Never Surrender

[Arthur Pendragon]

It was in the middle of the night and the young prince, sole heir to Camelot was inspecting himself in the mirror. He fixed a strand of hair that was out of place, trying to decide whether to sweep his front bangs to the side, or keep them straight in front. He titled his head to the side, as if inspecting himself in different angles. Somewhere in between. Fiddling with his hair once more, he was finally satisfied with the way it fell. He stood up straight, adjusting the dark blue coat he wore over his shirt. He had his belt around his waist, which had his sword attached to it. He would never leave anywhere without it . . . not even on a midnight date. And that was precisely where he was going right now. He had met the most incredible foreign noblewoman at court. A visiting one from Gwent and . . . well, she was damn gorgeous. Unfortunately, she was staying with a fellow friend in Camelot, at their estate. Thankfully, it was not far from the castle, which was why he knew he could get away with sneaking out there and then coming back before the sun came up. His intentions were entirely . . . honorable. For he would not take a young woman's virtue, not at this age. Not with all the complications it could cause. But that did not mean he didn't wish to spend time with her. Perhaps steal a kiss or two.

The thought made him anxious to see her. He had charmed her in court, and he knew that she too was eager for their little almost somewhat scandalous tryst at this late hour. They had been sure to confirm plans before she left. He told her he'd be at her estate at half past midnight . . . and that she should wait for him at the gardens. An easy place to sneak to, for Arthur knew the estate well. He knew his way around it and he knew he could easily get in without detecting the guards. Besides, if he was caught, he could always make up some sort of story. He was the prince of Camelot! How could they refuse his presence? Finally satisfied with his appearance, he fixed one of his boots before grabbing his riding gloves and grabbing the rope he had his servant bring him earlier today. It was tied to his bed post so that it would be sturdy enough to give him that stability. Pulling it a couple of times just to be sure that it was strong enough, he then made his way over to the window. He peered down, the height not fazing him in the slightest. Grabbing to one end of the rope, he tossed it down, tugging it once more just to be totally certain -- for quite literally, his life depended on it.

He then grabbed on to it, and hopped out the window, moving steadily and smoothly, using the grooves between the bricks for balance and a place for his foot to easily climb down the wall of the castle. This would be his way down and his way up. When he got to the bottom he hopped down, and looked up his window one last time before going off to the stables, where one of his horses was prepared and his very nervous manservant standing there with the reigns in his hands. Arthur grabbed the reigns and mounted his horse. "Don't breathe a word of this to anyone," he demanded, knowing his servant would comply. For he could easily make his life a living hell . . . more so than he already did anyway. He would just use him for extra target practice. With that final command -- or threat rather -- Arthur dug his heels on the horse's side and flicked the reigns. Without being detected, he rode off through the city gates, eagerly making his way to his destination.

He rode quickly, soon enough entering the woods and weaving through the trees. He was planning on taking a shortcut . . . perhaps one not so wise at this hour, but never the less, it was necessary. He did not want to keep his lady waiting after all. He noticed that the abundance of trees began to thicken, and the area become more hilly and uneven. He pulled his horse to a halt, dismounting so that he could guide his stead through the woods rather than ride him through. So far, it had been a smooth journey, but something did not feel right. Arthur kept looking in almost every direction . . . his instincts telling him that something was severely off. There was something unsettling about this, and it was causing him to raise his guard, keeping one hand on the hilt of his sword attached to his side, while the other ones firmly grasped the reigns of his horse, continuing to walk forward. This was not one of the times Arthur liked being proven right, for suddenly, out of no where, an ambush of men surrounded him from every direction.

There were those in front of him, behind him, to his sides . . . everywhere, creating a circle around him, all of them holding out their weapons and the menacing expression on their faces telling him that they were not going to be dissuaded from doing . . . whatever they planned to be doing. As a reflex, he had pulled out his own sword, holding it defensively out in front of him. But Arthur knew when he was out numbered. There were over a dozen men surrounding him . . . and he knew that fighting them would only result in his death. Bandits may not be skilled warriors, but Arthur was not stupid. He knew that more of them must be lurking nearby, and even if he managed to defeat every single one here . . . only more would come. Still, he did not lower his sword until he knew what it was they wanted. For if they planned to kill him anyway, he would die in combat, refusing to submit to being a coward by just allowing them to kill him without a fight.


_{Setting: Deep in the woods of Camelot
Time of Day: Very late at night
Timeline: When Arthur is about 16 years old
Tag: Lady Morgana LeFay
Notes: Credit for the thread title goes to Morgana LeFay}

[mysery]

She hadn't been sleeping all that well. Nightmares that she could never remember once she woke kept her terrified even though the memory of them was hazy and fleeting. So, without anyone's knowledge, the young Lady of Camelot had taken to visiting the horses at night. She sat with them for hours sometimes, just brushing their manes and allowing her mind to wander to anything and everything. And she usually found she slept a little better when she'd spent some time in the stables. Nobody knew about her nighttime visits, not even Guinevère who was perhaps her closest friend.

It was on one of these nighttime visits that Morgana found herself in one of the stalls, brushing one of the horses, when a noise interrupted her. Frowning, she looked out to see Arthur's manservant preparing his horse. What was going on? She knew it was his duty to brush Arthur's horse, but he should have been in bed by now, just like she should. Putting aside her own brush, Morgana watched him discreetly. So focused on his task he was that he failed to even notice her there. How odd. All of it became clear though when Arthur came striding into the stables.

He was sneaking out, the little rebel!

Morgana narrowed her eyes. For years now she and Arthur had spent most of their time devising ways to one up the other or get the better of them. Personally for her it had all started with the eyebrow incident when she was twelve. She believed Arthur just hated her because she was always right. So to have busted him, even inadvertadely, sneaking out? Oh this was too good an opportunity to pass up. Once he was saddled and gone, the manservant all but ran from the stables. Quickly preparing her own horse, Morgana pulled her hood up and followed.

She didn't get too close to Arthur, getting caught would be stupid, but she wanted to know where he was sneaking off to. And if it was of any use to her as far as blackmail material went. Further and further into the woods they went and Morgana seriously considered for a moment just turning around and going back. The sneaking out was enough to blackmail him with anyway.

Just as she contemplated turning her horse around, suddenly something tugged on her cloak hard and yanked her down off her horse. Morgana hit the ground hard and it took her a moment to realise it was a man that had pulled her down. More than one actually. Fear made her stomach clench when they grabbed for her, but before she could scream, surely Arthur would hear her, they covered her mouth and bound her hands. She couldn't deny she was terrified of what they would do to her. They didn't do anything though, just marched her through the trees for a bit before two of them stopped with her and the others kept going. Just through the trees she could see Arthur with his horse. She wanted to run to him, but the two thugs kept a tight grip on her arms and mouth, preventing her from doing so as he was surrounded.

"Come along quietly now little Princeling," the leader, or at least she assumed him to be, sneered at Arthur. Morgana knew he wouldn't. It wasn't in Arthur's nature to surrender easily. It wasn't until the two men hauled her out into the small clearing and the leader produced a dagger that she understood. "You wouldn't want the death of the Lady Morgana on your head now would you?"

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Setting: Deep in the woods of Camelot

Tiimeline: When Morgana is about 16 years old

Tag: Arthur Pendragon

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur did not back down, despite the odds that were not working in his favor. He held up his sword defensively, a determined expression in his face. When he called him 'princeling' . . . Arthur's curiosity over the men's motives were finally satisfied. They knew he was royalty. They knew he was the king's son, prince Arthur of Camelot, sole heir to the throne. It meant that they probably would not kill him, but rather, keep him for ransom. Or something of the sort. If they had wanted him to be killed . . . they would not have wasted this time standing here and talking. This was not good at all. He was about to demand that they let him pass, but what his eyes lay witness to next, caused him to freeze in fear. Not for his own life . . . but for the person who he saw in front of him. Morgana. Morgana?! What the hell was she doing here?! How . . . why . . . when . . . Arthur could just stare at her, his eyes widening with surprise at shock over seeing her here. Had she followed him?! She had to have! What other logical explanation was there for her being here out in the middle of the woods at his hour?! It was far too much of a coincidence!

He looked at her, and felt his heart beat quicken over the sight of the men keeping a firm grasp on her, and furthermore, the apparent leader holding out a weapon close to her. They knew who she was too, and of her importance in the kingdom. Arthur could have fought to his death, but with her standing there in direct danger . . . he could not. He could not and would never jeopardize her life like that. She had grown to be a sister to him, and to see her now, in harm's way . . . because of him -- or whatever reason she had for following him -- made him feel pure fear for her. He was meant to protect her, not lead her towards danger! He could see the fear in her eyes, and that only filled him with more anger. The way they had their filthy hands on her . . . the way the man was holding a dagger near her . . . it filled Arthur with rage. But, it was a controlled rage. His expression slowly went back to a determined one, trying to hide that fearfulness he felt for her . . . for he knew that was exactly what they wanted.

If there was anything that could make him lower his weapon, this would be it. He slowly brought his sword down, holding out his other hand as if to show he was not about to do anything rash. He slowly bent down, but not too far, tossing his sword to the ground, now also holding out his free hand which was no longer grasping his sword. Almost immediately, two of the men rushed towards him, one picked up the weapon from the ground while the other grabbed both of Arthur's arms and forced them in front of him so that they could bind his hands. "You have me," Arthur said, in a strong voice, trying to remain confident though his heart was beating far too rapidly . . . out of worry for her. "Let her go." Arthur knew that this request, would not be so easily met. But he had to try. He had to do something! He held that very unlikely hope that somehow, they would comply with his request . . . or remand rather, for he still held that authoritativeness over them. But they were not so easily convinced. "Why only settle for one, when I can have you both?" The leader asked rhetorically, practically amused with the suggestion Arthur had made. Clearly, he was not one willing to bargain.

"Come on then," he snapped as he pushed Morgana forward, urging both her and Arthur to begin walking forward, following the group of men who had already begun to walk together in one general direction. "Before someone comes looking for them." Great. This was just great. Not only was Arthur caught but Morgana was too. That was what mainly caused him grief. He knew the kind of perversion that ran through some men's minds . . . their crudeness, and he did not even want to think about what they could do to her. She was obviously a beautiful women, and beautiful women did not do well in a setting such as thing. The thought alone was enough to make him feel nauseous. As they began to walk forward, Arthur was now alongside her, and decided to take this opportunity to ask his unanswered questions. "What are you doing here?" He demanded in a harsh whisper, the harshness stemming out of concern rather than anger towards her. She should not be out here! It was not safe! And now . . . they were both suffering the consequences.

[[ Ahhh slightly godmodded there! Let me know if you would like me to change it! ]]

[mysery]

The shock on Arthur's face was clearly visible to Morgana. She had always been able to read him like a book and here, now with them outmanned and outnumbered by bandits, was no exception. Surprise, first and foremost, followed rather quickly by shock and finally fear. Morgana was a strong young woman, independant and 'more than a handful' as a few had described her, and, though the dagger at her throat kept her paralyzed, inside she was rallying against these men for having the gall to use her against Arthur in such a way. Not just for her own pride, and Arthur's, but what kind of men hid behind a woman? And a sixteen year old one at that? It was like using a child as a shield. Utterly despicable in her mind.

However their words alone explained their choice in hostage. No doubt Arthur had picked up on it also. They knew who he was, and by extension, her own identity. Clearly they had been planning to attack Arthur before this, there were too many of them and they seemed too calm for it to be a simple attack of opportunity. Then again, nothing they could have planned could have included her. She was just an added bonus to ensure his cooperation. Why did she have to be a fool and follow Arthur out into the woods? He was a big boy, he could take care of himself, but she'd been so eager to catch him out, so eager to garner some material that would shut that mouth of his any time it was mentioned that she had forgone all thoughts of safety. She hadn't even brought a sword!

Arthur steeled his features once again, and Morgana glanced between the Prince and the leader of the men. Part of Morgana wished he would fight them, that he wouldn't bow to their whims simply because of her, but a smaller part, the one that was afraid of being hurt and killed here tonight, was relieved he did. That small part once again fluttered with hope as Arthur all but demanded they let her go as they now had him. And had him they did. His arms were bound behind his back, just as her own were, and like that, he was at their mercy. It was not to be though.

"Why only settle for one, when I can have you both?"

It had been too much to hope that these worthless thugs would release her. Even, it seemed, they had some sembelance of a brain. For the first thing Morgana would have done would be to return to Camelot and summon what forces they had to rescue Arthur. They were siblings after all, even if their blood said otherwise. Arthur was as much her brother as any she had been born to and these men would never be allowed to take him if she had anything to do with it. Suddenly the dagger was gone, and Morgana felt only a moments relief before she was pushed forward. "Come on then." With a slight stagger, she righted herself, and levelled the men with a glare. Hostage she may be, but she was still a Lady of Camelot.

She would have expected nothing less from Arthur when his harsh whisper reached her. She levelled her glare on him next. "I could ask you the same thing! I felt like getting myself kidnapped so I figured a late night stroll in the woods would do it," she responded snappishly, her own ire flaring up. Like he could talk! He had been out here on his own as well!

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Setting: Deep in the woods of Camelot

Tiimeline: When Morgana is about 16 years old

Tag: Arthur Pendragon

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur somehow miraculously managed to withhold himself from rolling his eyes at Morgana's comment. She must have followed him. It was far too great a coincidence to be out here in the same vicinity as him; only to be greeted by the same band of thugs. This would be so much easier if she was not here! He could be more reckless, and they would have no leverage against him. But Morgana was his weakness; his soft spot. Everyone knew it, and unfortunately these men somehow had enough intelligence as to use that against him. No morals; no bravery . . . but they had their cards and were playing them right. "You shouldn't even be out here," he added, that level of angered concerned hardly diminishing. "Were you following me, was that it?" He questioned, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"Good god Morgana," he went on, assuming her response already. "Your nosiness is going to be the end of you," he added, aware that it had been her curiosity that led her here. Curiosity in his private affairs and not so much what danger lurked about in the woods at this late hour. He did not mean her end would be now, but eventually. For it had clearly gotten her into this much trouble. While engaged in this conversation with her, he was also keeping a close eye and open ears to the men around them, as well as the surroundings they were in. Just in case there would be an opportune moment to somehow break free from this. His priority was Morgana. If he could get her out of here and to safety, then it would be alright. At the same time, he wasn't an idiot. He was not just going to send her off to run for her life, when he knew they were outnumbered, and while he was fighting off some men, others could easily go and chase her.

No. They needed to both break free from this. That way, he could protect her better for he would be able to keep her in his sights rather than run off to get help, when there was the possibility she would not make it. And he would not risk it. For he would never forgive himself if he sent her to her death in such a way. If he could just get a sword in both his and her hands, then their chances of success would go up. He was a skilled combatant, and she could certainly hold her own, better than most noblewoman . . . hell, better than some men he trained to be knights. They needed weapons, and they needed to be smart. Arthur was confident though. Despite the numbers against them, he knew that putting together his and Morgana's intellect and skill would cause them to gain the upper hand. Now, it was just the combining part and working together bit that would be difficult.

[mysery]

"Dont you dare lecture me about being out here when you shouldn't have been either!" Morgana hissed, her eyes glancing around them. There he was trying to act like he knew better than her when he was being nothing but a hipocrit. He shouldn't have been out there either and, if anything other than them being captured had occurred, she would have taken pleasure in driving that fact home to the Prince. However, as it stood, they were captured and being dragged along by a group of burly thugs. She bristled at his comment about her nosiness. It wasn't worth arguing with him right now.

Later, after they got out of this, and they would, she was going to get him back for that comment, but now... now Morgana had to admit that what he said struck a chord inside her. It frightened her because... because this could be her end. These men were dangerous, they could hurt or even kill her. And Arthur. Morgana silenced herself then, turning her head away so Arthur couldn't see her face. Instead, she turned her attention to observing the men all around them. It was clear that they all followed the orders of the leader, and that they were outnumbered. Morgana was quite good at observing that which went on around her, and figuring out things, but never before had she been in a situation like this.

Adrenaline was still lingering in her system, as well as the underlying fear. It was a potent combination in reality, but Morgana was, at that very moment, just more concerned with where they were going. Camelot wouldn't miss them until morning came, when Guinevère arrived to wake her, and Arthur's manservant did the same. Until then, they were at the mercy of these men and whatever it was they planned to do with them. Simply killing Arthur hadn't been their goal, or he would already be dead. No, they must have wanted something else. A ransom perhaps.

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Setting: Deep in the woods of Camelot

Tiimeline: When Morgana is about 16 years old

Tag: Arthur Pendragon

[Arthur Pendragon]

At least his reason was more legitimate! He actually had plans; her purpose for being out here was far less valid. But Arthur did not voice this. For he noticed her silence that followed, and knew she must be scared. Hell, Arthur was scared. But he knew better than to show such emotion. He was more fearful of what they would do to her, for a woman in the presence of these men was never a good thing. He noticed the way she looked around at them and then averted his gaze. He should not be trying to encourage a fight with her. Though the two were known to bicker like siblings, now was the time when they needed to work together for a common purpose: to get out of here. "No harm will come to you. I will make sure of it." His words were spoken in a low, but genuine tone, holding a strong seriousness as they were meant for comfort. Arthur considered himself a man of his word, and he would not break this one to her.

He swore that nothing would happen to her which was something he vowed since he had grown to love her as a sister. And now it was something he voiced when circumstances caused such fear in her. Deciding to put his mind to purpose, he continued to speak. "Do you recognize any of them?" Arthur asked. He didn't, but it was worth asking if she had seen them lurking about either in the city or somewhere else. She was after all rather observant. Arthur had tried to see the craftsmanship of the weapons, but they bore no one consistency. Which meant they either purposely used undetectable weapons; or they were nomads traveling from vast lands from which Arthur did not recognize their weapon style. Either way, they were totally unfamiliar to him, both in terms of weapons and by the faces of these men. But now that he saw them, he would never forget them.