The Replacement Husband [An AU Plot Line] (Arwen)

[Guinevère]

Many things had changed in the kingdom in the last almost decade. Eight years ago, the young king had chosen his bride not from from princesses, or noblewomen of the purest blood but of a serving girl. With in a year, she gave him a son. One that the king could hold high and love. A son that he taught to walk and talk, and was just starting to teach him to hold his head up and behave like a prince. Just two years later, she gifted him with a daughter. One that had her father's bright blue eyes, and mother's curls.

Everything seemed perfect for the kingdom . . . .

Until two years after the birth of their daughter--four years after their marriage--Odin struck a deadly blow. In his efforts to kill the young king, he men entered the kingdom and managed to catch the king unaware while he was distant from help. They boarded a ship and set sail thinking it would make them hard to watch. The witch Morgana whom had discovered this, used her magic to cause a great storm, and steal he lives of all aboard.

Camelot mourned, but was not lost. Morgana continued her efforts for the throne, but was never quite successful. It was not until a chance encounter of a knight on patrol on the smaller villages that was just over the boarder. he was there to spy on their annoying neighbors, but what he found had him riding hard to Camelot, and would change the course of everyone's lives.

[Arthur Pendragon]

The life of a farmer was not easy. But nor was the life of . . . whatever he was before this. He'd been told he was a raider; a mercenary. And he believed these words for the scars on his body held evidence to the kind of man he'd been told he was. He never wished to be one of such violence. The memory loss had prevented him from remembering anything, which was both a relief and frustrating. Frustrating because . . . well, anyone would be frustrated if they could not remember their past life. Relieved, because perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps it was a good thing he did not remember all the crimes he had committed; all the violence he had inflicted. He had decided to take another path, a more peaceful one and ventured to the nearest village, the first one he came across. It seemed that fate had distinctly led him there, for it had plans in store. It was here that he met Lillian, the woman that would be his wife. A woman that he had fallen in love with after the compassion she had shown him. Her father had farmland and in his old age he was unwell and was looking to hire someone who work for him.

This was where fate played a part. For Lillian offered him this job. Arthur Sawyer was all too happy to accept. He was unfamiliar with doing such work but learned quickly. With the help of the man's daughter. Sawyer lived with them, in the barn where a bed had been set up. Soon however, he no longer became just a farm boy that aided with the work. He became a man who had fallen in love with Lillian and who returned such affections. It seemed like the perfect love tale; that of two simple peasants who destiny had brought together. Before they were wed however, the first -- of two -- tragedies plagued their lives: Lillian's father passed away. It was a devastating incident but not an entirely unexpected one. The two of them mourned, but they found comfort in each other and decided a few weeks after to wed. It was the first chapter in their lives as husband and wife. Sawyer took over the land, working on it all day, and Lillian proved to be the perfect housewife. They were happy, together, in love. Though Sawyer would never admit it -- always remaining rather vague about his unknown past -- he always felt like something was missing. Like he was meant to be somewhere else.

Like . . . this was not where he should be. The feeling was always there but never strong enough to explore the world. He was perfectly content with his wife . . . especially after a year where she graced their marriage with a child. This was both a blessing and a tragedy intertwined. For the birth of their beautiful baby girl, Aliana, was what cost the life of his beautiful wife. The loss devastated Sawyer, but he found comfort in his daughter, knowing he had to remain strong if he was to be her sole guardian. Her only parent. Raising her by himself had not been easy, but they shared a bond that was so strong. He loved her more than anything else in this world -- or so he believed -- and while he would always mourn for the loss of his wife, he was forever grateful that if she had to leave him, she at least left him with a part of her. A beautiful girl! She was three years of age, nearing four, and Sawyer could see parts of him -- and Lillian -- in her every day. This was his life. The life of a farmer, a loving father, and a friend to all their neighbors. Little did he know that fate once again, would have something in store for him.

[Guinevère]

In hind sight, everything could have been handled better. Yet with the queen away--visiting another kingdom for a treaty signing--the decisions had to be made by the council, rather then the queen. When the plan was suggested, they felt they needed to act on it, before Morgana or someone else discovered what lay hidden just over the border in Esta.

That being said, thirty knights were dispatched to go escort the Queen home, and another twenty were sent back to the small village to fetch the pawn in the final game to bring down Morgana. The flaw in fighting Morgana was that she was hard to find, and never came at you from where you could see her--disappearing before you could get close enough to do her harm.

When the spy-knight had seen the Pendragon look-a-like, he'd reported it to the council and they sent men to bring him in. Not caring if it was not on their lands, for the role he would play was too great. This farmer who happened to look like the fallen king would be bait. Using Morgana's hate of him, they would draw her out and let her be killed.

Then men had no knowledge of the child, they simply rode into the field, and set about seizing the man they were instructed to bring home. If Morgana learned of him, the plan would fail. They needed to move quickly, and make sure as little people saw him as they could. Which was why they took no chances in asking, but armed with rope, and a bag to cover his head, moved in to take him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Today was a very special day. It was his little girl's birthday! He had saved up coin to get her a few things from the market, which were wrapped and ready to be presented. The neighbors were coming over for a small party in an hour or so, which gave him enough time to set things up. She was waiting inside the house for him to return, while he was doing something he never thought he would ever do: pick flowers. He had promised to pick her a few so that they could put them in a cup in the middle of the table to 'decorate' for her fourth birthday party. Sawyer knew that picking flowers wasn't very masculine . . . but he would do anything for his little girl. He was only a little ways away from the house, making sure to keep it in eye's view so that he would know if something was wrong, or in case she needed him for anything. The sun was out and it truly was a perfect day!Perfect . . . until he heard the thundering of hooves fast approaching. Sawyer looked in the distance to see a group of men coming toward his house. Not just men, knights! Sawyer would have assumed that they were here for someone else.

But as they had land, the houses were separated enough that it was rather evident which way the knights were heading toward. Sawyer immediately dropped the flowers and hurried walked backward toward the house, but his feet were no match for the speed in which they were arriving. A couple of them dismounted and were holding . . . rope and a bag?! Sawyer's eyes slightly widened as he searched around him for some sort of weapon. He had never laid a hand on a sword -- being told of a gruesome past -- so he did not possess a weapon. The closest thing he had was a large wooden stick which he immediately grabbed. Knowing he was no match for trained knights, but he had to at least try. A few more dismounted and pulled out their swords. Sawyer was ready. So that when one of them advanced toward him to attack, Sawyer blocked the blow with the wood, swinging it in return, using the bottom to block another attack, and the top to hit the knight's head!

Huh! Look at that! He just hit a knight! Sawyer basked in his own impressiveness for about two seconds before another knight came toward him. Once again, he used the wood, swinging once, using the bottom to stub the man's toe and rammed the other end in the knight's stomach. That's two down! By himself! What the hell kind of mercenary was he?! The third advanced upon him, or well . . . third and fourth. Sawyer angled the wood just in the right position when blocking the blow, enough to cause the blade to get stuck, at which opportunity he pulled the stick toward him, and yanked out the blade. If he could fight this well with a wooden stick, he could surely do wonders with a sword! But the chance never came, for before he knew it, a knight hit him on the head with the hilt of their sword. Sawyer's vision became blurry, but not enough to knock him out. It only impaired him enough to have another one of the men proceed to tie his hands, as Sawyer blinked rapidly. It was in that precise moment, that he heard an all too familiar voice. Being enough of a distraction to hinder him from further defending himself.

"PAPA! PAPA!" Sawyer spun around to see Aliana running from the house with worry. His eyes widened at the sight, not wanting them to have known about her. For whatever they wanted from him . . . they did not want them to lay a finger on her. "Aliana! Wait!" He cried but that was when he lost his sense of sight as a bag came over his head. Never the less, he struggled more than ever to try and pull free. The last image he would see of his daughter, was a knight grabbing her, tucking her under his arm. "Let her go!" He demanded desperately as he attempted to struggle to get free. He was not above begging when it came to the safety of his daughter. "Please! I haven't done anything!" Why were knights dragging him away from his home?! Why were they separating him from his daughter?! He tried to struggle but to no avail. The last words he heard before being fully knocked unconscious and darkness consumed him, were the tear filled screams and cries of his daughter yelling out his name.

[Guinevère]

The trip to the castle took a few days of hard riding. Often times not even stopping but to rest the horse for a few hours. They kept the imposter gagged and a bag over his head but for the rare times they let him have food and water. Finally they arrived at the castle. It was just hours after dawn when they did. Most where not arisen from their beds yet to see anyone pulled into the castle with a dirty bag covering them.

He was pulled into the throne room and tossed on his knees before the bag was removed. The elder man who stood behind the throne--a large and dark wooden chair with carvings etched into it--watched his with his eyes widening. 'I didn't think it would be true.' He said walking forward. 'You look just like him. Who is you sire? Did your mother even know?' It was clear he was still trying to take in the sight of him.

Looking toward one of his men, he waved a hand and they spoke up. 'We found him picking flowers, right were we were told he would be. Two men stayed behind to make sure no ones saw us. If they did they will be taken care of.'

[Arthur Pendragon]

The ride was excruciating. Sawyer was not used to traveling such great distances, but that was not what had made it so painful. It was not the long distance, the lack of rest, nor the lack of food. It wasn't even the fact that he had not been granted vision once the entire time. Or the curiosity as to why he had been dragged away. The pain, came from not knowing the fate of his daughter. Not once, did he hear he during their travels. She was not with them. And it made his chest and heart hurt in ways that he had not thought imaginable. It made his heartbeat heavy and ache . . . not knowing if his precious daughter was even still alive! No one told him anything, and he feared he was going to go insane if he did not see her. Surely, they would not kill her. Not an innocent little girl. But not knowing, and being left to dwell in all these terrifying possibilities, made Sawyer weak and in constant pain. He just wanted to see her. Just once. But no one was sympathetic to him. They dragged him back, who knows where!

He wasn't even sure how many days had passed. All he knew was that he was catching a different scent in the air, and he felt a different texture on his feet . . . stone. He had so many questions, but was told not to speak. And out of fear for his daughter, he did not. Finally, it seemed that something was going to change in his condition, for he was thrown to the ground and the bag lifted from his head. He squinted, the sudden light around him -- even if it was still somewhat dark -- causing his eyes to hurt. Making him blink rapidly a few times. Until eventually, a man came into sight. A man that he did not know. One that he could only assume had some sort of influence in . . . wait, was he standing near a throne?! Sawyer looked around the room, noticing the wall hangings that bore the mark of a dragon. Just as the knights had worn. Camelot. He was in Camelot.And then the man spoke. Speaking words that Sawyer did not understand. What was true? Who did he look like? Why was he talking about his mother?! Another man spoke of how he found him picking flowers.

It was his last words that caused a shiver to run up Sawyer's spine. What did they mean 'taken care of'? Would they . . . surely they wouldn't kill an innocent witness?! Sawyer feared for any neighbors that may have caught sight of the incident. His friends. His daughter! He looked at the man, his eyes so filled with worry, though tried to maintain strong. "Please Sire," he began, not caring that his voice was dry and hoarse from the lack of nourishment. It was more the fear and pain that was weakening his voice however. "I do not understand what is going on," he said, wondering if he should know about something. Had this something to do with his past as a mercenary? Were his crimes catching up to him? "My daughter. Where is she? I beg of you to release her for she has nothing to do with whatever grievance you have with me." Enough of one to drag him out of his home. He was not ready to believe that they had killed her. No. His Aliana was alive, and he would somehow bring her to safety!

[Guinevère]

When the copy of the former king started begging both men rolled their eyes and looked toward one another. 'This wont work, my lord' The older man who seemed in charge sneered with annoyance, then looked to the copy on his knees. 'Your brat is safe. My men have her in safely tucked away. If you want to see her again, then you are going to have to so something for us.'

'You can be a good boy, get the job done for us. We will give you your brat back, some gold for your troubles, and set you on your way.' He looked at his man who had been one of the ones who had taken the copy here. 'If you refuse, or fail, you will be imprisoned and your little girl set out in the streets. Or woods.' 'We wouldn't want that. The woods surrounding the city hold all sorts of dirty men and hungry beast.' 'You are right my lord, so I suggest he not fail.' They both were watching him, leading up to the moment when they would tell him what they wanted. It was clear they enjoyed the power. The lived for it.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Sawyer's body began to slightly tremble. This time, it was not from trepidation, but from anger. The fear was still there, but he felt a nerve struck in him the first time he heard the man refer to his daughter as a 'brat'. He knew that he was low on the rank of society; that he held no rank. That his status was that of a peasant. But . . . surely, that did not give the man a right to insult his daughter! Someone who Sawyer just happened to be rather protective toward. For she was his only family. As if it could not get any worse, they reiterated the term after threatening to send her out in the woods alone if he did not comply. Leaving her at the mercy of wild beasts, slave traders, bandits and . . . Sawyer felt that agonizing fear surge through him again. For her. Anger at the men for threatening her in such a way.

He didn't even hear anything about gold, for right now that was not what he valued. He didn't even ask what was expecting of him, for right now, he was too distracted by the suggestions they were making. The look on their faces. So Sawyer did something that he never would have imagined he'd ever do. He leaped to his fast and tried to lunge toward the man who dared to threaten his daughter! But it was to no avail as he was almost immediately forced back to his knees. "I swear if any harm comes to her . . . " He knew that threatening a noble -- one who looked to be of high rank -- and even raise their voice to him as he had done now, could make enough grounds for an execution! But Sawyer was not thinking. Only acting out! Being forced back on his knees, the angry expression began to fade as his chest heaved a bit.

Breathing heavy from all the emotions that were racing through him; all the worry in his mind . . . all the fear over his little girl. He was trying to take deep calming breaths, knowing that they were calling the shots, knowing . . . that he would have to play their game, by their rules. "What must I do?" He asked in a more calm, rather compliant and submissive tone. For he was desperate. Desperate to do anything to save Aliana from the wrath of such men. He had not heard too much about Camelot, but he had heard that it was a just and fair kingdom. That the queen strived for equality and justice for all. Was this justice?! Was this fairness?! Sawyer knew he had to hold his tongue . . . for saying anything against these men could cost the life of his beloved daughter.

[Guinevère]

"I swear if any harm comes to her . . . " Neither man flinched as he jumped up to swear meaningless things at them. 'Maybe this will work.' 'He has the arrogant temper, that is for sure.' "What must I do?" 'For starters, learn how to address your betters. Your next audience will be with the queen later today and if you speak out of turn to me again, or around her and we will imprison you.' The way he said the queen suggested loyalty toward her, but there was something slightly on his face that suggested a lie.

'News might not travel to your little town in the woods, but here with the lands of Camelot we are fighting a war. You happen to look like our fallen king . . . so you take his place. Draw out his foes, and make them come to you. Then our knights can end this war, once and for all.' There was holes in the plan but he had made sure that everything was in place before the queen would arrive. So she could not back out. 'If you get yourself killed, or refuse then I think you can guess what might happen.'

[Arthur Pendragon]

Sawyer wasn't sure how to process any of the information the man was telling him. First, he said that he was going to speak to the queen. Why? What for? Him? Speak to the queen herself?! What was he going to say to her?! He had never met someone of such authority and position! The next part that shocked him . . . was when it was revealed that he looked like the fallen king. So he was here because they bore an uncanny resemblance? And then it was the final words that really caused Sawyer to enter a shocked state. That he would take the king's place. If they did not have his daughter, Sawyer would have thought they were kidding. He would not have believed them. He would have laughed! But no. There was no indication on their face that suggested it was a jest. They seemed completely serious, which was just utterly ridiculous. How much could he possibly look like the king? Surely someone would notice! Like oh we'll . . . THE QUEEN! Her husband! How was she not going to be able to tell the difference between him and her deceased husband? Wait, how was Sawyer expected to rule a kingdom?!

He was a farmer! A simple peasant! He knew nothing of war, or politics, or defenses, or . . . any of these things that the men were suggesting he know about! Sawyer knew that he could not refuse . . . not with everything that was at stake. He was not thinking in terms of the kingdom, but rather in terms of his daughter! "I am a peasant, a farmer! I know nothing of the such dealings. I have no knowledge of politics and warfare, and the runnings of a kingdom." They were expecting too much of him! And were blackmailing him with his daughter. "Surely there is someone better suited for this than me." Just because he looked like the king he was going to be thrown in this situation?! What would the queen say? Did she have a part in this? Did she know where his daughter was?! Would she show any more compassion than these men?! He had heard only the best of things about her . . . but now feared meeting her if the kind of men who served her, were ones who stole a little girl and threatened her; holding a four year old child captive!

[Guinevère]

'Stop backing talking! Your talking to a member of the royal family.You will address him with the respect his title has earned him. Not as if he was your milk maid!' The knight snapped at him. 'You will not rule the kingdom, simpleton. Do you have some sort of mental affliction? Did you not hear my words? You are only bait. They need only see you, hear the rumors spread and they will come for you. Play your part until then, and you can have your daughter back.' 'Just be seen, and look like the bloody damn king and not the idiot farmer.'

Just then the doors opened to the chambers and a servant peeped their heads in, 'My lord!--' 'I said not to disturb me!' 'Apologies! You wished to know when the queen was back in the castle!' 'Ah, her carriage was spotted then. She will be here withing the hour.' ' . . . er, apologies again my lord, but she arrived by an unmarked carriage. We didn't know it was her until she exited it.' 'YOU IDIOT! how close is she?' The servant pointed down the hall.

The elder man moved forward to bend down to the copy's face 'If you say a word about your daughter tot eh queen, or hint that you are unwilling in anyway, you will not see her daughter again. We need her to agree, and you are to encourage her to do so! Remember what will happen if you fail!' Backing up he waved his hand on, 'Take him to the side, unbind him. If he does anything subdue him, and set his kid loose.' Then to the copy, 'Play your damn part.' With that they pulled him to the side and cut the ropes on his wrist. 'Don't do anything stupid farmer, you wont find the girl in time.'

[Arthur Pendragon]

Sawyer remained silent, knowing that any other word he uttered could cost his daughter her life. Nervous, did not even begin to describe what he was feeling. He was positively terrified. He was a farmer. That was all he had ever known. How to farm land, and how to be a father. Neither of which was aiding him in this situation. Never, had he felt more helpless. He just gave a small nod in compliance to the men's words. What other choice did he have? He was not going to let his stubbornness be detrimental to Aliana. When he told him not to say that he had a daughter to the queen . . . Arthur then wondered if all the rumors he had heard about her were true. Which meant -- as his words suggested -- that she did not know about this. At least about the part where they kidnapped his daughter. Surely she would not condone such things! Didn't she have any children of her own? He had heard that there was at least an heir to the kingdom. But that was all.

Could he speak to her, parent to parent? Rather than queen to peasant? Sawyer didn't know if she should risk it. If something happened to his daughter, he would never forgive himself. He would die along with her. For she was what kept him going . . . and now . . . he couldn't even see her. Was she hurt? She must be so afraid! Sawyer was pulled from his knees and the rope cut from his hands. He held one wrist with his opposite hand, curling his fingers around it and suppressing a cringe from the burns and marks that the rope left. He was being warned again, making him feel all the more trapped. "Please, let me at least see her. Let me tell her that everything will be fine. She is so young, and she must be so afraid. Just . . . give me five minutes with her, that is all I ask." That was all he was begging for, but it seemed his request would be unmet. For sympathy and compassion did not seem to be traits that belonged to either of these men. Regardless, Sawyer at least had to try!

[Guinevère]

'Shut up you idiot!' Snapped the knight who then turned to stand straight and tall, as if he could stand no other way. All the men in the room did. Event he elder one who was in charge. He took a few steps from the throne and then stood up taller, and clasped his hands before himself. And the whole room waited.

It did not take long for the sounds of quick foot steps to fill the room. For the doors--both of the this time--to be pushed open in advance of the woman who entered. She was not tall, even for a woman, but her hair hung long and her head angled up. Her skin was a cream color, and it offset with her dress almost perfectly. The dress was red and gold, a traveling dress for sure, for the hood up, leaving her hair to frame her face and hang down at her sides rather then behind her.

'Good morning, my lady! I do so hope your tip was--' Her voice was soft yet held something unyielding in it. "What have you done?" She questioned, cutting him off. 'I took measures to assure that we acted before our foes could learn of the farmer--' Again she did not let him finish, coming to stand before him. "You sent armed men into another kingdom! If Lot discovers your actions it could bring war to us!"

'I made sure that no one would tell.' Her shoulders comeback and her head went up. "Would? . . . or could?" He seemed offend by her question. 'Would, my lady. Yet it did not matter. No one saw us escort him out.' "Next time, before you do anything, you will send word to me, and you WILL consult with whomever I leave in charge! You over stepped this time, Agravaine!"

'Forgive me, my lady, I was trying to keep the farmer alive. Should Morgana learn that there was someone who looked like my nephew then she would have killed him.' The queen paused for a moment and walked toward the throne, not looking at anyone in the room as she spoke. "I don't like your plan. I would rather wait for the council to meet and discuss this. . . . . He came willing?" She asked, and Agravaine moved toward the copy. 'Yes, ask him yourself, my lady.'

The queen turned to look where he was walking toward and her cool exterior froze and shifted to one of shock and hurt. He did look like Arthur. Almost exactly! How was that even possible!? How . . . How . . . Arthur!? She would have sworn on her children that it was him but she KNEW better! 'Tell her,' Agravaine was speaking to him, 'How you wanted to come help bring down Morgana Pendragon.'

[Arthur Pendragon]

When the doors opened, and the queen stepped in . . . Sawyer paused. She certainly did look absolutely beautiful . . . but then again, she was a queen. Queen and princesses were meant to look ravishing. He then dropped his gaze to the floor, knowing that it was the respectful thing to do . . . it was the expected thing to do when in a room with those of a higher rank. Especially when that someone was a queen. Sawyer had never been in the same room as a queen before . . . and he didn't feel comfortable being in one now. He just listened silently to the conversation, not daring to speak up. If there was one thing he learned from it -- one thing that filled him with hope -- it was that Queen Guinevère's reputation -- thus far -- seemed to do her justice. He had heard she was a kind, compassionate and caring queen, who loved the people and who the people loved in return. With the way she was speaking about all this, Sawyer wondered if she was willing to help him. But, could he risk it? After all, this was just the first meeting with her. It could be deceiving.

What he did know was that the man -- who was now identified as Agravaine -- had lied about most of what he said. Sawyer had to bite his tongue to keep from speaking up and correcting him with the truth. It was not his place to do so. He was only a peasant . . . he had no right. But then again, he did not believe that they had a right to kidnap his daughter either. She spoke against wanting war, against silencing people in the most permanent way, about Agravaine making such hasty decisions . . . and now, questioning whether he had come willingly. Hell no he had not! He had bound with rope and a bag was put over his head! More importantly, his daughter was being used as leverage. but Sawyer was not dumb enough to take their threats lightly. He was brought here to bring down an enemy that everyone had heard of . . . and he knew that it should be his duty to a kingdom to want to help -- ironically a kingdom he was not even residing in -- but all he could think about was his daughter. All he wanted was her.

"Tell her. How you wanted to come help bring down Morgana Pendragon." Now Sawyer was being questioned to lie. Is this how knights were to the queen? They lied to her? Withheld the truth from her? What kind of loyalty and honesty was that?! And now, they would make him lie to her as well . . . making him a party to such betrayal against a sovereign. But, his daughter was more important to him than any queen or knight or even his own honor. His daughter was his everything. He stepped forward a bit, making sure to casually bring his hands down so that his sleeves concealed his rope burns. His gaze was averted to the ground as he went to his knees in respect, bowing before her. "I came willingly, your Majesty. To serve you in assisting to bring down your enemy." He suppressed any look of hoping or plea; any sign of hesitancy or uncertainty. He tried to speak in as strong of a voice as he could. But for any father who lost their daughter -- who feared for her -- such a thing was not exactly easy. Yet Sawyer fought to do what was demanded of him. For Aliana.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère, queen of Camelot, watched as the man who looked like her husband walked forward and knelt. Her hand came up to cover her lips and she didn't even know it was shaking! "I came willingly, your Majesty. To serve you in assisting to bring down your enemy." HE EVEN SOUND LIKE ARTHUR! Well, in voice but not tone. She took a few steps back, trying to wrap her mind around this! This was--the one not her husband--somehow looked like Arthur! How?! Where had be come from?!

"Oh my goodness!" She whispered as she only just stared at him. Tears filled her eyes as she fought not to react to the sight of her husband--only not her husband! 'No you see my lady why I had to act! Had we not done so then any--' "Stop!" She whispered, not wanting to hear him right now! She could not bring herself to do anything by stare at the man who was not her husband.

She took a few hesitant steps forward and watched him. Lowering her hands she only stared at him, her lips parted and ungaured emotion on her face. Pain. Loneliness. So many other emotions filled her. "Wh--" She paused before she could speak, being a queen didn't mean you were strong no matter what. It just meant you didn't have the luxury to break. "What are you called?"She asked, needing to hear him say any name but the one in her heart.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She seemed so shocked. Did he really look that alike to the previous king of Camelot? He supposed there was enough of a resemblance for the men to drag him all the way here. But her reaction just . . . made it seem like he was identical. Which was an impossibility. While he was not looking directly at her he could see her feet -- though they were covered by her dress -- walk closer toward him. He felt his heart beat quicken when she was standing closer. He didn't know what it was . . . but there was something about her. Something that made his heart race and caused him to fight to keep his breathing leveled. It was probably because she was a queen. Yes. Surely that had to be it. What other explanation was there? After all, he was not used to being the presence of royalty before. And she certainly had a presence about her . . . enough to make him feel this way.

Maybe it was nervousness. Maybe it was fear. All he knew was that he was fighting with every ounce of strength within him, to maintain composed. "What are you called?" His name. He could give that, surely. Well, he didn't have a choice. When one was being questioned by royalty, one answered them. "Sawyer, your Highness," he said, keeping his gaze to the floor, and his knees on the ground. He would not raise either until told otherwise. Should he give more detail? Should he leave it at that? It was certainly difficulty determine what was appropriate, not only because he had never been in the presence of a queen, but because one mistake could cost him the life of his daughter. It was better to speak the minimal amount, and not more than what was needed or necessary.

[Guinevère]

Sawyer. Not Arthur! Not Arthur! Not her husband! Not her heart! Every bit of her soul screamed to take this man in her arms but she knew it was only because he looked so much like her husband! Arthur, her mind called as tears fell over her cheeks, For a moment I thought you had come home to me. But that was a foolish thought. The king was dead, and nothing would bring him back. She took a few more steps forward and bend down at her knees, so she was on the same level as he was.

Sawyer. Not her Arthur. "Will you look at me?" She asked, knowing it almost sounded like she was begging him too rather then a command of a queen. When his face finally tilted up to her's and she saw the pure blue of his eyes she gasps, softly and stood up to stumble backwards. Agravaine moved forward to help her. "He looked just like him!" She said with tears on her cheek. "Every detail that I know in my h-heart."

'Yes, my lady. So you surely must see that--' "Now really is not the time to press me with your plan." Yet she knew that if they were going to do this they had to move before anyone had see him. Before anyone could slip and leak out that they were planning anything. Was this Arthur talking to her? In their bed at night she often asked him out loud for guidance. For him to tell her what she should do. Was he talking now? Did she dare ignore this. "Sawyer,"She asked, making sure her voice was soft. This was not something she could command him to do. "You wish to do this? They plan to use you as bait for Morgana. You know this and stil wish to do this?" If he said yes, then she would do it. If he said no then she would not.

She could not explain the pull. Yet she also knew that she would not be doing this Argavine's way. She would do it her way and make SURE that he was safe, and well paid for afterward. Arthur's messenger would not go un rewarded.

[Arthur Pendragon]

The Queen's next actions shocked him to his very core. He knew that she was an advocate for equality -- as everyone knew the story of how a king married the daughter of a blacksmith. But never, had he expected this. For she was lowering herself to the same eye level as him. It made him feel uncomfortable yet caused something to stir in his heart. He didn't know what. Most likely those same undefined emotions as before. The same way that he had that inexplicable feeling that he was meant to do something else. Maybe this was it. But . . . at the expense of his daughter? "Will you look at me?" Her voice was so soft, so gentle. It was not a harsh command but rather a request. As if she could not shock him anymore, each word she said proved it. His eyes slowly raised to look at her, having more difficulty hiding the emotion in them, but doing all that he could to ensure that they were void of any pain and fear for his daughter's life.

Looking at her so close, it was easy to see the deeper beauty in her. That her appeal was not only on the surface but, something deeper and stronger and . . . Sawyer almost felt a magnetism for her. As if something was pulling him to her; gravitating it . . . and he knew he was being ridiculous! Perhaps it was the natural feeling for any man to be in the presence of such beauty. But seeing the tears in his eyes made him want to, more than ever, beg for his daughter's life. Plead with her to help him for . . . she certainly would not have approved of this behavior. And Agravaine had known that which was why he warned her not to say anything about his daughter being held hostage. "I'm sorry Your Majesty," he said, unsure what he was apologizing for. For making her cry perhaps? For her loss? He didn't know. He also wondered if he was speaking too much wanting to look at Agravaine to see if he could detect any trace of disapproval on his face . . . but he just kept his gaze to the ground. Almost too afraid to look, and respecting the queen too much to do otherwise.

"You wish to do this? They plan to use you as bait for Morgana. You know this and still wish to do this?" "No! They have my four year old daughter captive, and I wish only to hold her in my arms. To take her to safety. Please! She is so young and innocent in all of this. Let me help her and take her home, then do what you will to me. . . . "Yes." This was not what he wanted to say to her. He wanted to beg and plead for her to save his daughter. To ask for her mercy. To swear on his life that he would aid her if only they release his daughter. If only they let him hold her just once more, kiss her forehead and promise her that everything will be alright. He could only imagine her fear, and it was almost enough to bring tears to Sawyer's eyes right now. Yet he managed to withhold them. Knowing that if he let a single tear fall, then he would never see his Aliana ever again. "I wish to aid you in what way I can." It was not a total lie, but it was not the truth either. "I am at your service, Your Majesty." But really, he was a slave to all this.

[Guinevère]

Yes. He said yes. Guinevère's eyes moved to look at the throne for a moment, as if seeking guidance from the man who should be seated there. Alright Arthur, She told him in her mind, I do this. Your way. How you would have done it. "Then arrise." She told Sawyer, "Ifyou are going to help save the kingdom from it's greatest foe, then you will not do so on your knees."

Her mind was working the details of her plan, not about to let Arthur's uncle do anything more. He was a risk to the kingdom, and she had seen that long ago. He was more like Uther, but had less knowlage in how things worked between kingdoms. Or else he surely would not have risked war between them and Lot! She turned her head to look at Agravaine and when he looked as if he might speak she spoke first, "Don't. I am not ready to hear anything anyone has to say."

She needed to go hug her children tightly and cry for a while. "I am going to go seek out my children, and try to find some way to explain them so they are not hurt. I will speak with the counil in a hour." She turned to look at Sawyer and her face became to finaly compose some, though the pain in her eyes was there to see. "If you will follow Elsa, she is my companion, she will take you to the upper floors, and see about getting you a bath, and something to wear. Then we shall speak on what needs to be done."

'My lady, I can handle everything with the farmer, you only need to--' "No!"She turned to him, "Your actions could have cost us a war! You will swear your men's lips silent, and then speak with the each personally. I want to know everything about the trip, who they might have saw, who might have saw them, what trails were crossed, everything. You made this mess, make sure it's it's clean!"

"Then seek out you bed, and get some rest. The counil can meet without you." She was dismissing him from it. 'My lady, that is not wise--' "See it done!" Shetold him, and the walked out leaving Sawyer with Elsa and the others alone.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Then arise." Sawyer did as he was told, though slightly hesitantly. Never the less he rose to his feet, and kept his eyes downcast. She seemed so understanding . . . perhaps if he -- "I am going to go seek out my children, and try to find some way to explain them so they are not hurt." Sawyer could feel his heart literally ache. A parent had a right to their children. She was seeking hers out to make sure they were not hurt . . . and yet his own child was being kept from him. Something that was hurting her and himself. The tears that threatened to spill from his eyes almost fell, but still, they did not. He found some strange source of strength within him that he didn't even know he had. Whatever it was, it was strong enough to make him able to keep his mouth quiet about the truth of his daughter. Even to a woman that seemed to have such a genuine kindness about her.

Again, perhaps Sawyer was just seeing what he wanted to see, and mistaking his emotions . . . but he had to have trust in someone. Something! "Yes, your Highness," he said when she instructed him as to what to do. He could not speak out of turn. Any more than that. He was supposed to be submissive, as Agravaine had told -- or threatened him to do so. Sawyer listened to the conversation between them, and couldn't deny that he felt a bit . . . vindictively pleased, that Agravaine was being told off. That he was being shunned. After all, it was his daughter that the man had kidnapped. He was not proud of the vengeful thoughts that raced through his mind . . . but this subtle revenge of him being scolded and put in his place, was rather pleasing to Sawyer. Even though he dare not show any sign of it. When the queen left the room, he did as instructed and followed the handmaiden to where she led him to a room where a bath was being prepared.

He was firstly bathed -- in a rather unusual way for he was not used to bathing in a tub! how exciting! He was then put into clothing that felt too rich for his skin. He was told they belonged to a 'Sir Kolby' and were a rather good fit. Though he felt uncomfortable in them. He was not a noble, but a peasant. The fabric was of high taste and expensive quality. He felt too . . . out of place wearing such things. But who he was he to object. He was then led to a room where he was told to wait for the queen. Entering, he found his eyes searching at all the different weapons and items in it. Crowns, swords, shields, etc. He wasn't sure what it was . . . but there was something about this room that made him feel . . . those same bizarre and indescribable emotions. They were unsettling yet, comforting at the same time. He didn't know what it was. And decided to distract himself by just walking around, looking at the different items. It looked as if it was a mausoleum of sorts, for the deceased line of Pendragons.