at it that way, she was able to relax, and merely be warmed at the gesture, and it helped that the guards she passed all acknowledged her pleasantly. By the time she completed her circuit of the camp and got back to the tent she was sharing with Helaine, she was feeling far more at ease; however, instead of going in and laying down, she found her eyes drawn to Arthur's tent, set up beside hers. It would be nice to talk to him, since they had been too busy earlier this evening, yet she was hardly about to wake him up. With a sigh, she was about to retire, when Arthur stepped outside.

He seemed as surprised to see her as she to see him-- and as pleased. As Gwen joined him, he smiled. "You could not sleep, either?"

"Not a wink," she confirmed. "I thought a stroll might help, but no such luck."

Glancing at his tent and then back to her, he asked, "What about a nightcap? I have a little wine, but didn't care to drink it alone."

Happy that she would get to talk with him after all, Gwen nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."

He gestured for her to precede him into the tent, holding the flap open for her, and then followed her inside. "You can take the cot. It's more comfortable than the bench," he said, retrieving a bottle and two goblets from a small chest while she seated herself on the camp bed. Handing her one of the goblets, he then dropped onto a short bench situated in front of an equally small table near her.

Taking a sip of the wine, she reflected on how spartan the furnishings were; other than the simple table and seat, the chest, and the admittedly comfortable cot, the only other adornment in the room was a sword rack. Most royalty traveled in much grander style, taking rugs and more decorative furnishings, at least-- things servants had to carry. She preferred this simpler style.

"So, why can't you sleep?" Arthur asked.

"I do not know," she replied. "I'm so tired, but my mind will not stop going."

"I know what you mean." He tilted his goblet, looking into it as though it held a solution to his thoughts. "I cannot stop going over everything that will need to be done tomorrow."

"I cannot stop going over everything that happened today," Gwen said softly. "This should have been a simple journey; it was all going so well..." She had decided to accompany Helaine on a short trip to visit the other woman's cousin, who lived two days' ride from Camelot. "If I had not gone, this might never have happened. I was the target. Helaine might have died because of me... some of Camelot's men did die. Sir Sagramor, Sir Galeschin--"

"Guinevere." Arthur had set his goblet on the table and came over to crouch in front of her, relieving her of her goblet and setting it aside on the ground, so that he could take her hands. "It is not your fault, it is mine. I knew that Lord Claudas was planning to move against me, and I should have known he might try to use you; he's always been too cowardly to face me, himself. I should have planned for this."

"No, you could not have known," she argued, laying a hand on his cheek.

"I had a better chance to know than you," he pointed out.

Gwen could not argue that, but she did have a different argument. "The true fault lies with Lord Claudas."

Arthur had to concede, yet still wanted to make sure that Guinevere acknowledged what she had said, too. "And not with you."

The smile she gave him was slow, but real. "Thank you," she said quietly. "And, thank you for coming for us."

Arthur was slightly taken aback. "You never have to thank me for that," he told her. "In fact, I want you to expect it-- although, I sincerely hope there will never be another time where you will need to," he added with a touch of humor, despite the genuineness of his words.

"I will expect you to always come for me, if you agree to expect the same of me," she told him, and while she was still smiling, he got the sense that she was absolutely serious.

"Guinev--"

"Please don't 'Guinevere' me yet," she interrupted. "I mean it. I have fought for Merlin and his people, and I have kept men from pursuing Morgana; never doubt that I will fight for you. I will fight the hardest for you."

Arthur met her gaze, deeply touched by the intensity of the emotion in hers, and nodded. "Very well." Giving her hand a little squeeze, he gently quipped, "Just remember to keep a dagger in your boot."

They both laughed, and then she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. While he had already gone through worry and the subsequent relief regarding her safety earlier, and had since been focusing simply on the fact that she was unharmed, an unexpected second wave of relief washed over him then, and he pulled her closer. Her arms tightened around him, and it was awhile before he pulled back. "I'll walk you home," he tried to say lightly, the tone marred by a distinct inability to breathe properly just yet.

She bit her lip, making it difficult to resist doing that for her, then said in a rush, "If it's all the same, I would prefer to stay here. If you do not mind." Her own breathing was faring no better than his, which made the quick statement seem even more hurried. "It's quite cold tonight, and the tent does not keep out the chill very well, even with the blankets, and--"

He was so surprised, he just stared at her for several beats as she rambled nervously. "Of course, I do not mind," he finally managed to say. "I'm sorry... I didn't realize you were cold; go ahead and get under the covers."

Guinevere slipped off her shoes and did as he bid. As he tucked the covers around her, she gazed up at him. "I'm still cold. Will you join me?"

It was not an invitation he should accept, but he heard himself say, "If you wish."

"I do wish," she replied, the corners of her mouth turning up in a very assured manner; although her speech had been nervous, it was apparently only putting it into words that she found difficult. She apparently had no hesitation about what she wanted.

Quickly shedding his boots, he climbed in beside her. As she cuddled up beside him, he asked, "Warm now?"

"Very," she confirmed, the word marred when she yawned widely. Arthur grinned, until her yawn inspired one of his own. "Mmm, I'm so sleepy all of a sudden," she murmured.

"Then, go to sleep," he suggested softly, feeling that same lure, himself. She was just so comfortable, and while he would have expected to have something more than sleep in mind-- still would be open to the notion-- this was perfect unto itself.

"Good night, Arthur," she mumbled.

"Good night, Guinevere." He was not even sure if she heard him, or if she fell asleep before he spoke. Enjoying having her in his arms, he reminded himself to be more vigilant from here on out. It was no longer a secret to anyone what she meant to him, which made her a target. He would not let anything happen to her-- nor, apparently, would she let anything happen to him. While his immediate inclination had been to brush that off, he knew better. Guinevere was a quiet woman, but a true one. If she said she would fight on his behalf, he had no doubt that she would.

Somehow, the idea warmed him, almost as much as the sensation of her sleeping on his shoulder did. Guinevere was his comfort amongst the ceaseless troubles they faced, and he would be as proud to have her fight for him as he was to fight for her.

Placing a gentle kiss on her hair, he was soon asleep, as well.

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#5. A Queen's Vengeance (R for implied violence and character deaths, 1027 words)

Arthur Pendragon shared more qualities with his father than he or even Guinevere would have liked to admit. Both men were capable of fierce love, as were they both capable of fierce wrath when those loved ones were lost.

Merlin’s death turned Arthur into a different man - one whom his own wife often did not recognize. Whereas his father had sought vengeance on every person of magic in the kingdom, Arthur only wanted one sorcerer.

Mordred.

The child Arthur and Merlin had once saved from execution had turned into a monster unlike they had ever known. As soon as Merlin knew that Kilgarrah had been right about Mordred’s nature, he became set on keeping the rest of what the dragon foretold from coming true. Even if that meant sacrificing his own life to save Arthur’s.

Gwen had to beg Arthur not to pursue Mordred. She’d wrapped blocked his way and wrapped her arms around him in an attempt to hold him back. “Arthur, please,” she’d pleaded. “I just lost Merlin. Don’t let me lose you, too.”

She’d felt his panting breath slow and his body relax until he dropped his sword and shield and wrapped his arms around her in turn. His head had drooped and his face became buried in her hair. First she’d felt the dampness of his tears, then the shaking of his body has he began to sob.

Gwen had never seen Arthur break down like that before. But it was not nearly as alarming to see as the vengeful man he’d turned into the next day.

Not only was Gwen terrified of losing Arthur to his fury, she was afraid he would lose his life as well. Merlin had thought he’d changed Arthur’s fate to be killed by Mordred. But what if Merlin had merely delayed it? What if Arthur’s true fate had always been to die in pursuit of revenge?

Gwen was going to make sure that didn’t happen.

~~~

The second time Arthur left with the knights in an attempt to track Mordred down, Gwen went on a mission of her own.

She traveled to what had once been Cenred’s kingdom, a land that was now split between Camelot and the other neighboring kingdoms. Cenred’s old castle, however, stood in the middle, unwilling to be claimed by any kingdom. No one dared to.

Gwen rode up to the gates, her had wrapped firmly around the protective amulet Merlin had once given her. Although she did not know if it would be powerful enough against whatever curses might surround this place.

The gates opened on their own accord, making Gwen wonder if she was expected or if it was a trap. Not knowing what else to do, she led her horse into the courtyard and dismounted just as the doors to the castle opened.

Gwen went inside, following the lit torches and opening doors until she came to what had probably once been Cenred’s throne room.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Gwen,” Morgana said. “What could possibly bring you here?”

Gwen swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Merlin was killed.”

Morgana could not help a smile. “And you thought you would bring me the good news? I’m grateful, however I already knew.”

Gwen’s jaw grew rigid as she fought back her anger. “I want you to avenge him.”

“You want vengeance, Gwen? I know you’ve always believed in justice, but never have you sought pure vengeance.”

“Well now I do.”

“No,” Morgana replied with a shake of her head. “It’s Arthur that wants vengeance. He’s put all his efforts into trying to find Mordred. And you’re afraid that when Arthur tries to kill Mordred, Mordred will just kill him with a snap of his fingers.”

Gwen’s breath shuddered. “Yes.”

“But why should I help you?”

“Because somewhere under all the hate that’s grown inside you, you once cared for Arthur and me. And you even once cared for Merlin.”

“Which would have once persuaded me, but why should I do it now?”

Gwen raised her chin. “Then do it because Mordred is a power-hungry bastard and I’d guess that one day he’ll come after you to get rid of the competition and prove how powerful himself as the most powerful sorcerer of Albion. Mordred only managed to kill Merlin out of luck, not skill, as his real target had been Arthur. I believe that you’re the more powerful one, so only you can kill him. But Merlin believed that Mordred had a way of quickly gaining power, so you should best do it before he becomes more powerful than you. And if he does, who will take care of your sister?”

Morgana paused for a moment, her eyes growing soft in worry for Morgause, invalid since the two had attempted to take Camelot. But Morgana caught her moment of weakness and smirked. “I see you yourself have become more powerful, your highness. I would hate to face you in court.”

“So will you do it?”

“I’ll consider it,” Morgana said with a nod, before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

~~~

Arthur came back three days after Gwen had spoken with Morgana.

His lack of progress weighed heavily on him and his frustration only increased. Gwen could tell by his distraction, by his fitful sleep, by his lack of appetite. He shut himself in his study when he wasn’t training, leaving Gwen to manage the court.

It was a week later when Gwaine and Leon burst into the courtroom.

“Your highness,” Gwaine said with a hurried bow. “There’s… there’s something you must see.”

Gwen was led to the courtyard, where a horse and cart was waiting. On it was the shape of a body wrapped in cloth.

“It just came here on its own. There was no driver,” Leon said as Gwen approached.

Gwen lifted the edge of the cloth over the face that had been freed. She met the cold, lifeless eyes of Mordred. She swallowed, reminding herself that this boy of seventeen, just barely a man, was far from innocent. Gwen had done this for her friend and husband.

Finally she sighed and recovered his face.

“Fetch the king.”

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