Wide awake in a Nightmare (Arthur)

[Brynn Reade]

As soon as they had entered the kitchen Arthur was all but forgotten. For Brynn there was only one concern now, getting her family to a safe place. Like in trance she moved through the vast room to check on each of them she could make out from the bodies lying around everywhere. Her mother Meghan had been sitting at a table peeling carrots, now her head was resting on her left arm, the right holding the kitchen knife was dangerously close to her cheek. Without a second thought Brynn gently took the knife from her mother’s hand and placed it on the table, the edge turned away so if she twitched in her sleep she would not hurt herself. Resting her hand on Meghan’s shoulder for a moment, she muttered.
“Sleep on, mom, you deserve it. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything!”

Her eyes scanned the surroundings and settled on a corner where two children lay on a little heap of straw, both redheads. They seemed to have fallen asleep in mid combat over what Brynn realised was Gyrth’s wooden sword and Elinor’s smashed flower wreath. Kneeling down beside them, the elder girl pushed a sweaty strand of hair from the girl’s face, smiling in wonder what might have been the source of this little fight. Usually her little siblings got on very well.
Then she heard Prince Arthur speaking in her back and turned her head around for a split second. Moving them to her chambers? That was a very kind suggestion, one she wouldn’t have expected of this man, judging from the way they had argued with each other just minutes ago. But he was right, time was wasting! Kneeling so close to the ground and crouched low made her think of how cozy it would be to just to lie down for a mere minute… just a minute…

With great effort she forced herself to snap out of it, pinching her forearm hard.
“Thank you for this offer, your Highness!” she said, stiffling a yawn, then bending over to take sleeping Elinor into her arms and then stand up unsteadily. “But I think my parent’s room might be better, it’s bigger!”
Adjusting the weight of the six year old girl, she quickly pressed her lips on her damp red hair then lead the way into a narrow corridor that would bring them to the servant’s quarters. Brynn wondered if the Prince had ever been down here. It didn’t seem likely, he had no business in the servant’s quarters.
More people were lying in the narrow passageway and it got more and more difficult not to step on anyone in the dim light.
“Crazy… this is just crazy… just like the distortion of a fairytale”, she muttered. “Only that I hope this enchantment doesn’t last a hundred years.”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Identifying her family, Arthur put his sword back in its holder and moved towards her mother. Brynn had already scooped up one of the children, so instead, he would take her mother. He picked her up in his arms and looked around once more, still making sure that there was no one else about before following Brynn's lead to her parents rooms. Arthur could normally pick someone up -- especially a woman -- with more ease than right now, but considering his already weakened -- and progressively weakening state -- it took at least double the amount of energy. He was collecting all the strength he could so that he would not drop her or just fall asleep on the spot.

He was also making sure it appeared that carrying her to their destination was not a struggle, though he was rather certain Brynn knew exactly how he felt . . . for sure must be feeling the same way, and experiencing the same intense exhaustion. And to make matters worse, it was slowly turning into some sort of obstacle course, for there were people scattered about. Furthermore, he did not have his sword, and he did not have the easiest, most convenient access to it. It would involve having to suddenly drop the sleeping woman in his arms, and that could cause her injury -- even if she would not be aware of it until she was awake. They had to move quickly, and yet the caution they also had to use was slowing them down.

"It shouldn't," Arthur said rather confidently. "Whoever did this would have not have gone through all this trouble if they intended to rule a kingdom without people." They would have killed the people while they waltz through the streets. This was just to make it easier to kill the king. To kill the royal family ruling Camelot. Arthur had absolutely no doubt about that. "They'll probably wake up in due time," he added, continuing to stand by his belief of what he thought was logical, and trying to explain to Brynn that this was all only very temporary.

[Brynn Reade]

It was such an odd sight, seeing her mother being carried by none other than Crown Prince Arthur himself. What would Meghan think of it? How many women could claim that, after all! But then again, Brynn’s mother was a down-to-earth type and she was past the giggling years. Most likely she would just shrugg it off and resume to her many daily tasks – given she even believed her daughter after she woke up. That wasn’t so sure at all, as Brynn didn’t even want to believe it herself. Yes of course, every servant dreamt of actually being noticed by royalty or nobles one day, and not to be scolded, but praised, but living it like this? In this very moment Brynn would have traded every single minute of this encounter for an ordinary day. Still… she had seen a different side of the prince by now, a side that cared for his people. Why else would he stoop down to help her?

But actually thinking about such things got more difficult by the second as she still had to put one foot infront of the other and at the same time carry the sleeping Elinor. Two things she could handle still at the same time, but not three, and as carrying and walking were the most important right now, she simply dismissed her pondering and concentrated on finding her way around all the people lying on the ground. She trusted Arthur to keep an eye out for unwelcome company, he was the warrior after all, Brynn was only a peaceful goosemaiden.
After what seemed like ten miles they finally reached the right door and Brynn leaned against it heavily, pushing it backwards with all the strength she had left – which was not much. She even had to stay in the open door for a few seconds, panting heavily and blinking rapidly. Her arms and legs felt like made of stone.

It was good the prince started talking again, as it kept Brynn’s mind of her fatigue as she more clumsily than gently laid her little sister down on the side of the double bed where her father usually slept.
“Well, if you think we ‘people’ would just trade one master for the other, then you’re mistaken!” It would have come across more defiantly hadn’t she been so extremely tired. “They might spare us because they need someone to pamper their posteriors, but they will realise the meaning of loyalty.” She shrugged, realising she probably sounded just like her father. “We are citizens of Camelot, and Camelot is to be ruled by the Pendragons. End of story.”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Carrying her should not be so difficult, but Arthur felt himself growing massively, increasingly weak. This was not good. He needed to alert himself awake. He needed to be able to protect the king for the immortal soldiers probably were not far. It wouldn't take them long to find out where they were hiding. All their hope remained on Morgana's ability to remember what was in the potion, and Merlin's ability to recreate it. It was a long shot, but it was all they had. They would not last much longer. Arthur could not leave Morgana awake among all of this. What if they killed her? She was skilled with a sword, yes . . . but she could not fight off this army, or the sorcerer behind it. What if they wished to get rid of her? The thought terrified him. And he truly hoped that such frightening thoughts of possible scenarios would keep him awake long enough to fight this spell off . . . somehow.

When they got to the room, Arthur followed her inside, scanning the area. It could indeed be a good place to hide his father. But it was also too far from where he was. He could barley carry her mother there. And of course there was that whole issue of putting her and her family at risk. While he still was confident in his assumptions about their plans, who knew if the knights would try to kill others in the same room as the king. He was not going to risk her family's life to find out. He was not going to risk any citizen of Camelot's life. There had to be a another way. There had to be some sort of weakness in this spell that they could find and use to break it. Hopefully, Merlina and Morgana were having better luck than he was in finding out.

He lay her down on the bed, breathing heavily as he attempted to catch his breath. With the back of his gloved hand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, pushing his hair back. Brynn's next words forced a smalls smile on his lips. He looked at her, recognizing that for once, he was appreciative of her stubbornness. For this display of stubbornness was one that proved just how loyal she was to Camelot, and to the legitimate ruling family. Arthur preferred to befriend the people of Camelot, rather than always be expectant of their loyalty . . . it had to be earned to some extent. So to hear her now, speaking this way, so certain of her inability to accept another person as the ruler of Camelot, created a respect he felt for her, and gratitude.

"Then you will not be disappointed," he told her, shifting his gaze from her to her mother as he stood up from his more crouched position. To hear her speak so strongly about the rightful rulers, was oddly enough, just the thing he needed to make himself more alert and awake. He would have thought it would have taken another encounter with one of the knights to jolt him into wakefulness, but no . . . it was her words that did the job. "Camelot will not fall to another ruler," he added with strong confidence, furthering his belief in their capabilities to defeat this spell. He looked back at her. "Is there anyone else you need moved here?" He asked, wanting to make sure that her family was all together, so that if she too succumbed to the strong spell, the she would be in a restful slumber, surrounded by her loved ones.

[Brynn Reade]

Barely Brynn could lift her heavy and numb arms to once again stroke a strand of hair from the forehead of the little girl lying in front of her. Her eyelids felt like they were held down by massive fists on her eyes, it took the greatest efforts imaginable to keep them open. She was panting as heavy as Prince Arthur did, like they both just had done a race for miles with a large millstone round their necks. Had Elinor ever felt this heavy? She was used to carry her sister around since the day she had been born! Of course, now that she was eight, she insisted on a little more 'dignity' and mostly refused to be taken up in someone's arms – apart from her father's of course – so it had been a while since Brynn last had beared her sister's full weight. But that was not the cause of it, it was this cursed spell! Truly, sometimes the goosemaiden could understand most people's fear and hatred of magic, if it was used for such troublesome things!

At least her bold statement had not vexed the prince, in fact, he seemed to be pleased, he even smiled despite the circumstances. That was something! Someone else might have added something to confirm this statement further, showing just how very loyal she was, but in such aspects Brynn was like her father. She said it once and she meant it, but she would not fuss about her sense of loyalty. For her it was self-explanatory
It was also self-evident Arthur should do his very best to keep the balance of power as it was, he could not afford to do any less. What would become of Camelot without him as a king to look forward to? Despite all the arrogance he might show from afar, this incident had changed Brynn's views on him for the better. He would be a good king – if he lived through all the danger awaiting him

„You better keep this promise“, she said and got up from the bed with great effort, looking like an old woman with back ache. „Or I'll hold you personally responsible – what's left of you anyway...“ she trailed off, realising with a jolt of unease that sent her bolt awake for a second, just how dangerous it was to not pay attention to one's mouth. She couldn't speak to him like that! He was still royalty, and she nothing but a servant!
„Forgive me, your Highnes... can I blame it on not being able to think straight? It won't happen again... as long as I still know what I'm doing that is…”

Arthur's question took her off guard. One part of it was easy to answer, the other needed more consideration than she felt up to at the moment. What should she do? What could she possibly do? Prince Arthur had saved her life, helped her getting here unscathed, not to mention had taken it upon him to carry a kitchen maid to her quarters so she’d be safe… how could she possibly demand more of him?
“My brother Gyrth is still where I took Elinor from”, she reminded the prince and then shrugged with a weary sigh. “And my father’s down in the courtyard with his fellow soldiers. But that’s too dangerous, we can’t get there unseen… and I can’t risk your life any more than I have already. It’s you and your father they want! I’ll just have to hope for the best!”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur did not take well to threats . . . especially ones made like that; talking about the remainders of his body. Had she not immediately apologized after wards, Arthur's patience would have worn thin and he probably would have just left. But she did apologize. And her explanation for her words were rather acceptable. Both of them were under the influence of this spell; it had caused them to be short with each other. Even if he was the Prince, it was difficult to think of such things when a person was using what little strength they had to remain conscious. So he would excuse her words, and only hope that if he ever came across her again, that she would be radically different. He knew he would be as well. Only time would tell just how different their interactions would be . . . for he was still going under the assumption that the kingdom would be saved from the wrath of this sorcerer, whomever they may be.

"Its fine," he said once she apologized, in a tone that more so indicated that he understood the difficulty in keeping a level head and controlling ones words. "I know the feeling," he added with a very subtle smile. here was no need to draw any more attention on that so instead, he focused on her answer to his question. "Your father will be alright. Trust me." It was all he could say to convince her that her father would not be harmed, for he was fairly certain of it. Besides, she seemed to acknowledge and accept the fact that this spell was a way to kill both him and his father. "I will check on him if I can. But I am certain he is alive, just under the influence of the spell like the others." In his ventures around the quarters of the castle to find a place to hide his father, he would have to keep checking to make sure everyone was alive anyway.

"What is your brother wearing? I will go get him," he told her. There were a few people in the kitchen so he just wanted to make sure he didn't use what little effort he had to bring back the wrong body. Once they were all together in the room, perhaps she would find solace in that fact and allow herself to succumb to the spell. "Then just remain here, and you don't have to keep fighting to stay awake," he added, not as a command, but more so as an assurance. That he would find a way to wake everyone up. And when that happened, things would go back to normal for Camelot would no longer be in any danger. Well, this kind of danger. There was always some sort of threat, but they managed to eliminate them . . . one at a time.

[Brynn Reade]

That had been a close call indeed. Had she been in different circumstances, Brynn might now very well be on her way to the dungeons or being put into the stocks for insulting his very Royal Highness Prince Arthur. Thank the stars he seemed to be in a lenient mood. Hmm… then again, what she had thrown at him earlier when she had been suffering from her claustrohobic fit had probably been ever so much worse. She didn’t remember, and didn’t want to. Even the sheer reminiscence of the dark narrow corridor brought cold sweat back on her forehead.
And then he was even smiling and telling her he knew the feeling. Well, that was definitely something. A prince telling a goosemaiden he knew how she felt – that was too odd a feeling! Had the situation been any different, Brynn might have even laughed. But right now she was simply too bothered about other things… and too tired by far!

“Thank you, your Highness”, she said for maybe the one hundreth time in this whole encounter. And indeed, she could not thank him enough. For even bothering to care for her considerably little troubles when the future of his kingdom and therefore his very own future was at stake. But in that case Prince Arthur was truly different from his father. “I know he will be fine, as I have full confidence in your ability to solve this problem.” She was not sweettalking him. She said it in such a fashion that made clear she meant every word. She couldn’t be bothered thinking anything but the truth up right now anyway. Far too exhausting. “I just wish there was more I could do to help.” Oh yes, Brynn hated feeling helpless, but she knew she probably had only minutes left until she had to succumb to the sleeping spell. She didn’t have the steel intent of a warrior after all.

At his next question, Brynn racked her brains, trying to wade through the fog that muddled up her mind. What had Gyrth been wearing again? Probably his treasured green tunic… or was it the brown one? It would have been easy to just refer to him as another redhead and therefore easy to distinguish from other possibly boys his age – but Brynn couldn’t think in easy paths right now.“Uh…” she murmured and furrowed her brows in annoyance at herself, “I can’t think! I … better show you instead…” Trudging past Prince Arthur she made her way down the corridor again which suddenly seemed twice as long. It’s over soon… that was the only thought keeping her upright and going at the moment. Only once down and back again… then you can rest…

[Arthur Pendragon]

The way she spoke to him, from the words of respect she used, to the tone of voice . . . showed that they had indeed managed to surpass all their feelings of agitation and annoyance; not necessarily towards each other, but over the entire situation. Of course, their only outlet had been lashing out at one another, but it seemed to subside at this point. He just gave a short nod. Though he could not help but feel honored in her confidence in him. Before, it had been about convincing her that they could resolve the situation. But now, she was telling him that she had the utmost confidence in him. Even coming from a goose maiden, it meant a great deal to the prince. It went back to the whole notion of not only being the people's sovereign but also their friends. His father thought this untrue, but today's events proved that it was possible. That all it took was a little extra effort. While he was not sure he would go as far as to yet call her a friend . . . he had earned her respect. And that was something.

"Thank you," he said, in a softer voice than usual, only somewhat reflective of how such words from others gave him hope that he would be a good king. "You have done more than enough," he told her reassuringly. "You should not have to find these creatures. Stay with your family, remain safe." It was not her responsibility. It was his. He was the one meant to protect the people . . . she should not have to, and he would not permit her to put herself in any further danger. Though, her next words left him conflicted. She had shown that she was determined so even if he asked her that it was not necessary to come . . . she would still want to. And it may be easier if she did for then he would not have to go through each person, guessing which one was her brother. He did not have the time or energy for that.

"Very well," he said in a slightly regretful voice. "We shall make this quick then, so you can return as son as possible." He pulled out his sword once again, pausing for a moment. He leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath, but the desire to just give up seemed to be too great. His heavy eye lids began to close, the sensation to close his eyes and just keep them that way, was overwhelming. The comfort that he got when they were closed, unimaginably relaxing. It felt so good. To just, close them. To just allow himself to succumb to this. To . . . slip into state of sleep . . . just . . . for . . . a few moments.

[[ Feel free to slap him to wake him up ! HAHA! ]]

[Brynn Reade]

Stay safe… it’s good… you’ve done more than enough… oh he probably had no idea how much these words moved Brynn in the weakened state she was. Finally someone telling her, she really had done all she could do in these trying circumstances, reassuring her also that it would be over soon. She had not hoped for any of this, and receiving it was more than she could possibly bear. Maybe that was a good thing, because as she struggled to keep composed she forgot about the monsters and the creeping tiredness for a little moment. Yes, it was official now, Arthur Pendragon would make a good king one day, and Brynn hoped she would be around that day to see him crowned and cheer along with everyone else. This odd encounter had changed her from indifferent on who the one on the throne really was, to a fervent supporter of a glorious future to come. He needn’t know that though… after all, his self-respect was still a little too high in some places, as she remembered from seeing him training the knights. And the way he treated Merlin sometimes… but as long as Merlin himself was not willing to complain, who was she to interfere anyway?

Maybe it was significant to the new kind of understanding they had reached, he didn’t deny her the suggestion of showing him who her brother was. He seemed to respect her decisions, didn’t think himself so much smarter and more experienced any more… that could only be healthy for future meetings. Though Brynn hardly dared to envision that. He would recognize her now, and no mistake, and when they stumbled over each other next time, it could very well be an awkward experience. Both had seen each other in their weakest moments. That didn’t bode well for respect sometimes. Then again, maybe it could bode well for trust. But what was she to do with the trust of the Crown Prince? When all this was over both would return to their given places. She was the goosemaid and he was the future king. End of story, and she would not even complain.
“Swiftness is in my very own interest, believe me, your Highness--“ she started to comment and turned to address him face to face out of habit.

Only that he was not facing her. “Your Highness?” Her voice adopted a very alarmed tone, as she saw Prince Arthur lean half-slumped against the wall just outside the door, his eyes closed. “Oh no… nonono, you don’t!!!” she muttered and turned back, panic forming a lump in her throat. If he fell asleep all was lost!! How was this curse supposed to be broken with him fast asleep?! Any moment one of those dark knights could decide to scout the servant’s quarters and they would find him, and her… both equally defenseless. What should she do if she couldn’t get him awake again? The mental image of her wielding his sword to protect his life made her laugh hysterically. As if! No, he had to wake up! Gingerly at first, she started to shake him at the shoulders, but he seemed to have drifted too far away for that already. “Prince Arthur??!! You have to stay awake, you hear me??!! Now’s not the time for sleeping! Stay awake!!”

No, that was not enough. Another mental image entered her mind and Brynn, the non-violent goosemaiden bit her lip hard. It had to be done…
“God and the Pendragons forgive me!” she muttered, then slapped him across the face with all her might.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was not listening. He heard a distance voice in the background, urging him to wake up. But if he was going to speak in reply, it would only be to ask for a pillow to make himself more comfortable. He did not want to wake up for it was far easier to lean against the wall with his eyes closed, rather than force them awake only to wish he had not. Well, that was what he thought. Assuming he was even thinking. All he felt was so much relief, so much peace. Of course, that would all change if he realized what was at stake with him falling asleep. But as he drifted off deeper into sleep, his thoughts only slipped as well. Further and further from his mind . . . he was almost at the point of no return . . . only moments away from being able to be woken up.

When suddenly, he felt the burn of someone striking him across the face. He stumbled to the side, spun in half a circle, and jolted fully into consciousness. The first emotion that filled him was shock for he had not quite realized that he had done. When he finally realized that he was now awake, the shock over what someone else had done slowly settled in. His eyes slightly widened, which was barley noticeable as his eyes were already weary and tired, but never the less, he was surprised. His cheek continued to burn, though it was not painful. Just . . . unexpected and thus alarming. He looked the young goose maiden, just staring at her for a moment to allow her actions to register into him. He had not felt her shake him, but he had most certainly felt her slap him! "Did you just . . . hit me?" His voice expressed the shock he had felt when he first felt the impact of her action. Was he offended though?

No. She had just very well saved his life by making sure he stayed awake. He shook his head a bit, trying to shake it into full alert. How was he to protect the king when he could not even protect himself? He must. What other choice was there? Camelot had been breached and needed to find a way to put a stop to it. He needed to get back to Merlin and Morgana, and therefore, his father. Ah yes but first, he had given his word to help Brynn. After taking a few moments of adjusting to the fact that his eyes were now open again. "Thank you," he added in a low, yet extremely genuine voice. She had just prevented the others from killing him by doing what she could to keep him away. Instead of lashing out at her -- even if he was not used to such behavior, as no one dared to slap a prince -- he fought any feelings of agitation caused by his current mood, and allowed the gratefulness to be the feeling that was expressed. Besides, it took more energy to be angry than it did to let things go.

"We'll just . . . forget that happened." Meaning many things. If she had any concerns that he would punish her for it, then hopefully they would be alleviated with his statement. Plus, he did not want everyone else to know that he had been slapped for it was not exactly something to be proud of. Nor was it something that she would hopefully boast about: slapping the crown prince of Camelot and getting away with it. No. He may not know her well, but judging from how she looked after she had done it, as if she was just as surprised as he was by what she had done, he felt it safe to say that this was something they would both quickly move past. Perhaps not forget, but certainly not discuss. "Lets go," he finally said when he felt he was conscious enough to face any potential dangers, aka, the immortal knights. Taking a deep breath, grasping his sword in his hand, he slowly opened the door and stepped outside first, leading the way back to the kitchens.

[Brynn Reade]

She was done for. She had just made the worst mistake of her life and it could well be her last. An assault on Royalty, that meant High Treason. High Treason meant death, a slow and painful death. She had done it for his own good though, and under the circumstances, the spell and all, she couldn’t have thought of anything else to do. Yes, she would say that when it came to her trial. But would they even bother to have one? Would she even be allowed to speak?
There was nothing she could do now to change anything, but there was one thing, the only thing that was appropriate to do now. With a feeling like she had a stomach full of ice cubes and sharp splinters, Brynn fell to her knees, bowing her head low, waiting for Prince Arthur to pass his punishment that couldn’t be long off.

“I did, your Highness, and I also know there is no excuse for this”, she muttered, still not looking up. “Still, I can only apologize…”

"Thank you,"
... ... WHAT?! Brynn was so surprised she forgot her vow of not looking up to him until he demanded it, stepping out of the role of doomed criminal for a few seconds to cast him a VERY confused, almost dumbstruck look. Had she just heard a thanks? For hitting him? Brynn had never come across a man who liked to be hit, fewer there had to be even who could stand being hit by a woman… now top that with a servant woman slapping a princely male… and you have the most unforgivable case imaginable So why was he… forgiving her, even thanking her? Was it really possible he was able to see the intention behind it, that she had even been trying to save his life by keeping him awake at all costs?! Now that… that was really something…
Something she couldn’t quite grasp yet… but apparently had to. The Prince was already moving on.

She managed a dazed nod at his suggestion. Forget that happened… yeah that was best, though Brynn hardly believed she would be able to. Not because she had been the girl to hit the Crown Prince, but because she had been hitting anyone. It was not her. And should they ever run into each other again, now the awkwardness probably was lifted to a new level. Would HE ever be able to forget, to not hold it against her the minute they were out of danger? Now she was not only the girl who had been so very insolent... she was also the girl that slapped him! She did not doubt his honourable and good intentions, but there was only so much you could do against your own nature.
“Well,… I guess… yes… that would be best”, she muttered, feeling utterly stupid, kneeling there still on the floor. But she was not going to make another fauxpas today, so she would not get up before he actually told her so.

Him turning towards the kitchen, sword in hand, was no direct command, but it served just as well. How ridiculous would it be to stay kneeling here while she had promised to show him who her brother was. Right! That’s what this all was about – she had to get Gyrth to safety! Scrambling to her feet was the worst effort so far, as she could feel the fatigue weighing down on her like a mountain. Standing up was like moving it away from her shoulders, an herculean deed for sure.
“Alright…” she muttered as she was finally standing, staggering after Arthur. “Let’s get this finally over with…”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had indeed noticed she fell to her knees, and instead of just assuring her that there was no need, he thanked her. He had noticed her genuine fear in doing such a thing, which told him that she would not have slapped him under any other circumstances. But there would be no trial. No . . . anything. Other than this becoming a distant memory, pretending as if nothing had happened for it was uncomfortable on both their parts. He felt an odd sort of relief when she said it was for the best. The last thing that he wanted to happen was for her to go around, boasting to others that she had slapped the future king of Camelot and had gotten away with it. Yes. He considered such things even at a time like this. It was easier to focus on smaller things; things that he had some sort of control over; things that were easily resolved. If he only focused on the bigger picture, on finding a way to reverse this spell which seemed nearly impossible right now, or to focus on staying awake which was equally as difficult . . . then he may feel a bit more defeated. But now that that was out of the way, he could focus on the next small task: to bring the rest of her family here.

As they headed back towards the kitchen, Arthur kept a close watch on their surroundings. "You prevented me from succumbing to the spell," he began to tell her in a low, almost whispered voice, but audible enough for her to hear. "You need not apologize for that." Even Arthur was surprised by his words, but he also knew that they were true. He would not blame or punish her for having kept him awake. If there was another way to do so, he was certain she would have taken it -- just judging from how uncomfortable she had been in slapping him in the first place. Had there been a pail of water nearby, he could only assume she would have taken advantage of that and dumped it over his head -- as he had once asked Guinevère to do. But Brynn had improvised, doing the only thing she could think of. This was a justifiable excuse, and by telling her that they could both forget it happened, was his way of showing that there were no hard feelings . . . nor was there any reason to feel guilty over it.

Arthur suddenly froze when he heard movement in the distance, but not far enough for the sound to be lost to him. He abruptly froze, holding his hand up to indicate to her to stop as well, and not to say anything right now. Arthur needed to test if the sounds he was hearing was only their own movement, or if his mind was over paranoid -- as the struggle against the spell could surely have an effect -- . . . or if they had been found by the knights. Unfortunately, it was the latter for even when Arthur paused, he could hear the heavy footsteps approaching them. Thankfully, they were not in sight in yet, so they would have to move before he came into view. Arthur grabbed her arm and pulled her forward, opening the door to the kitchen and pushing her inside first. He glanced down the hallway, not yet seeing the immortal knight, but needed to quickly make sure that they had not been sighted. He then too entered the kitchen, closing the door quietly, but quickly, and stood right next to it. He held his sword up in preparation, as his body was practically pressed against the door, his ear close enough so that he could hear just how close the knight would get. With his hand not yielding his sword, he raised his index finger to his lips, a further indication for her to not yet speak.

[Brynn Reade]

When she had went out this morning to bring her geese to the meadows, Brynn had not expected many things to happen. For one, she had not expected a spell to cause all Camelot to become fast asleep but excluding her because she was outside the city walls. Would it be better if she hadn’t been excluded, lying in the green grass without any worries? Oh no, better not think too long of soft green grass… it just made the fatigue come back with full force! And if it wasn’t for her, maybe a few other people might be worse off right now. Brynn did not see herself as a heroine, but she could not very well wish Prince Arthur dead just so she was out of trouble.
Then she had not expected of course to come face to face with her Crown Prince, not only talking to him at length but practically fighting side by side in a neverending struggle against falling asleep. They both had seen each other in their weakest moments, Brynn had had hers in the narrow tunnel with her claustrophobia, and Prince Arthur with just falling asleep a moment ago. It had created some awkward scenes, but also some weird sense of companionship for the time being.

On behalf of the incident just mentioned above, probably the biggest surprise was Prince Arthur’s behaviour right now, and it never would cease to amaze her. Not only had he forgiven her the slap, but he also was telling her she should not feel guilty for anything, as she had saved him. Yes that had been his words: Saved him. Hadn’t she been so horribly tired, she might have pondered more about this pleasant turn of the tide which sent an actual warm shower of affection down her spine, but for now she chose to postpone the pondering. She only settled on a thankful nod and a genuine smile that might have been brighter once, but even moving facial muscles got more and more difficult.
“Be sure I won’t forget this”, she muttered back, stopped to think and then added with a little chuckle. “This generosity I mean, not the… cause. That of course I will forget quickly. You have my word.”

When Arthur suddenly froze Brynn did not understand at first, as her mind was occupied with setting one foot before the other, but then her ears caught on a very dreaded sound. Those slow, deliberate footsteps in the distance. Even if she lived to be a hundred years – which didn’t seem likely at the moment – she would never forget the pattern of these steps and who they belonged to. Panic made her throat close off and she gasped for air, looking to Arthur for guidance and support. He was the warrior, he had to know how to act in these situations!
Thankfully the prince still seemed able to react, and Brynn didn’t protest in the slightest as she was pushed through the kitchen door.
Not wanting to be in the way of possible fighting, she took a few steps to the side, where Gyrth still lay on the straw, cowering down and putting an arm protectively around her little brother. She didn’t need Arthur’s indication of being silent, she couldn’t have forced out any noise anyway, just holding her breath, trying to control her wildly beating heart. What should she do if things came down to a fight? Her hand suddenly touched wood and when she looked down on the sleeping Gyrth she saw he still had his little wooden sword in hand, as if ready to jump up and play knight at any minute.

It was ridiculous and it probably also looked that way, but Brynn nevertheless took hold of the tiny sword she had made herself just a few months ago and waited for something to happen. Even she could hear the footsteps coming closer now, as everything was as quiet as a tomb… bad comparison… Once again her breath caught in her throat when she heard the footsteps stop just outside the door. Then the iron handle was being pushed down, slowly, horribly slowly.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Brynn instantly understood what was happening. Staying near the door, his eyes followed hers as she rushed over to one of the sleeping bodies. It was undoubtedly her brother. Arthur had to quickly think of what the best course of action would be. The immortal knight was right outside the door, and he seemed to not be moving. He knew that they were in here and it would only be a matter of time before he stormed in and attempted to kill the prince . . . again. Arthur closed his eyes, not out of fatigue but this time in a contemplative way. His priority right now, in this moment, was getting Brynn to safety. Of course, the bigger picture was saving his father and saving the kingdom . . . but one thing at a time. Right now, she was with him and she needed to return to where her family was so that she could rest with them. And then hopefully, the next she awoke, everything would be set back to normal. Arthur could only hope this, not guarantee.

He put his sword in his sheath and dragged over a chair, and positioning it in an angle against the handle. It would block entrance for the knight into the room. Arthur was not an idiot though. He knew it was not going to hold for long, but that was not the plan. The plan was to stall the knight so that he could get everything else into place. He then went over to where her brother lay, and this time, the young lad was easy to carry for he was small. Arthur picked up the upper half of his body and half dragged him over towards the door, suspecting that Brynn would follow him in this short distance. When by the door again, hearing the rattling of the knight's armor as he tried to get in, Arthur looked at the goosemaiden. "Take him to your family's quarters," he began to explain to her, slightly out of breath. There was no longer the need to keep quiet for the knight knew for certain they were in here, and he doubted he was going to leave.

When Arthur caught his breath a bit more, he continued to speak. "I will distract him, leading him to the opposite direction in which you will go." He hoped that the fact that her brother was smaller, would make it a bit easier for her to drag him down the hall. She had to, for if Arthur escorted her back, then it only meant that she -- or her brother -- could get in harms way and during Arthur and the knight's combat, she or her brother could suffer an accidental strike from either of their swords. He was not about to take that risk, which is why he was going to lead him in the opposite direction of the hall. The direction where there were less sleeping bodies so that they would not get in the way of the fight and their lives be put at risk as they slept so defenselessly. Arthur would just have to control the direction of it, which hopefully would not be too difficult. As soon as the doors opened, he would push the knight back with all his strength and then have his sword out, ready to attack. Yes. This was the plan. But before he removed the chair, or opened the door for him, he continued to look at the young woman before him.

He extended his hand to her, for her to shake. "Good luck to you Brynn," he told her in a strong voice, yet it did not hold the formality in which a prince spoke to a servant. But rather, a tone in which a friend spoke to a friend. It was the same way he had wished Guinevère luck in Ealdor right before the battle. A tone of mutual understanding between two people, void of any status that would separate them. His words were meant to be encouraging and hopeful that they would make it out of the situation. It was the way he spoke to Brynn now. The two of them had seen each other in some of their weakest moments, but they had also depended on each other. He may have only spoken to her for the first time in all the years she worked here, but circumstances and experience is what drew two people together. He did not have to know her all her life to feel indebted and grateful to her. For he already did, and he was rather certain that she would no longer be a face in the crowd that he would ever look past or ignore.

[Brynn Reade]

Brynn couldn’t know what exactly Prince Arthur’s plan was, but at least he seemed to have one. In that aspect he was surely better off than herself. Her brain had almost completely gone into shut down. She felt dumb like a sheep with such a fogged and drowsy mind, only able to follow orders, not make them like she had before. Perhaps it was that continous sitting down and then having to get up again which felt harder each time. It seemed to drain every ounce of her strength until all she could focus on was keeping her eyes open against what felt like iron weights pressing on her lids.
Now the prince was jamming a chair underneath the door handle, just the minute the door had wanted to open. Even though the rattling continued, the way inside for the dark knight was blocked – for now. Brynn was not delusional enough yet to believe this would hold him up for much longer, but at least it would buy time, for any plan to be played out.

Now, what WAS the plan Prince Arthur seemed to be getting at?! It seemed to involve Gyrth…? At least now he was dragged over to the door? Brynn sighed and pushed herself off the comfortable ground yet AGAIN, staggering slightly as if she had some tankards of mead too many. What was he getting at? For a crazy moment the goosemaiden actually suspected the prince to use her little brother as some kind of bait… take one, let two go or something similar, and she opened her mouth to feebly protest, until she finally realised that this was not only so far from the courteous action the future king of Camelot would take, but that it would also be stupid. Those knights were here to kill HIM, not a little boy instead. Her mind had jumped to this conclusion yet again, but that still didn’t help her in finding out what was truly going on here. Hmm… she could ask? Or simply wait until he explained it himself? That might be best… Listening didn’t require as much strength as talking after all.

"Take him to your family's quarters," he said. Hang on… wasn’t that what she had been trying to do for the last quarter of an hour? Had it escaped his kind notice that exactly this way she wanted to take was being blocked by a killing machine? Was that it? Had he finally lost his mind?! Oh great!
But then he added something which suddenly gave the whole thing more sense – and yet didn’t. "I will distract him, leading him to the opposite direction in which you will go."
That, oddly enough, sent her bolting awake for a few short moments. He… he what?! Was he really implying what she thought he was implying?! He would dance with death, figuratively or literally speaking alike to allow her to get to safety?! She had been right: He WAS out of his right mind.

Brynn then however looked between the sweet face of her sleeping brother, now resting heavily in her arms again and the determined yet incredibly tired looking face of Prince Arthur and knew the time for protest was over. A few minutes before, she would have objected fiercely to this plan, being stubborn and insisting that their had to be another way. The future king of Camelot could not risk his life to save a goosemaiden and her brother, it was unthinkable. But throughout the same few minutes Brynn had learned enough about Arthur Pendragon to know that this was exactly what he would do. And no mistake. There simply was no other way, and they both knew it. That didn’t diminish the respect and admiration Brynn felt towards him though. There might be only this way, but the prince was willing to go it.
So even if everything inside Brynn wanted to resist and protest, she slowly nodded her head. There was a sudden feeling of closeness between them, lifting the barriers of class and status. For this short moment there was no Prince and Goosemaiden anymore, but two people fighting to stay alive. And it all cumulated in him extending his hand for her to shake.

Feeling a little like she was dreaming, Brynn hestitantly extended her own hand to meet his, but then gave it a firm shake, not turning her eyes away. “And to you, Prince Arthur.” She replied warmly, but of course not forsaking his title. They might feel like equals for the time being, but she never would be so audacious as to call him by his first name. There truly were limits! “I hope to see you again in good health when all this is over”, she added, then adjusted Gyrth in her arms, giving Arthur a small nod to show him she was ready.

[Arthur Pendragon]

This was it. When Brynn released her hand from their embrace, he took a deep breath, physically and mentally preparing himself for the events about to come. Even if he succeeded in drawing away the knight . . . how was he to break this curse? How was he to awake every slumbering body? He could only desperately hope and pray that Morgana remembered what was in that draft Gaius had prepared for her, or that Merlin discovered the content of it. For it seemed that right now, that was their only chance. He slightly shook his head a bit, blinking a few times, clearing his mind of these dooming thoughts, and trying to focus on the matter at hand. There was a whole kingdom at stake, but right at this moment, there was a woman’s life at stake as well. He would do what he could and hope that Merlin and Morgana were successful in what tasks had been appointed to them: recreating the draft and protecting his father. When Brynn took hold of her brother, Arthur pulled his sword out, looking at her for a sign to indicate that she was ready. She nodded, and Arthur gave a short nod in return.

He exhaled heavily, further preparing himself for what was about to happen. With his sword firmly in his hand, he slowly moved the chair back, and in only a couple of seconds as soon as it was removed from its block on the handle, Arthur threw himself against the door with all his strength and weight. It was enough to break it off its hinges, but more importantly, had proved to be a makeshift shield so that Arthur would not ram right into the knight’s blade. With the aid of the door, he had managed to shove the knight against the wall, before he took position, moving to the side that would lead down the hall, opposite of the direction that Brynn would need to drag her brother towards . . . as promised. He held his sword up defensively, and the knight threw the large wooden board which had once been a door, and shifted his position – as Arthur knew he would – standing directly in front of the prince. He had control of the direction of the fight for as suspected, the knight was after him and his father. No one else.

Arthur took the first swing, in order to fully distract the knight. The knight blocked the blow easily enough and then untangled his sword to swing again. The clanging of metal echoed in the silent hallways, but no noise was loud or alarming enough to wake all the people. The spell was too strong. As the blades continued to collide against one another, the pressure of each blow increasing in strength, Arthur strategically moved backwards, making sure his footing was well planned so that the knight would follow his direction, but avoid slaughtering any innocents during the process. It was getting too difficult though. Arthur was using all the concentration he could but he was fading fast with this energy demanding combat. His breathing was getting heavier and soon enough, he would lose the power in his blows and stagger in his footwork. He needed to get away from this knight to catch his breath, and find the others. When he was at the end of the hallway,

Arthur did not have to glance to his side to know that there was another door, one that was a servant’s hallway which was more discreet in its passage. He needed to get there, and as soon as possible, for the more Arthur tried to fight, the more the immortal knight grew in skill and strength. Or maybe that was just the way it seemed to the weakening prince. Never the less, he took his chances. After blocking one more blow, he forced the knight’s blade to the ground, so that the tip of the sword was on the floor, even though the immortal creature still gripped the handle firmly. Arthur only needed the blade to be lowered so that he could perform his next actions. He raised his foot and with as much might and vigor as he could, he put his foot on the armored chest plate of the knight, and kicked him back. The unexpected attack caught the knight off guard, and he staggered backwards, but he did not fall. No matter. That was all Arthur needed him to do. He turned to race through the door, and immediately shut it, placing a wooden board horizontally over it as it served as a lock.

Arthur then took a few steps backwards. He only remained to make sure that the knight was on the other end, and not setting off through the hall in the opposite direction he had led him: towards Brynn. He heard the heavy pounded on the door, and it did not take long for there to be a noticeable effect. The board serving as a lock was weakening and this gave Arthur assurance that he would not stop beating at it, until the door was down. With this confidence, he turned and ran down the hallway, unsure how he managed to move so quickly when he felt as if he had no life left in his legs, or his entire body for that matter. He did have one advantage over the knights though: they did not run. They may walk, or moved at a hurried pace, but they did not run. Of course, with him becoming so unenergetic, they would have no need to, but he was not ready to surrender just yet. No. He moved as quickly as his adrenaline enabled him to so that he could find Merlin, Morgana and his father, and ultimately find a way to save Camelot.