Once they were inside the forge, Arthur did as requested -- closing the door -- though he was unsure why. Still. Guinevère did not pose as any threat, and he supposed he should hear her out. He kept a distance between them however and that distance only remained when she revealed that she was the queen's maid. He knew it was too good to be true -- that she was too good to be true. For finding out that she was so close to the queen, had Arthur quickly replaying their conversation to make sure he didn't say anything against the queen. Thank goodness he had held his tongue when the subject of poverty arose! But that, wasn't the biggest reveal that she had made, for it only seemed to get worse as she spoke of how the queen was here for him. His eyes slightly widened, not understanding.
"Why?" He questioned. "Why would she be looking for me? I have done nothing to draw the queen's attentions." And it was clear, they were bad attentions. No one wanted the queen to be after them, for it was never anything good. Usually, it meant imprisonment and/or execution. Arthur tried to think and think hard of what she could possibly have against him! He had said nothing to anyone! He was so insignificant and yet, she was on her way over to him?! And there were more?! "I don't know what you think," he said, taking a step back. "But I am innocent of any reasons that the queen may be searching for me! And . . . who else?!" Why were people suddenly after him?! Why did Guinevère know his mother? "I think you should leave." Was she trying to set him up? Would she report to the queen that she had found him? What was this madness?!
It was understanding that by reviling her role, he would no longer look at her as a friend. Morgana had done so much damage, and it hurt to see the change in his face. The one that always happened. She felt the need to apologize, but she knew it would be pointless--why trust someone who stood at the right hand of an evil queen? "Why would she be looking for me? I have done nothing to draw the queen's attentions." Nothing but be born with the same blood in her. Uther's blood. "I--" "I don't know what you think, but I am innocent of any reasons that the queen may be searching for me! And . . . who else?!" He moved back, and she stay seated, not wanting to give him a reason to think she meant him harm. Not that she could hurt him. He was evermore stronger then she was.
"I think you should leave." Guinevère nodded, but didn't move. "Please," She hoped he saw the sincerity in her face, or heard it in her voice. "I will leave once I have give you the warning. Morgana was going through her father's papers, she found out he had a lover. A commoner. There was a child." Him. Guinevère paused, so he could let that sink in. It wouldn't be easy to hear but he needed to know the danger he was in. So he could keep himself, and his mother, safe. "She doesn't know your name, or your mothers. She only knows that the lover is in this area. Yet I fear if anyone knew who he spent time with, then she could find that connection. You are not safe here." Not yet. Not until things changed. "I wouldn't wish to see harm come to you . . . I know I offer no proof, but . . . please believe you are in danger here."
He suggested she leave and she was still sitting there. Looking calm. And then pleading with him once more saying that she would leave once she warned him. So . . . was she not handing him over to the queen?! He didn't understand! What was he to her?! What had he even done to warrant the queen's interest?! Arthur just remained silent, his mind racing as he focused on what she spoke of. "And she thinks . . . you think I know this child?! I assure you I do not! Any child of the king would be grand news and such a truth could not be remain hidden here for long." He knew of no one. His closest friends were all commoners and surely it was not true that the king had dallied with one. They all knew what came of their parents.
They were all commoners. Except perhaps Gwaine. Was it Gwaine?! Arthur knew of his noble blood but . . . oh dear. Oh dear! He should warn his friend! But then she continued . . . and that was when it all pieced together. She thought he was a what?! "What madness is this?!" He demanded to know, eyes widened with shock and realizing he had stepped far back enough that his back touched the still closed door. "Surely to speak of such things is treason!" To concoct the idea of a queen's brother! "You have no proof for it is not true! And, I will not listen to such lies." Surely, this was just a story made up by the queen's maid! But why, he hadn't the faintest idea. "If this is such sort of trap to make me admit something that is not true, I will not fall into it! I pose as no threat and . . . you need to leave!" Because he was getting increasingly nervous about just listening to these sort of things.
Guinevère watched him react, and knew that this would be hard for anyone to hear, He was taking it well, she thought--even as he told her she was trying to trap him in to saying things that would get them killed. "Yes, it is." She admitted when he said these words were treason. If they were caught, Arthur would be killed--and Guinevère . . . she didn't care think of what Morgana would do to her for betraying her. Morgana saw Guinevère as a loyal friend and servant to the crown. The double betrayal would put a wrath unlike any other on her head.
Guinevère stood, and moved toward the door. She knew she needed something to prove that she spoke the truth but could think of nothing. "Please, if you believe nothing else, believe that I tell you this to keep you from harm . . . not to trap you. Because telling you is the right thing to do." She used his words from before, hoping he'd understand that much as least. Pausing at the door she turned to looked back at him. "Morgana only knows parts. The letters that Uther had that spoke of his son and lover were burned to keep the names from her. Uther didn't want to acknowledge his son, but he nor did he want to abandon him. You mother should have a letter from the king. I think he wanted her to use it to come work in the castle, but she never came. Please ask her." She didn't want to just leave, so she stayed there by the door waiting to see if he would ask her to leave again.
When she moved towards the door, Arthur didn't look at her. But he did listen, as she spoke of how telling him had been the right thing to do. He did not fail to notice her word choice, but nor did it make any sense still. "I am nothing to you," he told her. He was but a stranger. "I am no one of significance. Yet, you still risk such words that place you in danger." He didn't understand that. She was the queen's maid. A servant to her. Possibly for quite some time. And, whatever -- whomever -- she thought he was, he was not worth anyone risking committing treason over.
His jaw clenched when she spoke of the letter, and to ask his mother. He didn't tell her that his mother was dead, and made no attempt to now. Instead, he just pushed open the door, still avoiding eye contact with her and waited for her to step out before closing the door behind her. His hands braced against it, while his head fell between his shoulders. Closing his eyes, trying to process what she just said . . . but no! Why process something that was not true?! He was unsure how many hours he spent in the forge. He only knew that by the time he stepped out of it, it was dark, and he cautiously made his way to his home. He felt more on edge than ever. So much so that he had taken a sword with him for the walk home, concealed under his cloak, hood raised to hide his face.
He didn't feel any relief until he was in the safety of his home's walls, and began to remove the cloak, setting his sword on the table. Guinevère's words were still on his mind. A letter. He should look -- no, why bother! It was all a lie! But then . . . well, perhaps he should just do it to prove her wrong! Not that he had any intention of ever seeing her again. He felt frustrated and decided to just get it over with. He still had a trunk of his mother's belongings. While he knew he could get good coin for her dresses and items, he hadn't the heart to dispose of them. It was all he had left of his mother. He searched within it, any small boxes, in between the cloth, everywhere. But he found no such letter. Why was he even surprised?!
Starting to neatly put things back in their place, he came across the blanket his mother had made for him when was a baby. A sentimental item that he smiled sadly upon seeing. He held it in his fingers, the softness in contrast to his worn hands. He had looked at it many a times, but not since his mother's death. Which was perhaps why he only now noticed an alteration in the stitching. Curiosity crossed him, having had memorized every inch of this keepsake, but . . . these stitches looked almost new. He carefully tore the stitch, the rest of the thread of that corner coming apart easily enough . . . as if it was meant to be opened. That, was where he saw a folded piece of paper. His heart beat heavier in his chest, almost afraid to open it. Swallowing, nervous, fearful . . . he eventually did. And the words he read, brought tears to his eyes. She had written it on her deathbed.
Whilst sick and knowing she would be leaving this world, these had been the last ones -- stating in the letter that she lacked the courage to physically speak them to him. He was the song of the king. She seemed to believe he had some sort of destiny, a chance to make Camelot great and yet . . . Arthur desired none of it. A tear from his eyes fell onto the paper and he immediately tried to dab it off, so not to spoil it. It was a dangerous paper to hold, yet he lacked the strength to destroy it. And so he read it, over and over and over again . . . until the sun rose. Until he heard the bustle of people outside. No. He would not do anything. He was not anything. He was merely an insignificant blacksmith. And would remain as one. So, with that determination in mind, he freshened up, tucked away the letter onto his person, and returned to his forge to complete a day's work.
"I am nothing to you, I am no one of significance. Yet, you still risk such words that place you in danger." Guinevère knew his words to be untrue. "Every life holds significance." She believed that. Guinevère left, as requested, and prayed he'd take heed of her warning.
The following day, Guinevère helped Morgana do her hair, and dress. She helped begin packing her things away--and that was what she was doing when she over heard the order for the men to rather. She knew the name now. The local nobleman had made the deal with the evil queen to spare his life for the name. "I am going to the field to pick flowers," she told one of the other servants, and Guinevère began to walk (quickly) out of the estate. She saw Sir Bors, a knight who was older and well seasoned. She needed to get past him.
'Is it true? Is there a son of Uther in this town?' he asked sounding troubled, and Guinevère nodded, "Yes, my lord" Bors was a good man, but she wasn't sure she could trust him. She knew that he was friends with Sir Leon, however. Sir Bors looked up at the estate, thinking only for a moment before deciding his fate. Reaching over he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward his horse. Guinevère felt a moment's panic, before she realized what he was going! 'Go! Ride and get him out! I will slow them down!' He lifted her up and smacked the horse on the rear, sending Guinevère riding out!
She rode toward the market, only knowing one place to find him. As she slowed outside the forge, she all but fell off. She'd never been on a horse before. Running to the door she opened it without knocking. "Arthur!"
Arthur was moving slower than usual. He hadn't even properly open the shop, his mind far too distracted. Too troubled. The true reveal of his father incredibly unsettling. The truth of his birth. His life would have been so different, and yet, he would not have it any other way than what it was. The sound of what he could have sworn was hooves approaching broke him from his thoughts.
It was only seconds later that Guinevère burst through the door, looking frantic as she called his name. Arthur did not move towards her, though there was indeed concern. "What are you doing here?" He questioned. He didn't want any trouble! He didn't want to be part of these games! He didn't want to be a bloody king! "Why can't you leave me well enough alone?" He questioned rhetorically. Yesterday, he had been a humble blacksmith. Today . . . no! Today, he was still a blacksmith. He just needed all of this to go away so he could resume with his life. The only life he had ever known.
Guinevère moved toward him an grabbed his hand, "Please! Morgana has found out that you are here, and she is sending men! We must leave! I have a horse, and you need to go!" She pulled at his hand but unless he was going to move willingly she couldn't move him. She knew blaksmiths were strong, so she didn't even try. She needed to try to use her words to convince him.
"You need to leave! Quickly! Even if you don't believe that you are the son of Uther Pendragon, believe that Morgana believes you are! Please believed that she fears what this means for her power, and that she will do anything to keep it! Please believe that I am trying to protect you, and please get on the horse and disappear! I am begging you!!" She said as she tugged on his arm, and looked behind her, fearing they would be coming soon. Bors was only one man. She knew Morgana's wrath would be here soon! "Ride! Run! PLEASE!"
Arthur didn't move at first and yet . . . there was something in her tone. In her expression. In her demeanour. An undeniable sincerity. Arthur hoped it wasn't him being naive. He hoped that he would not regret currently putting his trust in her hands. But . . . he had lived his life trusting his instincts, and this was no exception. He could only pray it did not betray him. "This is madness," he stated, and instead of walking to the door, he walked further into the forge. Only to grab a sword as he quickly put his sword belt around him to sheath it. To leave this place . . . and go who know's where. No. He would return.
He wasn't even thinking of anything like that right now. Only to get out of here. Once armed, he could hear someone in the distance shouting that the Queen was making way to the city. It nearly set everyone in a panic. Both fear and need to accommodate her majesty. For Arthur, he merely knew it was his cue to get out. He made his way out of the forge, and quickly making way to the horse. She had said that they must leave and that was good enough for him as he helped her mount the steed. Besides, if she was left here and the queen was to discover what could happen, she'd be killed for treason. Arthur had no intention of leaving her behind and having that blood on his hands. Once Guinevère was on the horse, he mounted himself and flicked the reigns, squeezing his heels into the horse's sides as it set off into a run through the already panicked city.
Guinevère wasn't going to complain that he was moving right now, she was just glad he was. He held her on the horse, and mounted up as well. His strong arms came around her to grab the reigns while he set the horse in motion. She turned to look behind them, and watched as the forge disappeared into the distance. Guinevère didn't even ask where they were going. She didn't care as long as they were going.
After a few moments she heard the sounds of a house behind them. Turning to look she saw one of Morgana's trusted men behind her. He wasn't a knight but one of her hired men. She'd hired a small army from Helios to help her control the kingdom, when it was clear not every knight would swear loyalty to her--that some would rather die. "We're found," she said, so he'd be aware they were being chased. This horse carried two, so there wasn't a way they could out ride him.
Arthur urged the horse as fast as it could run, the forge, the city . . . everything he knew falling more and more behind him. At a distance. Moving out of sight. But now was not the time to mourn such a thing. Surely, he would be able to go back someday soon. When this entire thing was over. Hell, he didn't even know what this thing was. Guinevère spoke of how they were found, and Arthur could hear the hooves approaching. This was madness indeed! He knew it could be a knight behind them, or perhaps someone else. What he knew for certain was that he had managed to find them when the rest of the army that Morgana brought had not. That indicated his level of skill.
Trying to assess the man, Arthur feared more what he was about to do. Not because he was afraid the man would kill him. But because . . . Arthur knew he would be forced to take a life. He suddenly pulled at the reigns, causing the horse to come to an abrupt halt and raise its front legs up. Arthur was rather glad that Guinevère was in front as he was able to keep her on the horse from it's suddenly action. With that, he swiftly dismounted and pulled out his sword. "Go!" He demanded, his hand hitting the horse to move it forward. He needed her out of harm's way for this and with any luck . . . they would have two horses to ride out with. Arthur stood, facing the man, sword out and ready as his eyes narrowed. The man was not slowing his horse. In fact, he was riding faster with his target in sight. He didn't dress as a knight. He looked more like an assassin.
His sword was also extended while Arthur's feet remained firmly in place. Expression stoic, grip tightened on the hilt of his weapon. Yet his heart was beating so fast he could have sworn it would explode from his chest. It was coming. The impact. With just a few seconds to go . . . Arthur swung his sword and swayed to the side just in time to slice at the stirrups, causing the man to lose his balance and fall to the side, tumbling off the horse. It wasn't enough to keep the man down, as he scrambled to his feet. Arthur turned around to face him. The two of them seemed to watch each other for a moment before the other man moved first, charging at him. Arthur watched him, getting a feel for the way he fought. His footwork. The way he swung his sword. He was favouring one side more than the other, most likely due to his fall. But, Arthur took advantage of the weakness. This fight needed to be over quickly so that they could create more distance between them and the building threat. The clanging of swords filled the air as
Arthur ducked and swerved, remaining on the side that the man was trying to put less weight on which was also where Arthur administered his attacks. It took one well calculated blow and a second of lowered guard where Arthur inserted his sword into the man's side. A sound of pain escaped him as the man fell to his knees. Arthur looked at him, directly in the eyes and on the blacksmith's face . . . was sympathy. Guilt. Sadness. He pulled the sword out causing the man to complete his collapse as he fell motionless to the floor. Arthur just stared at him for a long moment, the heavy beating of his heart doing nothing to slow. He dropped his sword, as if it was on fire and staggered a couple of steps back. He had just killed a man.
Guinevère let out a little scream when he stopped the horse! "What are you doing?!" She yelled the question, and held on as he climbed down. Then he smacked the horse, which made it take off at a run! WHY DID MEN DO THAT?! She held on as the horse started to run, and she slowed it, only to turn back and watch the fight! THE HORSE WAS GOING TO RUN HIM DOWN! Only . . . it didn't! The hired man tried to finish the job, but he was unable too. Arthur had skill beyond the making of swords.
Riding up to him, she climbed down, and walked over to him. He looked horrified by what he'd just done. Guinevère hated that for him. She wished she could spare him this. Sadly she'd seen so much death. Clearly he had not taken a life before. "You need to go," she said gently, knowing this wasn't easy for him. Moving to pick up his sword, she handed it to him, not letting it go in case he wasn't ready to take it. "Arthur, you need to go." She needed to go back and make sure Sir Leon found out about him. She'd have to pray Morgana didn't yet know of her part. She'd left before others saw Bors putting her on the horse. "There is a castle of the ancient kings. Go there. I can send some trusted friends to help make sure you're safe." Reaching for him, she gave a pull to help him get moving. "Arthur, the others could come." Her voice was soft, trying to be comforting, but imploring him to keep moving.
Arthur noticed Guinevère approach though his eyes did not move from the corpse. He could hear her saying that he needed to go, urging him with a softness but strength in her voice to leave. He could see the sword she held from the corner of his eye, yet it felt like the weight of it was too great. Without thought, he reached out to hold it. Yes. It felt heavier than before. He fought back the tears, just looking at the man. What if he had been someone's husband? Someone's brother? Someone's husband? Someone's father? And he had just claimed his life, as if he had a right to do that.
Blinking a few times to try and steady his emotions, Guinevère's words of sending others quickly registered in his mind. "No," he stated. "No one else will be put at risk." He looked at Guinevère, suddenly hating himself for this. For killing a man. For putting people at risk. "Don't you understand that I want no part of this." He had no desire to be king. He had no desire to have people protect him. It was bad enough that she had placed herself at such risk! "Thank you for what you have done, but this is where it ends." He would find a way to evade the queen. He would have to find a new home. But it was not going to be in the heart of Camelot. "No one else will be endangered because of me," he said stubbornly, looking at the body again and knowing this was blood that he could never wash off his hands.
It was foolish, and stupid. Yet she could not help it. Yesterday she thought she liked him, and today she knew that she'd do anything for him. He was good. In his heart and in his head he was good! She wished he was nothing but a blacksmith, and someone else was ruling Camelot, and things were different. She could love him. Instead she would do the most foolish thing she could think of.
"Then go." She said, a bit surprised the words came out. Reaching up to touch his face she turned him to look at her. "Arthur, go. They haven't see you. They don't know your face. You can disappear now, if you go. Ride away and don't look back." It was his chance to go. His chance to disappear. To take no part in this.
"You don't have to be apart of anything. Morgana is queen, and she is hateful and curl. She kills anyone who threatens that power. Even her own men. She killed her own father, Arthur." His father, "The people here live in fear. You've felt it. In a weeks time there will be men at the castle i spoke of. If you don't want this then disappear. Chance your name, and go somewhere no one knows you! If not, then go there, and hear them out. You could save everyone." It was a risk but she already decided her loyalty. Like Bors, she knew her fate. "You could be the king this kingdom needs." She moved back from him, "But only if you go now. Only if you live!"
She told him to go, and the thought was indeed a tempting one. To find a new home, change his name . . . start over. She spoke of how the people lived in fear of a tyrant queen. He had been one such person. But, that didn't mean he had the power to change it. How could he even begin to do so?! He had no means to overthrow a queen who . . . she was his sister. Half sister but still a blood relative. Just as the king had been his father. Arthur wasn't even certain the full extent of this truth had sunk in. Had fully processed in the wake of everything that had happened. "I'm sorry," he apologized.
"I can not be the king that you hope for. The king that Camelot needs." A king who would fix everything and give the people a life of peace and prosperity that they deserved. No. He was too weak for that. Too inexperienced. He knew nothing and held no power nor the knowledge for it. "I'm . . . sorry." And he felt guilty for it. That she had sacrificed so much, in vain. "That you're wrong about me." Perhaps that was what he was truly apologizing for; the risk she took and the undeserving being she had risked so much for. He could not save everyone. But, he also made no move to leave for there was still one very important thing on his mind. "What about you?" Because fact was, she had risked a lot. She had risked her life. "What will happen to you?" He could not just leave her here at the mercy of a queen who had killed so many for far less.
"I think you already are," she told him, when he claimed he could not be the king she hoped for. "To that little boy yesterday, you already are. You could help all of them, Arthur. You could make sure no one lived in fear. That children didn't starve in the riches kingdom. That good men didn't die while protecting the weak." Yet what she was asking of him, would change him. He didn't like to see death, and taking the crown meant fighting a war.
He asked about her, and she didn't know. It was a risk going back, yes, but one she had to take. She couldn't walk away from the kingdom. She couldn't stop helping people. "I've been MOrgana's maid since we were children. She used to be kind, and we were friends. She still believes we are. I can help people by staying by her side. I can make sure she doesn't find you." She was going behind Morgana's back a lot, and she knew the risk. One day she would pay the price, but until then. "Besides, I've not lost hope that there is good in this world. As long as I believe it, I have to stay and keep it going." He had the chance to disappear, but she couldn't take it. "As long as the knights believe you are out there, they will keep that hope too."
She spoke of the incident at the market. Saying that she could help them all and . . . how he wished that were true. How he wished he could help everyone as simply as he had helped that boy. But he couldn't. He had no . . . knowledge of any of this. He was but a simple blacksmith! And this world, was not one he was familiar with. His mother had kept him out of it for a reason. She never once made claim and even though it had been because of the king's preference, she did not bring him to the city as requested. It was to protect him, Arthur knew that, but it also left him helpless and useless in this regard. "I wish that were true," he told her, wanting her to know that if he felt for even a moment that he could do this, that he could help so many on such a large scale . . . that he would.
Arthur listened to her explain that she had to stay by Morgana's side. That she had to help people where she could. It was a noble thing to do but Arthur found himself worrying for her. Fearful, that her actions yesterday and today would endanger the trust the queen seemed to have in her. "You place too much faith in me. I'm not the man you or the others hope me to be." Everyone had that thought of what they would do if they were in charge, but now that it was a reality . . . Arthur didn't want that. He feared it would only hinder the kingdom. "I wish you the best. And I'm sorry, that I have disappointed you." He meant it. "Truly, sorry." He moved towards the horse and mounted it, looking at her, still reluctant to leave. "Take care of yourself, Guinevère." He hoped that she would. He hoped that she would remain safe. She had saved his life today and that was not a debt he knew he could ever fully repay. Yet the longer he kept her here, the greater risk it posed to her.
"The last thing you've done is disappoint me. I will never forget you, Arthur Pendragon." She told him not to freak him out, but so he knew she'd believed in him. Knowing that he would stay with her for the rest of her life. As both the almost king, and the blacksmith that she had liked. The perfect combination of everything she needed to know was out there. He mounted his horse, and she lifted her hand to wave. She could not speak to say goodbye. Turning, she began walking back toward the city, and she held her breath until she heard the hooves take him away. It was done. She knew that she'd not be able to find him after this. He was fear of this life, and the knowlage that he was out there would keep hope alive.
What she hadn't expected, was to find chaos upon her return. "My lady," Guinevère spoke to Morgana, seeing everyone running about. Guinevère had picked flowers on her way back, and now set them down on the table. She had done this for years, since they were children. Morgana was used to Guinevère's love of flowers and picking them to put all over the place. "What has happened?" Morgana looked at her, and ignored the flowers, her mood too dark to bother. 'Sir Bors has betrayed us. He helped my brother escape. He could be out there right now gathering men to fight me!' If she only knew how little Arthur wanted to be part of this.
"Then you should return back to the Citadel, so you can protect." Guinevère suggested, making it the one that didn't lead her to finding Arthur. Morgana smiled, 'You are my only friend, Gwen.' Guinevère made herself smile back, wishing it was that simple. Wishing her friend was back. "I am just loyal to the true ruler of Camelot, my lady. Shall I pack your things?"
Arthur Pendragon. The name was unsettling to hear and yet, it stuck with him. He gave her a nod before turning the horse and riding as far away from here as it could take him. Where he would go . . . he hadn't the faintest idea. He didn't stop until the horse required rest, and with the sun going down, decided it was best to make camp for the night. He had nothing with him apart from his sword. He would have to find a way to make coin. To start over. The thought was daunting, and terrifying, yet what other choice did he have. He rested for a couple of hours before setting out again, riding further and further away from all he had ever known. The second night, he stopped long enough to make a fire.
The air was too cold to get by without one. But each rustling of a leaf, or breaking of a branch, had him on edge. He pulled out his mother's letter, reading it again and again and again. Memorizing every single word. Understanding them, and the intention behind her actions. She did not keep him from that life to deprive him of being king. She did it, to protect him from Uther's corruption. The faith she held in him even in the letter, was . . . well, Arthur knew what it was. Undeserved. He raised the letter to his lips in a kiss, and whispered an apology to his mother before he burned it. It was safer this way. Much safer.
The next day of travelling brought him to a small town. He was nearing the border of another kingdom and was eager to get out of Camelot. As he entered a tavern, he almost immediately overheard conversation that caused him to pause. The queen had apparently gathered those who she believed to have betrayed her by aiding her brother. She was to make a public show of it for all to see . . . in the heart of Camelot. Arthur felt sick to his stomach. People dying because she believed they had helped him? But, there was only one name that stuck in Arthur's mind: Guinevère. Was she among them? Was she safe? He tried to brush it off, believing that she would be ok. But . . . believing, hoping . . . it wasn't enough. He needed to see for himself.
He needed to make sure of it. She had risked everything to save him and he had walked away. He could not risk leaving her at the mercy of the tyrant queen. Arthur knew then and there what he had to do. He reversed his journey, riding back to the town he was from only to grab a few supplies. His trip was quick, though upon entering his home, he saw everything in disarray. As if they had ransacked it looking for evidence of the bastard son of Uther. Arthur didn't linger long, grabbing a few things so that he could set off to the one place he never thought he'd go to, nor held any desire to go to: the capital of Camelot.
Morgana did return tot he castle, and her dark mood stayed with her the whole way back. She questioned how they knew about her brother. Who they were. How many of her men needed to be replaced by her hired men, in order to make sure she didn't live in a castle of traitors and spies. Guinevère stayed silent the whole trip, pretending to not have the answers Morgana sought.
Yet, it wasn't long before the dark mood, turned to dark intent. Morgana became paranoid that Arthur already had spies in her castle, and men were already loyal to him! It became worse, when rumors began to fly around the kingdom, faster then a wild fire--Uther had a son! The people whispered about it, and Morgana grew angry! How did one fight something that no one spoke of around you? In her anger, she began gathering up the men she thought were not showing the proper loyalty to her, and the ones she blamed for helping Arthur escape. She locked them up in the dungeon below, so she could use them to find Arthur. Guinevère knew this would turn into another moment when Morgana begin lieing men up and executing them. And she felt helpless to stop it!
Bidding Morgana goodnight, Guinevère began walking home. As usual, here in the capital there wasn't many who stopped to speak to her. Most assumed she was like Morgana, and left her alone. Fearing that if she told Morgana on them, they too would find the queen's wrath on them.
My name is Catherine by the way; Call me Kate. *Smiles* You're lucky to have your mother, I ... wish I had at least someone I can talk to, You know? At least i have Arthur. *sits by the window and looks out*
Sunkissed Paradise Crafted By Alisha A 2014 Adoxography Exclusive
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