Sleepless Knight

[Arthur Pendragon]

It was late at night but sleep eluded Arthur just as it had been doing for the past few weeks. Perhaps it had something to do with the newly bestowed pressures on him for he was now king of Camelot. With that, came immense responsibility; for while he was always expected to take this role, no one expected it to be so soon. Or perhaps it had more to do with the concern he felt towards his father's mental and physical state, mixed with conflicting anger and hurt towards him for having lied about his sister for the entirety of his life. Or perhaps it had to do with the strong pain of Morgana's betrayal, something that still left him in a strange state of shock despite what his eyes showed him and what others told him of all that she had done. Or maybe . . . no, most certainly, it was a mixture of all these things that kept him awake. Usually Guinevère was able to provide some peace of mind to him, and help him catch a few hours of sleep here and there. But she was resting, and he was glad for it . . . not wishing to disturb her.

This is what brought him to the vacant streets of Camelot at this late hour. It was the middle of the night and the streets were void of anyone for most civilians were resting in their beds, sleeping, regaining energy for the next morning and another day full of activity. He was dressed in every day attire: a red shirt, brown pants, and boots. He carried -- as always -- a sword in its sheath and attached to his belt worn around him. The night air was still and warm, with a cool breeze that practically perfected it. He would stop occasionally to converse with the guards and knights who were patrolling the cities and ensuring its safety. But other than that, he wished to be alone in his thought, no matter how dark and pain ridden they were.

He found himself wandering further and further from the courtyard of the castle, nearing the outer areas of the city. It was here that he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts, distracted by a sound, or sounds rather. It was not an approaching guard or knight to inquire his reason for being out at this late hour. There were numerous noises, and they were coming from an abandoned alley way. Arthur's instincts told him that there was something going on and he trusted them enough to pull his sword out of its holder and make his way towards the source of the sound. He was on one end of the alley way and in the distance, near the middle of it, he saw a few shadowed figures. He walked at a quickened but cautious pace. It did not take long for him to properly see those involved. There were a few men and a woman, and it seemed that the woman was in some way or another being harassed by them. "What is going on here?" He asked, his tone holding a strong authority to it, demanding to know the meaning of this late night encounter for he had a strong feeling that it was at the poor woman's expense.


_{Setting: In the streets of the city of Camelot
Time of Day: Late at night
Timeline: A few weeks after season 3
Tag: Flavia Thorn
Notes: Hope this is alright! Let me know if you'd like me to change anything!}

[Flavia Thorn]

Flavia was exhausted. She had just spent two days walking from Ostia, her former home town, praying that she could find solace in a new, nearby (she had hoped, and failed to obtain) town or city.

She had lived in Ostia all her life. Although a small, busy port town she had never been afraid of exploring every piece of it with her friends, Rose, Emily and Jonathan, even the parts that the villagers were told were out of bounds to them. They knew every inch of the city like the backof their hands.

Flavia had always been independent. A trait hugely not approved of by her old fashioned family. Emily and her, the leaders of their group, were always found exploring little known areas of the city and; although danger rarely befell them, they were constantly being caught by vilgiles and sometimes their parents.

Her father mainly punished her by locking her in the house, with her tutor as a guard,but one day he decided to do things differently.

A new, suspicious looking group of people had entered the town. Preaching that they, if they had control of the town, would increase its profits in food, education, living space and cleanliness. This group of people had not revealed how they would do things differently. So, as Flavia had thought this odd, she convinced Emily to sneak out with her to discover their secret, confident that nothing bad would come of their adventure. She was wrong.

The 'hechiceros' as they called themselves, had set up camp in a medium sized, well built house on the edge of town. It was a clear night when they sneaked up to the house, wearing a cloak dark enough to look invisible (as it was the same colour as the night sky). What Flavia saw she couldn't believe. They were saying words she had never heard before (even with her tutor) and when they said these words impossible things were happening. Fire, food and water appearing out of thin air. One man seemed to be controling the leaves at the bottom of a nearby tree.
'Magic' she thought, locking eyes with Emily, and by the expression on her face she thought the same. Report it to the town elders in the morning she thought. But when she did this, trouble arrived.

Rushing to them the next day, Flavia was only met by laughter. 'That's impossible' she was told, as the former king, Uther, before King Arthur had acended the throne had banned magic throught the kingdom. Arthur showed no sign of changing this.

She spied on the group weekly always met by narrow minded idiots, she thought, who told her that she was seeing things. After a month of continuous "bother" to the elders, her father was informed. What he did to punish Flavia was totally unexpected. The stocks.

After hours of being pelted with rotten fruit, by villagers who shared the village elders view, Flavia was released by her father. Not out of pity she learned, but to see the elders.

She was informed that after an interigation of the strangers and a rift through their possessions, the viliges had found no trace of magic. No spellbooks, potion ingredients, nothing.

The worst was yet to come. After a two hour long interrigation of her own, she was told she was to be banished from the city, never to return, not just because of this incident but also all previous explorations with her friends, as one day they had unknowingly wandered over land owned by the chief elder.

And now here she was, exhausted and travelling to nowhere. Though, she could see a tall building in the distance.Two grey turrets, a clear sign of a town.

"At last" she thought, "shelter". Walking through the city gate she walked through the paths, taking in her new surroundings.

Market Day it seemed to be. Rows and rows of wooden stalls selling a variety of home grown and exotic products. Fruit and vegetables from around Camelot (she had asked a man the name of the town) and nearby villages, exotic coloured cloth and clothes from North Africa, animals for sale, food from Italia, Greece, Africa. All in the shadow of the legendary Camelot castle, she thought having heard stories about it when she was a child.

After spending an hour or two exploring the stalls, Flavia realised that night had fallen. She saw a small building in the distance, that looked her as if it had lodgings, and started walking towards it, however a group of men blocked her path. Two were familiar. Two of the hechiceros ready to cause her more trouble. One who she had seen control fire, the other who could lift objects while being metres away.

"Hello darling," the 'fire man' said, leering at her. "Lost?"

Flavia was just about to kick him where it hurt so she could be make her way to the lodgings, when she saw a tall, important looking, blonde haired man with a look of concern on his face.

'Please help me out of this catastrophe' Flavia thought, as the men caught sight of him.

Setting: In the streets of the city of Camelot
Time of Day: Late at night
Timeline: A few weeks after season 3
Words: 888
Tag: Arthur Pendragon
Notes:
Viliges is the Roman equivelent to policemen. No idea what the medieval equivelent is, so I used that

No need to change anything, it's great!

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur watched the men carefully, before his glance briefly rested on the woman, to make sure she was alright above all else. She looked worn; clearly a traveler from somewhere else. Either way, she did not seem harmed by the others . . . not yet anyway. And Arthur would ensure that it stayed that way. "What is the meaning of this?" He said commandingly, lowering the sword to rest by his side but firmly gripping the hilt of it. He noticed that they failed to answer earlier question so he stood there, awaiting a proper response. He could tell from the men's expressions that they had not been expecting to be disturbed; they were not anticipating someone intervene on her behalf. He hated such men; the crude minds of men and their thoughts of vulgarity almost made him nauseous. It was revolting . . . the men with such minds. He was unsure what they planned to do with her but just the fact that they were blocking her passage, and it was the middle of the night . . . well, putting such things together, it did not take a genius to fear what could be happening.

One of the men looked to him, eying the sword in his hand. "Mind your business," one of them snapped. That was when it was clear . . . that they did not know who they were speaking to in such a way. They did not know that they were referring to the king of Camelot. Arthur kept a strong stance though, not the slightest bit intimidated by the fact that he was outnumbered. He had encountered such men in the past, and while they had the advantage of numbers, he knew his skills exceeded theirs. They would have no formal training and would attack with no strategy. It was after all, why they had decided to pick on the young woman . . . because they could. Because they felt they could over power her. Again, the mere thought was revolting and sent a surge of anger through the young king, though he remained entirely composed. "Best be on your way," Another one told him tauntingly, clearly developing some sort of confidence from the words of the first. But as before, Arthur was not phased by it.

"Let her be." Arthur's order was simple yet firm. And even while speaking it, he knew they would not comply right away. One of the men sneered, and the others emitted deep, sadistic chuckles. Arthur looked at the girl, giving her a brief reassuring expression, as if to say that she need not be worried. But his attention mostly remained on the men surrounding him, knowing better than to become distracted when in the presence of one's enemy. It was important to never take your eye off your opponent for it would be your biggest weakness, and your enemy's greatest advantage. "I don't think so." One of the men stated and suddenly lunged towards the king with a fairly large dagger in hand. Arthur immediately raised his sword, turning it the other way so that he hit the man with the handle of his weapon. It obviously did not kill him, but was just enough pressure and right at the perfect angle to break his nose, causing him to cry out in pain and his vision to blur from the tears. Another man came towards him, and this time, Arthur had to use his blade to block his swing, the clanging of metal filling the otherwise silent air.

Once he blocked his blow, Arthur rammed his elbow into the man's stomach before pushing him back in his impaired state, which sent the man to the ground. The other two had finally stepped away from the woman, holding their hands out as if they were unsure as what to do. He just stood there, waiting for their move. The confusion and uncertainty was so clear in their expressions that he doubted they would openly attack. And they didn't. Well, not exactly. When one suddenly lunged to reach for the woman -- probably going to use her for leverage -- Arthur moved towards him, pushing him against the wall, hard enough for him to cringe at the sudden pain in his shoulder and arm before collapsing to the ground to clutch it. The other two men . . . ran. Arthur paused to look at the scene before him, of the men sprawled to the ground, defeated. He looked at the woman, now finally able to get a proper look at her, thanks to the light from the moon to shine the dark streets. "Are you alright?" He asked her, his voice softened a bit from his earlier tone used to address the men, as it held a genuine concern in it. His eyes searched over her, trying to see any sign of injury.

[[ Awwww Thanks!! As was yours!!! Sorry I couldn't match the length!! hahah! Hope it makes sense! ]]

[Flavia Thorn]

Flavia couldn't believe it. She had moved to Camelot in hope of a quiet, trouble free life. Judging by the event that had just passed,that dream was out of the window.

"Well," she thought, "at least I didn't have to give them a reason to hurt me".

Noticing that the young man, her saviour, was looking at her with concern she stopped thinking. He was a man of medium height with blonde hair, wearing typically ordinary clothes but something about the way he held himself made him seem to be of importance. Not just your average villager who went for a tankard of mead every evening, drowning away his sorrows. The skillful way that he had used his sword against her would-be attackers furthermore confirmed this.

She also couldn't help noticing that he was very good looking. This thought made her think back to her time in her previous home of Ostia. The boy she had fallen in love with. The boy who had been dragged away to a faraway village ('Mercia' she had found out that it was called) before she could even confess her feelings. Before they could spend long enough time together to have a proper conversation.

They had first met in the marketplace, which on that day was a substitute for the town elder's quarters as a group of boys had set fire to it only days before (one of them, Flavia thought with a smile, had been her brother).

Snapping out of this daydream, Flavia remembered the boy in front of her. He had asked she if she was alright. She obviously wasn't, so Flavia started to tell him about the events that had brought her to Camelot, praying that he could help her:

"The elder of Ostia had just finished his monthly talk, and announced that 3 members of the nearby Atlanas (as they called themselves) were going to talk about their new playin the afternoon, the opening of which was the next day. I had looked up in interest, as I wanted the chance to be in a play myself.

That evening I stood with all the other curious villiagers and waited for a chance to speak. Just as I was about to speak she saw him. A boy of medium height with dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. I was so bewitched by his appearance that I almost tripped over a carelessly placed stool. I made such an idiot of myself.

After asking about how I could have the chance to perform in a play and how I could be as successful as them, I sat down and listened to the answer of the eldest looking member of the group. As he was saying how it was pointless to try as the Atlantas were only a few in hundreds that had been blessed with success my mind wandered. It was then that I noticed that I had caught someone's eye. The boy was giving me a small smile, obviously noticing how bored I was, which I returned. After minutes of this the older man coughed, signalling that he had finished speaking.

By the time it was the boy's turn to speak (Colin, I had learned his name was), I found it so hard to resist the urge to run up to their seats and hug him because he seemed so nervous, hardly able to get his words out.

Just as about a girl next to her was about to ask a question, I heard a woman scream. "Bandits!" she cried. Suddenly I saw a group of heavely armour clad men with swords running towards the market place. The emblem on their chests showed that they had a powerful leader. A blue shield on which was grey tower.

I knew from childhood stories that these men were from the powerful kingdom of Mercia, enemies of the nearby equally powerful realm of Camelot, ruled by the prestigious Pendragon family. Before I had time to register this however, the men were charging towards the marketplace. Slicing their swords hap-hazardly not caring if they killed people in the process.

Obviously shocked by this event, the boy who I had laid eyes on earlier was trying to stop the panic, but failing miserably. However, he was causing enough change to attract the attention of one of the bandits,the leader by the look of him.

In a split second the man had creeped up behind him, grabbing him from behind, putting a knife to his throat. 'Villagers of Ostia!' the man shouted, 'Your town has now become part of the realm of Mercia. Anyone who disagrees will be killed, quicker than it will take me to slit this boy's throat'. The poor boy was as white as a sheet, a look of sheer terror on his face.

I couldn't stand this any longer. "'We will gladly submit to becoming part of the kingdom of Mercia, however, you have no right to harm Colin...' I paused, not knowing how to continue.

The man locked eyes with me and said 'What right do you have to submit your town to ours?'. I stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

'Answer me now, or you will pay for your insolence...' I stayed rooted to the spot my mind blank. Colin locked eyes with me, pleading in his expression. "Go..." he mouthed, obviously worried for her safety.
Mouthing my thanks, and praying that I would have the chance to see him again soon, I fled. My destination Camelot, rivals of Mercia, who I prayed would be able to rid Ostia of these tyrants."




Safety had not been achieved however, as on her way to plead her case with the Pendragons, Flavia had been ambushed by the lesser men of the bandits on orders it seemed.

Luckily she had been saved by the blonde haired man opposite her. She wondered, now he had heard her story if he could direct her to the town council, so I can ask for help to rid her city of the prats who now occupied it. Or better still, she thought, get together a group of his equally skilled (she hoped) friends to rid the town of the bandits themselves,to save the council the trouble of orcanising a group of men to help. And after this maybe help her safe Colin, if it was possible.

"Would you be able to help me rid my town of the bandits?" she asked the man in front of her, praying that he could. "Also, I never asked your name. What is it? I'm Flavia".

[[Hope that's ok, sorry if I've confused you.
Inspiration - www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnF4mr9r8Zs ]]

[Arthur Pendragon]

"At least I didn't have to give them a reason to hurt me." Arthur doubted she could do anything to justify a group of men harassing, or attacking a young woman. It was one of the most vile of things and Arthur never condoned such behavior. He hated that such things took place in Camelot, but also knew it could not be prevented. No one could control the minds of men. No matter how much he wished he could discourage them from such thoughts. But Arthur did not say anything in reply, for she began to tell him of a story; the story of her life. It began with love. That, was something Arthur could relate to. Though his relationship with Guinevère had not been one that entailed 'love at first sight'. It had taken time, and unusual circumstances to bring them together. But every moment was worth the wait . . . even if he had not been fully aware of what he'd been waiting for.

To hear Flavia speak of a man in such an affectionate way caused a small smile on his lips. He was never good at vocalizing his own emotions, but he gave a small reaction over having heard her speak so highly of him. Yet, he knew that the story would not have the most happy of endings. For she was not with him now. She was seemingly alone, and that made Arthur remain silent, continuing to listen to her explain the history of what brought her here. It was then that she began to speak of bandits . . . and it was starting to make a bit more sense. Her village would not have been the only one attached by bandits, even destroyed by them. And Arthur hated thinking of how many people suffered at the hands of such raiders. His mind wandered back to Ealdor, and traveling there with Guinevère, Merlin, Hunith and . . . Morgana. They had helped one village and while it was wonderful to have seen them keep their land, he knew it was just one of the many villages that were bullied and tormented by men like Kanen.

Her village seemed to be no exception to this. It was when she said where these bandits were from that surprised him. Mercian? Surely the Mercian knights -- who were the only ones who would wear something that bore a Mercian crest -- would not have randomly raided a village. They would not have been bandits. So were they men in the guise of knights? Arthur withheld any questions, continuing to listen to her. "Enemies of the nearby equally powerful realm of Camelot, ruled by the prestigious Pendragon family." The last part of her sentence would have caused yet another smile on his lips, but the first part of what she said distracted this emotion. Enemies of Camelot. True, there had been tensions between Camelot and Mercia, but those were long over. After having signed the treaty, there was nothing but peace between these two kingdoms. Yet again, Arthur did not bring this to light -- if she did not already know of their established peace that has been in existence for the past few years .

When the story reached its climatic end, speaking of how she had been separated by the man she loved, Arthur could not help but feel sympathetic towards his cause. She had come here to Camelot, seeking refuge. He was now king of Camelot, and he wanted to help the people as much as he could. He did not want anyone to suffer, or lose their homes, but if it was now Mercian territory, he could not directly interfere. So he paused when she asked her question. Asking him if he would help her rid her town of bandits. This was a political issue, and nothing as simple as direct intervention from Camelot. "I would like nothing more than to help you," he began, keeping a strong sincerity in his voice, though it held a bit of formality as well. For this was a subject that required professionalism. "Mercia and Camelot are now allies," he continued to explain. It was interesting, that she was asking him for his help even before she knew of his true status. Was she that much in need for aid?

Arthur felt all the worse for not being able to easily accept. But there was a great deal that needed to be considered, for he could not jeopardize the entirety of two kingdoms . . . he could not jeopardize Mercia and Camelot's alliance for it had taken years to establish. But of course, he could not expect her to understand fully what she was asking of him, for she did not yet know he was currently king of Camelot. "To intervene in such political matters would put Camelot at great risk." He paused, when she asked his name and decided now, he had best explain who he was. So that he could better explain how to go about helping her. For he felt he could not turn a blind eye. Surely, there had to be some middle ground. "My name is Arthur Pendragon," he said, with a ever so slight smile. She knew of the Pendragon name, so she would know who he was just by revealing his full name.

[Flavia Thorn]

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Flavia couldn't believe how lucky she had got. Having to flee her town, fearing the worst and now she had ran into not what only seemed a concerned man but one who had turned out to have some power, some influence, that may be able to rid her town of the bandits.

Arthur Pendragon. Prince of Camelot, who was already gaining a reputation of being fair and just, considering people from all different statuses equally. So many stories she had heard about him. Countless monsters and people and sorcerers bent on destroying the city had met their end at his hands. His servant Merlin had always delayed these occurances according to drunken men wandering near the taverns, although because of the state of mind of the informers, Flavia doubted that this fact was true.

And then she turned her thoughts back to the present. "Mercia and Camelot are now allies" Arthur had said. But how could that be true if these bandits had said they were from there? Could they have perhaps used a false name, believing that as Mercia and Camelot were at peace, saying that they were from there would not arise suspicion, their raid of a small town would just go unnoticed by Camelot, innocent people killed but their fate not known, the fate of the ones alive uncertain, their village in ruins not having the tools or labour to help rebuild it. And what of Colin? Months it seemed like since she last saw him, she hadn't had the chance to talk to him, to ask where he lived so she could see what befell him after she had fled...

In regards to the events in Ostia, "To intervene in such political matters would put Camelot at great risk." Arthur had told her. But how would she save her town? Restore it? Although she doubted she could return there unless risking being interigated about her whereabouts by the bandits, she still felt it was her duty to get the town free of the bandits. Allies or no allies.

She gathered her thoughts, and decided to be bold and just ask the obvious question, even if she herself risked trouble of a different kind to bandits here in Camelot. Being dragged away and thrown in a cell for addressing the crown Prince so forwardly, like they were equals...

"I understand about the possible political uprest you helping me may cause, but how am I supposed to rid my town of these clotpoles?" Flavia said, praying that she wouldn't be sent away, the fate of her town destined to be destruction.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She did not seem surprised to hear his name, his full name. Though her silence led him to believe, or assume rather, that her mind was working quickly. Also, interestingly enough, she did not change the tone in which she spoke to him. He was rather used to other curtsying, using titles as My Lord, Sire, or Highness. Though he vouched for equality, his actions proving as such, he also found such things respectful. Not that he found Flavia disrespectful. He was just a tad surprised but then, she obviously had far greater important things to be concerned about: such as the future of her home. Her question was a valid one . . . bluntly spoken but it was after all the focus of this entire conversation. If they were knights of Mercia, Arthur could not join in the name calling. Kings and rulers were sensitive when other kingdoms intervened in their personal affairs; for the personal in those cases was political.

Arthur paused in a thoughtful silence, trying to determine what the source of action would be so that he could both help her, but not jeopardize the peace treaty that had taken so many years to establish. There was a far great more than just one town at stake: the future of two kingdoms. And Arthur certainly did not want to risk another war: the one with Escetia was bad enough. Camelot was still recovering from that, not to mention Morgana's week of tyranny, which had caused more damage -- mostly emotionally -- than possibly imagined. "I will speak to Lord Bayard," he told her. Hopefully, he could find a way to bring forth this subject the next time they met. But at the same time, Arthur was a man of his word and he could not give false promises, which was why he had not sworn that he would save her town.

He would do all within his capability, but if they were knights; then that was an entirely different issue for it meant they were there under Lord Bayard's orders. If they were bandits, much like Kanen was in Ealdor, then it may be an easier situation to remedy. "If they are knights, they were there under his orders and I am afraid that it is not within my jurisdiction to involve myself," he explained to her, speaking aloud his thoughts. "I will try to find out more information about who is there, and the plans for this town of yours." That was something he could at the very least do. Lord Bayard was a reasonable man, and Arthur would ensure he did not offend him in any way. "In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here in Camelot," he added, offering her a sanctuary here rather than cast her out with no where to go other than a brutalized village that is otherwise her home.

[Flavia Thorn]

Flavia couldn't believe it. Not only had Arthur defended her from her persuers and taken care of them, he had also offered her amnesty. Amnesty in one of the most reknowned cities.

The only problem was she knew no one here, even if she was lucky to make a new life in Camelot, she would always be homesick. Her friends, Emily, Nubia and Jonathan she had no idea where they had went after the bandits attacked.

She smiled, when she thought of her friends. Emily in particular...she would be so jealous of the events that had befallen her. Well maybe not the being assaulted by bandits part...meeting Prince Arthur.

Emily had always had a soft spot for him. Which she was constantly teased about by Jonathan, and, she guiltly admitted it, by herself. Flavia always defended Emily if things got too hurtful though, despite not knowing what is was like to be in love. Well not until Colin had come along... Where was he, she wondered? Had he thought of her as often as she thought of him? Or at all? She would ask Arthur. If he had seen anyone of his description. But first...the magic.

"I will speak to Lord Bayard" Arthur had told her. Maybe he could soon, but surely her's was one of thousands of requests to end trouble that was given to Lord Bayard. Maybe the fact that she had seen the bandits using magic openly, taking no effort to hide it from possible passersby would make her request climb the ladder of importance. Arthur's father, Uther, did have an absurd hatred of magic.

Even if you used it for good, like for healing like she did or for just mucking about with a few chosen friends, whom she trusted, with the ancient book of magic that had been passed down to her by her grandfather, with no intention of seriously harming anyone, unlike the bandits.

"Thank you for offering to speak to Lord Bayard about my request" Flavia said. "I have something to add" she paused cautiously, then told Arthur of what she had witnessed before the bandits had noticed her. "Would you consider that an important factor?"

Then she thought, it's now or never, "Also, the boy I was talking about. Have you seen him recently? Maybe being dragged away by bandits?" she gave a small laugh, although she found the situation not one bit funny, the image in her mind was comical.

She waited expectantly, hoping that Arthur had answers to both her questions.