rabbit hearted boy, part four

[thedreamygirl]

Part Three

Part Four

Following his discussion with his wife Uther found himself, much to his dismay, in the position of officially decreeing that his son would be allowed outside of the castle to swim; a declaration as annoying as it was embarrassing. But his troubles did not stop there, for many subsequent arrangements had to be made; after all, the closest body of water was the moat that surrounded the castle, but it was inhabited by various creatures that a prince could not swim alongside.

Uther worried over where the swimming would take place, how often it would be permitted and how many knights would accompany Arthur on the trip. Ygraine declared that Arthur would swim wherever he wanted, permitting it was within Camelot’s borders, however often he desired, provided it wasn’t so often that he would fall ill, and he would go with how many knights he wished, as long as it wasn’t more than Uther could spare, and that was the end of it.

For a whole month after Arthur began to swim regularly, Uther avoided the subject with his wife entirely, feeling that they thought too differently on the matter for a pleasing end to the conversation to be reached. However, one afternoon he made the effort of seeking out Ygraine before her weekly walk around the town to inform her of his most recent thoughts.

“I would like to say that I still do not approve of all this swimming. However, if it must continue to take place -”

“And it must,” Ygraine interrupted.

“If it must, then I think we should build a new place for Arthur to go swimming in.”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with where he goes now. Arthur likes the lake and the knights said the area was perfectly safe and secluded when you sent them to check.”

“Yes, but plenty of other people still have access to it. And surely it would be much better if he had a place closer to the castle for him to swim? It would be safer - and he would be able to swim more often,” Uther added deliberately, knowing it would please his wife, even if it did not please him.

“That is quite true.” Ygraine pondered over the suggestion for a moment longer before stating, “Well, if you really wish it and Arthur likes the plan then I see no reason why not.”

“Excellent. I will speak to Arthur about the matter tonight, and organise a team of men to start building it tomorrow.”

“Uther, surely some of the servants are capable of digging a hole and filling it with water?”

“A hole?” Uther repeated. “My dear, a mere hole is not fit for a prince to swim in.”

Ygraine pursed her lips together tightly so that they would not break out into a smile. “Sir Leon’s report made it appear that our son’s current location resembles one.”

Uther shuddered as he made his way to the door. “Do not remind me.”

*

At that moment, Arthur was occupied in his new favourite pastime.

Despite his father’s protests, his mother had managed to convince him that Sir Leon was sufficient escort for Arthur’s trips to the lake, unless the day was particularly windy. As that day was not, Arthur and Leon had set out to the lake by themselves and once Arthur was safely in the water, Leon had left the prince to wander around the forest.

As far as the king and queen knew, Leon stayed by Arthur’s side during all of his excursions, but this was not usually the case. Leon was nothing if not dedicated to his job, but at the end of the day, standing by a lake and watching someone else swim was a rather boring task. Although Leon found Arthur surprisingly more interesting to hold a conversation with in water than out of it, there were only so many things the two men had to say to each other when forced to spend so much time together, and Arthur was there to swim, not talk. So, with Arthur’s encouragement, and his own certainty that the prince would not fall into harm while in the water (and as he was always disappointed when informed it was time to return home, Leon did not think the prince would leave the water before his return), Leon was able to stroll through the trees within a small area of the prince without too much of a guilty conscience.

This left Arthur free to enjoy his time in the water, in whatever manner he so chose, and one of the many discoveries he had recently made, was that possibly his favourite part of going swimming was when he stopped swimming; laying still in the lake, and letting the water drag him down.

When he had tried to explain it to Merlin, his friend had looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. Arthur supposed to one as clumsy as Merlin, falling was too much of an everyday occurrence to warrant any special notice, but even Leon, whom Arthur had never once seen fall over in the many years he had known him (years which had included a lot of running after his own airborne self), had merely eyed him warily at the confession and smiled politely.

Arthur supposed he could hardly explain it to himself, as he felt his breath starting to leave him, and pushed himself up to the surface of the water so he could inhale deeply. He had been both pulled up by the wind, and pulled down by Leon’s infernal endless supply of rope many a time; upright and upside down, sideways and diagonally, from his foot, arm, waist - once even his ear, but that incident was between himself and the knight - but there was something about being pulled down by the water that felt remarkably different, strangely…natural.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur closed his eyes and let his limbs go limp as the water began to pull his body into its depths.

As it did so his back was facing the gap in the trees that revealed the lake, so even if he had kept his eyes open Arthur would not have seen the young woman walking past at the time.

As his ears were somewhat clogged with the water he had spent nearly an hour swimming in, and was currently sinking into, he did not hear her cry out, let alone her footsteps, and so was completely taken aback when the water was disturbed by the loud plop of someone jumping into it.

Arthur’s first instinct as he opened his eyes was that it must be Leon but then even with the water blurring his vision, he could see that it was a distinctly feminine hand grabbing onto his arm.

Jerking forwards, Arthur quickly rose to the surface before turning round. The dark blur in the water before him soon emerged, and two slightly worried and highly puzzled individuals stared at one another for a few moments, before both spoke at the same time.

“Are you al-” she began, but stopped herself at his exclamation.

“What were you doing?”

“What?” she repeated, eyebrows crinkling in confusion. She wiped her wet hair away from her face as she tied to explain, “I was trying to save you.”

“Attack me more like!” he blurted.

Shocked, she sputtered, “I was only trying to help!”

“Well, I didn’t need any help!”

The girl stared at him for a few more moments astounded, before turning as swiftly as she could to move to the side of the lake. “Well, I am sorry for making you think you were under attack,” she bit out as she stood on the side of the bank, not sounding very sorry at all.

“I…” Arthur trailed off, suddenly realising just how rude he had been while she tried to shake some of the water out of her skirts; not that it did much help, she was thoroughly soaked. Grasping that she truly had jumped in simply to help, Arthur instantly regretted his harsh words. “Wait!” he called out as she began to walk away from the lake. He started forming an apology in his head, but forgot it as soon as she turned back round to face him, allowing him to see her fully.

He had met quite a few women before, mainly princesses or daughters of noblemen (an unmarried prince will always be considered an eligible bachelor, and if that prince is to one day be king then that alone outweighs all other concerns, including the inability to withstand a light breeze), all of whom had been immaculately dressed in the finest clothes and jewels their fathers’ money could buy. But he had never seen one quite so…indecent.

She was, of course, still fully dressed in her lavender gown, that may have indeed once been a modest and pleasant looking sort of dress. However, as a result of her dip in the lake, the dress clung quite fully to her slender figure and the water droplets stuck to her skin forming peculiar patterns on her neck and the slight amount of skin revealed by her neckline.

A voice in his head noted that he might consider her actually rather…well, attractive was the word he had heard used; if she wasn’t looking at him as if she thought he was vile.

“Yes?” she prompted, after he failed to speak.

“Uh - it is I who am sorry. I should not have spoken to you like that.”

“It is no matter,” she stated, before turning once more and starting to put her shoes back on.

“Thank you,” he tried again, “for trying to help - even though it wasn’t needed.”

Although the statement was blunt, his tone was not, causing her to stop and consider him once more. “What were you doing?”

“Swimming.”

“Most people don’t call pretending to drown themselves in water swimming. - Or swim with all their clothes on for that matter,” she pointed out as she retied her hair, pulling the wet locks away from her face.

Arthur offered the first thing that came to mind, “I have strict parents.”

She laughed at that, a deep throaty chuckle. “Strict parents who made you believe everyone’s out to attack you?”

Arthur thought of the countless times his father had lectured him on the dangers of the world; evil witches and wizards, assassins, traitors, all out for the crown and the kingdom of Camelot - words that had blown away when spoken in air, but that grew louder and louder the more time he spent in water. “In a way…” he began.

She observed him curiously, or what she could see of the young man, chest deep in water; blue tunic, fair skin and blond hair all wet through. “Why were you doing that…letting yourself almost drown?”

This made Arthur pause. He’d never had to actually tell anyone about his condition before. Everyone he’d ever met had already known. - He supposed, in all likelihood this stranger knew as well (he had heard that all of Albion was well aware of the strange predicament of the Prince of Camelot), she just didn’t know he was the prince, and he didn’t particularly feel like explaining. “I was just…fooling around. I didn’t realise how it might look to someone else. I am sorry.”

Realising he was being sincere, she accepted his apology gracefully. “Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your swim,” she added, making her way towards the clearing in the trees to leave the stranger in peace.

“Where are you going?” he called out.

She hid a smile, for the truth was she wasn’t quite sure. Although she’d set out from her home for a specific destination, she could not arrive there now looking as she did. “Home,” she settled on.

“Do you live nearby?” he wondered.

“Not very,” she said, picking up the small satchel which Arthur now saw had been lying beside one of the trees.

“Do you have to go now?”

“It’s probably best if I do.”

“Oh…well, I have a towel you can use first, if you like?”

“You do?”

“It’s over there,” Arthur pointed behind him and she noticed lying amongst the grass and leaves was a towel, next to some clothes.

She looked down at herself and then back at him. “You don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

She walked round the lake and started over to the object, noticing that the water boy moved to the side now nearest her and started following her, but remained in the lake while doing so.

“Are you from Camelot?”

She laughed lightly as she carefully manoeuvred through the fallen branches and logs on the grass. “You know, you ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m curious.”

“Your strict parents don’t let you out much?” she joked.

Arthur beamed at the accidental accuracy of her remark, but hadn’t quite come up with a reply when he saw her foot get caught in between two large logs. “Are you alright?” he wondered, as she struggled to remove her foot from between them.

“Yes, I just need to -” she began, bending over to place her hands around her ankle and pull, but the action worked a little too well, and a moment later she’d slipped and fallen backwards, right into the lake.

Surprised, Arthur’s initial reaction was to jump backwards and watch her fall in just in front of him. However a moment later he collected himself and went underwater. Putting a hand on the girl’s back he helped her right herself in the water and they soon resurfaced, with only minimal gasps for breath leaving her breath.

“Are you alright?” he asked once more.

She nodded, as she regained her breath. “Sorry. I’m just a bit clumsy,” she admitted, smiling.

He started to smile in return, but something held him back; a feeling he couldn’t name or didn’t understand. All he could tell, as he gazed upon the brilliant smile that lit up her still dripping wet face, surprisingly drawn to her little eyelashes all stuck to each other because of the water, was that the feeling was strong.

“That’s alright. Sure you weren’t just trying to get back in?” he found himself saying.

“What? No,” she remarked with a laugh. Completely unaware of what was going through Arthur’s mind at the time, the girl made her way out of the lake once more. “I am going to be so late. And I’m definitely going to need to borrow your towel now.”

He watched quietly as she picked it up and began to wipe her face.

“What is your name?”

She paused to look at him, as if considering whether she should answer, but then moved on to drying her hair. “Guinevere,” she answered, “What’s yours?”

“Arthur.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you Arthur. And thank you very much for the loan of your towel,” she added, folding it before placing it back down next to the dry clothes, “but now I really must be off.”

“Oh. Alright. Will you come this way again?” he asked suddenly, as she picked up her bag.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Maybe.”

“I come here all the time,” he blurted. “Everyday, actually.”

“That’s nice.” She was a little unsure as to why he was telling her all this. He was very curious, but she truly did not have the time to stay and chat; especially not now that she was drenched. “Well, enjoy your swim. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye!” he called after her, watching Guinevere disappear into the trees. He wasn’t sure how long he’d remained like that, staring at nothing, when Leon spoke to him.

“Prince Arthur?”

Arthur looked up jerkily at Sir Leon, who was standing on the land behind him. “Leon - is it time to go already?” he wondered.

“It was five minutes ago, sire. I got a little lost in part of the woods. I am sorry, it will not happen again,” Leon apologised out of habit, rather than a belief that Arthur was annoyed by his delay.

Arthur shook his head dimly as he approached the edge of the lake. “That’s fine.”

Picking up both the towel and his clean clothes Arthur disappeared behind the greenery. Leon stood patiently as he heard Arthur begin changing, but was surprised when Arthur called out to him.

“Yes, sire?”

“Did you…see anyone when you were walking?”

“No, my lord, there was no one about. Why, did you hear something?”

“No,” Arthur replied instantly. Then, “Well, er, I met someone actually.”

“You met someone?” Leon repeated, his mind instantly racing with questions and the fear of being sent to the stocks or the dungeons when the king found out.

“Yes, she was walking through here.”

“She, my lord?”

“Yes…I just wondered whether you might have seen her.”

“I’m afraid I did not, my lord,” Leon stated, but received no reply from Arthur. He only had to stand quietly for a few minutes longer before the prince emerged from behind the trees now completely dry apart from his damp hair.

Arthur stepped in front of him and popped the wet towel and clothes into Leon’s waiting hands. “After you then, Leon?” he said, in his usual way, a casual smile gracing his face.

Leon no longer sighed as he gave his customary reply, “You first, sire.”

“Very well.” Arthur nodded and started walking in the direction he now knew well as Leon followed.

“My lord?”

“Yes?”

“This lady you met…”

“What lady?” Arthur said instantly, whipping his head around to look at Leon in confusion, before he recollected. “Oh, her. Yes?”

“Who was she?” Leon inquired.

Arthur shrugged. “Oh, no one,” he said simply, without the slightest hint he was hiding anything.

“She didn’t seem…suspicious though did she?”

Arthur looked truly puzzled this time when he met Leon’s gaze. “No. Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Did it seem like she was trying to do you harm?”

At this Arthur laughed outright, the bright ray’s of the sun highlighting his golden hair and the mirth in his faith. “You worry too much Leon.”

Leon neglected to point out he thought the prince worried far too little, and reminded himself to only ask him any question of worth when he was submerged in water, for it was the only time he could be guaranteed a worthwhile answer.

*

Ygraine smiled lightly as she prepared herself to relay the bad news. She’d had to do things this for many years now, but part of her always felt slightly guilty, especially when she could tell the people really needed the help or were particularly young. The girl she had just interviewed to be a new kitchen maid was young, but far from the youngest they employed, and although she probably did need the work - Ygraine could surmise no other reason for the girl to have travelled so far to seek it - she appeared well dressed and looked after, and would not be entirely without hope if she did not gain employment that day (which was more than Ygraine could say for some she had had to turn away in the past). But the girl seemed to have a good spirit and a kind of untaught politeness that made Ygraine feel regretful she could not employ her.

However, despite everything she had to recommend herself, the girl had had no experience in being a servant at all. If the girl was still a child, Ygraine might have overlooked it, but Ygraine had been running the castle for long enough to know that to hire a young woman of twenty whose only experience of work was as a blacksmith was not the smart decision to make.

“Thank you,” Ygraine glanced down at the parchment in her hand before continuing, “Guinevere, but I am afraid we do not have a place for you at the castle.”

“Oh. I see…”

“Perhaps you should inquire at the forge,” Ygraine suggested. “Camelot’s blacksmith may be in need of another pair of hands.”

“Thank you, my lady; I have been there already.”

Ygraine nodded but remained quiet, waiting for the girl to leave. Although she sympathised, she had already said more than was required of her and was likely to have many more similar cases as the day went on.

Guinevere looked around her nervously, but made no move to leave. “My lady…”

“That is all,” Ygraine dismissed.

“I have something I was told to give you,” she finished quickly, her face apologetic as her hand reached inside the pocket of her dress and brandished a piece of parchment. “Well, actually it says to hand it to the king, but…”

Ygraine glanced to her left where two of her handmaidens stood. Marie, the one who had served her longest and of whom Ygraine was very fond, stood closest and she immediately went forward to collect the note. Once it was in her hands, Ygraine skimmed through the note quickly and the information she gleaned from it caused her to go back to the beginning and read it through properly. After she had finished perusing it, she said, “The lady who brought you in did not tell me you had this.”

Eyes downcast, Guinevere replied, “I had not made her aware of it.”

“I see.” The note in question bore both the Pendragon royal seal and her husband’s signature. She had not seen its like in a long time, but there was no mistaking it was real, which meant she had to honour it. Ygraine was unsure whether she was annoyed that the girl hadn’t told her straight away, so she need not have wasted time, or if she admired her for trying to get work on her own merit initially. “Well, I think we can find some work for you in the kitchens.”

Guinevere bowed. “Thank you, my lady.”

Turning to her handmaiden, Ygraine added, “Marie, could you escort Guinevere there and have Cook find her some work?”

Marie was a little surprised by the sudden change in her mistresses’ mind, but she had been a servant too long to show it. She nodded her acquiescence and showed the new girl out of her lady’s chambers.

“Well, Guinevere,” she said, “I’m Marie; one of her majesty’s handmaiden’s.”

“Hello. You can call me Gwen, most people do.”

“Gwen, it is then. So you have never been a servant before then? It is not something many people turn to at your age. I’d wager I have been a maid in Camelot since before you were born,” Marie said, walking fast down the corridors, but Gwen was able to keep up.

“I am in need of the work.”

“Well, in addition to working in the kitchen, you will be expected to do other tasks around the castle when necessary, especially until they have filled the other positions of a few servants who have left recently. One of the stable boys is off sick, and currently I am in charge of feeding the horses,” Marie offered by way of explanation. “My lady is kind but firm and she expects only the best from everyone. You will not have to see the king unless there is a large feast and then, of course, you would only be serving.”

“Of course.”

“I hope you do not take offense but, if there is a feast you may be in need of some other attire. The dress you are currently wearing is fine for everyday, but when we have feasts, the king expects the servants to be dressed slightly better, although still as befits our station.”

“That’s fine, this isn’t actually my dress,” Gwen admitted, fingering the yellow cloth. “I…had an accident on my way to Camelot.”

“You were not injured, I hope?”

“No, only I…damaged my dress,” Gwen said, deciding that sounded better than saying she wet it by jumping into a lake in an attempt to save someone who it turned out wasn’t actually drowning. “I am staying with my cousin, and she lent me one of her old ones to wear today, but I will have the necessary attire for a feast.”

“Good. Oh!” Marie stopped in her tracks and turned to face the new servant. “I know you said to the queen that you had not lived in Camelot for some time, but I suspect you have heard about the prince’s…condition?”

Gwen bit down on the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. “Yes.”

“Do not mention it. Ever,” Marie stated seriously, and Gwen nodded in reply.

“Well,” Marie continued on their walk down the stairs, “you will need to know how to get around the castle but you can do that later. For today, I will take you to the kitchens and you will learn how things work around there. The kitchens are Cook’s kingdom and as long as you are in there you are ruled only by her, unless the queen expressly states otherwise.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Oh no,” Marie shook her head quickly, her tone less formal, “My lady knows you must not anger Cook.”

Gwen had not time to process that thought when they were met on the landing of the floor by a very-tired looking boy, who almost walked right into them.

“Merlin! Be careful,” Marie clucked.

“Sorry, sorry,” he responded swiftly, steadying himself and the large bucket of water he was carrying that had luckily not tipped over at their close-call. Then noticing Gwen, he added, “Hello.”

“Merlin, this is Gwen, our new kitchen maid. Gwen, this is Merlin, he also works in the castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” Merlin beamed, setting down the tub of water so he could stick his hand out to her.

“You too,” she replied, shaking it.

“What are you doing with that, Merlin?” Marie wondered as the three of them started walking again, all in the same direction; downstairs.

“Gaius is doing an experiment,” he explained, panting heavily as he carried the bucket.

“Are you alright?” Gwen asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not…that heavy,” he lied, as both women eyed him warily.

Shaking her head, Marie stated, “Gaius works you too hard, Merlin. Have you eaten today?”

“I had,” he paused to shift the way he held the bucket once more, “some bread in the morning.”

Marie was about to remind Merlin, as she always did, that he needed to eat more widely as well as more in quantity, but as the three of them left the staircase at the next landing and started walking down the hallway they heard two voices speaking loudly to one another, although she could not tell if they were arguing, or what about.

As they approached a corner, Gwen suddenly cried, “Oh, look out!” and put a hand in front of Marie to stop her from walking further.

She would have asked the girl what she was thinking, but she soon saw the string spread across the ground, but slightly elevated, as would easily cause one to trip over it and fall to the ground. Marie was relieved she saw it in time.

Merlin was not so lucky. His foot knocked into the thread and he fell forwards onto the stone floor, the bucket flying out of his hands and out of their line of vision as it passed behind the wall.

Gwen and Marie shared a fleeting glance before they dashed forwards to lift Merlin up to his feet.

In front of her Gwen was surprised to hear someone laugh. She looked straight ahead as she stood, Merlin now upright of his own accord, and was surprised to see a familiar face; one that was, thanks to the spilt water, just as wet as when she last saw it only a little earlier that day, albeit in different clothing.

Arthur brushed the wet hair off his face as if to make sure it really was her before he exclaimed, “Guinevere!”

“Ar-” she began, then gasped. “Prince Arthur!”

Gwen could feel the stares of Marie and the tall man standing behind the prince, who had also gotten wet, seeping into her skin, but Merlin was not paying anyone else any attention when he groaned.

“Gah! Now I’ve got to go get another!” he complained.

“Sorry, Merlin,” Leon apologised, bending down to pick up the overturned bucket and return it to Merlin, in addition to the string Arthur had snatched from him and laid out across the floor.

“It’s not your fault,” he grumbled in a low tone, but everyone could still hear as he glared daggers at Arthur who looked back at him with a wide smile.

“You should have seen your face!”

“I’m glad to be of amusement,” he stated sourly.

The group then reassembled themselves; with Marie and Gwen walking straight on before Leon led Arthur away and up the stairs while Merlin tried to wring out the water that had dampened the ends of his tunic.

Under any other circumstances Leon would have wondered at the prince’s acknowledgement of the girl with Marie, and probably have connected it to his questions back at the lake. However, as they made their way to Arthur’s chambers Leon’s mind was rather full. Not only was he considering the effects of the water on his already rusting armour and trying to think of a better place for his string as the prince had taken it from him too easily (not to mention that he then put it to use for mischievous purposes), but Leon was almost certain he had seen the queen’s handmaiden take a carrot stick out of a pocket in her apron and tuck it into Merlin’s jacket before she had walked away.

He did have time to recollect the incident when he was escorting the prince to his chambers again later that day after dinner. Leon was walking silently by Arthur’s side and as they turned out of the hallway and up to the staircase, the same girl from earlier that day was coming down the steps. She bowed slightly when she saw them, an action performed by many of the servants in passing out of habit, but Leon noticed she also greeted Arthur with a genuine smile.

Leon watched as the prince nodded at her, and returned the smile but without warmth; it was merely that same, almost silly, contented expression his enchantment planted on his face. Arthur then continued on straight past her up the stairs, and Leon dutifully followed, but not before he saw she recognised the difference.

Five