The Wrong Kind of Wrong (Arthur)

[Brynn Reade]

What was the sense of this? What was the sense of anything really? Brynn’s already very pensive mind had just gotten something to deal withthat might be too much to swallow and wrap her head around. Practically overnight a dream for a bright future had shattered. It had not been her dream first and foremost, but it had been shared by everyone in Camelot.
The dream of Arthur and Guinevère.
It was no more.

The town, first practically frozen with shock, was now buzzing with wild speculations and rumors, but they all came down to one totally unbelievable point: Guinevère had betrayed Arthur, his trust and his love. With another knight. With a knight that had practically come back from the dead. With Lancelot. And that on the eve of hers and Arthur’s wedding. It was unbelievable. And Brynn didn’t believe it.
But then, she had to. Gwen had left Camelot at first light and now Arthur was on his own. With nothing but a broken heart, pain and regrets. And so many questions unanswered. Brynn couldn’t even start to imagine how that must feel. She could only compare it to the other love story she knew: Her and Alex. Now, even imagining him wanting another made her so sad she could hardly breathe, but she knew it was only a fraction of what Arthur must feel right now. Because for him it HAD happened. At least that was what everyone was saying.

Brynn was sitting on one of the hayballs on her favourite spot in the meadows, surrounded by their carefreely chatting geese. It were two less than usual. They had been killed already for the feast. The feast that now would never happen. Brynn had not liked to see them go, but she had seen it as a kind of personal sacrifice, and for Arthur’s and Gwen’s happiness she was willing to give much more. She had been so happy for them both, ever since it had become public knowledge that Arthur wanted to make Gwen his queen and the tournament had started. Brynn still remembered her joyous excitement as she had witnessed the tournament, something she dearly loved. It now seemed like a lifetime ago.

”It’s so wrong”, she told Queenie, one of her favourite geese that had just poked her beak curiously against Brynn’s knee. “Arthur and Gwen belong together. Until the end of time. Period!” For Brynn, a little like for her father, the world was set in rather simple patterns sometimes. When something felt right, it ought to stay that way. Just like none other could ever replace the Pendragons as ruling family of Camelot, none other should be at Arthur’s side, being queen that Gwen. She was the right person for it, despite or maybe even because of her status. She was the only person for it.
And now that dream was done.

Suddenly, Brynn thought to catch a movement in the distance, but as she was facing the sun, she could not see who it was and shielded her eyes. Maybe Alex? But he would have more then enough to do with cleaning up everything that had been prepared for the feast. So who would it be?

Tag: Arthur
Timeline: after s4e9
Time of Day: midmorning
Notes: Hope this is okay

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was a man of pride, but he felt his head hanging low. He felt as if he would never be able to face the people again. Not as a king nor a man. He had wanted this so badly. He had wanted to be with Guinevère. He had wanted to marry her and set her on her place next to him on the throne; as his queen. They had been waiting years and years for this day to come. Though they knew it would not come at an easy price. His father's passing had been the only thing that made it possible. With such a grim event, he had managed to find some hope in it. Guinevère had always served to be that light in every darkness. Whenever he was hurt -- physically or emotionally -- she would be there. She would offer him words, advice, and council. She had not only been the woman he fell in love with, but his confidante in so many ways. She was literally his everything. And now, she could not be anything. At any major event, enemies felt it was the perfect opportunity to make a large gesture. As his coronation as prince, more recently his birthday . . . but this time, it was no enemy that destroyed this joyous occasion. Magic and the dark arts of sorcery could not be blamed.

It was the love of one woman; a love that was not for the man she had vowed to marry. Arthur had felt no greater betrayal. Morgana's had been difficult enough to live through, to know and love a sister of the heart his whole life . . . only when discovered that she is a sister of blood, she wished him dead. Even his father, whom he loved with all his heart, had kept such a strong secret from him. One that he felt he was entitled to know. And now, Guinevère. A betrayal that could not be put into words, for it was too painful. Had she just, settled for him? Had she felt an obligation to be with him because he was king? Had, she been betraying him for that entire year Lancelot served as a knight, prior to his death? Arthur had so many questions and yet no means for answers. Hell, he didn't even know if he wanted answers. He just knew that he needed to get away from the people. Those sympathetic looks, those whispers, the rumors; the humiliation, the embarrassment . . . the loss. The loss was the hardest thing to bare. One more day. What had been one more day compared to years. Apparently, it had been life changing. For on the eve of his wedding, he lost all that made his heart beat.

He'd lost his strength; his hope; he love. A walk would not solve this, but it was needed. So he just moved forward, not stopping long enough to think about where he was going. He needed fresh air on the day that was meant to be his wedding. A day that was meant to represent so much; a night where he would just hold her and show her how much he loved her. And now, it was just another day. He didn't realize how far he had strayed from the city, until he heard a soft voice. It was, somewhat familiar but his mind was incapable of making the connection. He just walked a bit further to see who it was. It was not a woman he had spoken to a great deal, but one that he never forgot. Brynn. Meeting some people under some circumstances made them unforgettable. She was such a person. They had seen each other in both their weak and strong moments -- a rather drastic alternation of the two. And he was not quick to forget how she had saved him, simply from a slap across the face. Not that he held it against her. Under the conditions they had been thrown it, it was entirely necessary. And took great courage. For that, he was grateful. But for now, all he did was look at the woman. He didn't know the words to say, nor any reason to speak. He knew that the man she loved, was extremely good friends with Guinevère.

So it added a strange level of awkwardness to this encounter. Even though he was well aware that he'd met her separately, and had gotten to know her separately. How mighty of a king he must look now. He wondered -- though never wanted to ask -- how much respect he had lost from his people. Would they mock him now? Would they never trust his judgment? Some told him he was a great king, but he knew now that was not true. Which was why he needed to try harder. And staring at her silently, was not going to help. "Brynn," he finally greeted, the solemn tone in his voice making it sound more formal than he had intended. He just didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say? A great deal no doubt, but Arthur was not a man who could so easily speak in a long trail of phrases. He did not ramble, or talk endlessly -- unlike some people -- and his currently raised guard and heartbreak, made it even more difficult to know the appropriate thing to say under such an encounter. With a woman that he had not expected to see.

[Brynn Reade]

At first she had thought it to be a trick of the light, had thought her eyes being blinded by the rays of the bright sun – shining so bright as if to mock this very day – that she mistook darker hair for fair gold, and a mere peasant or worksman for the very man she had just thought about: Arthur Pendragon. The man she had seen grow up to be a strong king, the man that had once saved her life when the knights of Medhir had attacked the sleeping Camelot. She had not fallen prey to this spell because she had been outside the city walls, so she had been wide awake in a horrible nightmare.
And then she had saved him, too. It was nothing Brynn liked to think about often, as it had involved raising a hand against royalty. They had both agreed on forgetting this little incident, but as it often was with such promises, the more you tried to forget it, the more it stuck to your mind. But it had made her value this man for more than just her prince and future king. She had seen his caring even for the lowest of his subject, and her admiration had grown into strong affection.

However, this affection had been always harboured from afar, as they didn’t have much to do with each other. They had briefly talked on the day of his temporary coronation, but Brynn was never much in the keep and Arthur was often to be found outside Camelot on various quests. But somehow they had stayed connected, and it had been through Alex and Gwen. They thought of each other as honorary siblings and spent much time together. And where Gwen was, Arthur was never far, and if only in their thoughts.
Yet, especially this fact made a possible encounter with him now so awkward. Brynn didn’t want to remind him of anything that could cause him more pain, so when she recognized him, she actually debated to hide. But that was ridiculous, on the vast meadows there WAS nowhere to hide, and Arthur knew that where the geese were, Brynn couldn’t be far.

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Brynn just couldn’t figure out if and what she should say. It was not her place to speak before the king did, and too late she realized she should have curtsied long ago. Way to make this even more awkward.
Belatedly, she followed the custom, springing to her feet only to lower herself into a reverence. “Your Majesty…” she said rather helplessly, looking up at him. What was there to say, really? Was it her place to say that she felt sorry? No, probably not. She still was but a servant, even though they had been through a rather shaping experience together. But this time she could not help him, she could not even distract him with some bold retorts. This was his burden to bear, and yet he should not bear it at all. This was just so wrong.

”What… what are you doing out here?” she asked softly, hoping it didn’t sound too preposterous. “I’ve never seen you at this place… not that it is any of my business of course…”
Goodness, why couldn’t Alex be here? He would know what to say! He always knew. Brynn was not a woman of words, more of gestures. And if Arthur had not been the king she might have touched his arm already or even hugged him to let him know that he was not alone. It was how she felt, but she knew she could not act on it. It was not her place.

[Arthur Pendragon]

The word awkward was an understatement. Though Arthur also knew that it would always be this way. Especially with the people he knew. The people who knew him and Guinevère. Personally, and not just as the king and future queen. It was why in a way he was dreading patrol with Gwaine later. Because, he did not want to hear how sorry other people were. He didn't want them to talk about how he had been betrayed . . . but it was gossip. And such was the burden of being royalty; always in the public eye. Every action constantly being watched. Everything out in the open. It would have been so much easier had it not been so, public. Yet that was what he had wanted. For he'd never been ashamed of her. He was so proud of her . . . he had been so proud of her. He wanted the world to know that she was the queen.

That he was the luckiest man alive for her to have chosen him out of all the men. Little did he now that she had not. That there was someone else who was above him. And the thought would not have pained him as much, had it not been for the years of lies. For her accepting his proposal. For finding out on the even of his wedding. He questions broke the silence that followed their brief greetings, or acknowledgment of each other rather. She was questioning why he was here. And Arthur lacked the energy to offer a witty retort, or almost sarcastic reply meant in good humor. He just decided to answer it directly, because he was in no mood to play games. Or to pretend to be in a mood that he was not. Besides, it felt impossible to simply smile at the young goose maiden in front of him. "I wanted to go for a walk."

It should be a simple statement, but he knew it was not. He wast he king. King's did not just randomly go for walks, void of any security. But he had. And everyone knew why. He wanted to be somewhere well away from the city, but he did not feel the need to explain that part. Especially as she was all the way out here. And she had already recognized the rarity in him being this far out. It may not be her business . . . but he was here. Standing in her company. So in a way, he supposed it became such; a justified inquiry. "I never come to this place." On foot at least. Leisurely. He had a few places he would, take Guinevère for a picnic, or to enjoy the scenery. But he never came out here alone. Until now. "Do you often venture here?" It was a question . . . for the sake of a question. Because she had asked him something and he felt the need to return the favor.

[Brynn Reade]

Brynn often did not know what to say, she was not a woman of many words, and that was why she often felt so comfortable in Alex’ proximity. He might talk a little much from time to time, but at least he always knew what to say and how to react in certain circumstances. But never before had Brynn really felt so awkward, so helpless and even extradited. Instead of knowing what to say, she only did know what NOT to say, and that might at least be something.
She would not try to talk about Gwen’s betrayal, she would keep away from any words that remotely sounded like ‘sorry’ and she might not even try to convince him of Gwen’s innocence. She had not been there, it was not her place to say anything.
The problem was that then there was not very much left to say at all. She could not even distract him duely, as she didn’t have any idea what to talk about instead, they had so little things in common. If he asked about Alex, she didn’t want to rub it in how happy they both were.

For a walk… that was such a simple sentence and yet it entailed so much more. The King of Camelot didn’t just go for a walk. Well, he could, but usually he had more important business on his mind. Like ruling a kingdom, fighting off evil, finding a queen… but now the very same soon-to-be queen was the reason he was out there, probably trying to escape it all. Should she leave him alone? But then, he was already far too alone, wasn’t he? He should not be forced to go through this alone! Not that she thought herself to be the right company for him or anything, he sure had many people far more suited for that, but Brynn could also not just sit by and do nothing. Seeing him so shattered pained her too.
”A walk is good…” she ventured softly, not knowing how far she could go. Could she really imply that a walk might help him to gather his thoughts about this? Surely he must know that Gwen truly and deeply loved him. Whatever had happened there between her and Lancelot couldn’t be anything but a huge misunderstanding. “…for many things.”
No, she could not say it. Had she been of noble birth, Brynn might have felt more comfortable about giving him some sort of comfort and advice, but banning Gwen from his side probably didn’t make him more favourable towards the whole servant status. Better not risk this fragile and peculiar relationship they had by appearing too bold.

Gladly she took the opportunity to talk about something else. Her geese and her profession was one of the few topics you could really get her to talk in length about, and it was all the while better than this awkward silence and fishing for words!
”Indeed I do, it is my favourite place”, she confirmed with a tentative smile. “It’s not too far from the lower gate, but it’s still remote enough so no one can complain about my chattering lovelies. And they love it here as well… sometimes I think they could find their way here without my help and back.”
One thing she could never tell him though was that out here, hidden from the prying eye, Brynn often talked to the wind and let it play with her hair all it wanted. If anyone knew it would be her death, even though she still couldn’t fathom if this was magic or not. People would see it as such. “And it’s rather peaceful as well”, she concluded, making a wide move with her arm, enclosing the whole scenery. “Sometimes I just sit here for hours and watch the world turning slowly around me.” Camelot and all its problems really seemed minor out here.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"A walk is good…for many things." The sentence had an element of awkwardness to it. Just as the air surrounding this conversation did. He knew there was nothing he could do to alleviate it. Especially not in the current mood and state of mind he was in. Yet he was still standing here, when he should best move along. He was unsure why. For he did not crave company. But perhaps it was just about seeing how Brynn had been after all this time. Never having engaged in conversation with her frequently. He didn't know what he wished to achieve from this conversation. Maybe, one just for the sake of talking? For the sake of distraction? Yes. That was what it was. He knew that a walk would fix nothing.

That getting this fresh air meant nothing. That he would still be left with a broken heart and strong betrayal. How many times would he break until he shattered completely. He was relieved when she continued to speak, talking about the reasons for her having chose this particular location. For the peace it provided, and the familiarity for her geese. It made sense. It was a small escape from the busyness of the city. A way to just spend time with her geese. And she was right; it certainly did seem like a peaceful place. Part of its charm indeed. "It certainly seems like a place of great solace." One that he hoped he was not intruding in. He may be king, but he of all people understood the need to get away from everything and everyone. To take a moment to catch your breath. To collect yourself. To gather your thoughts.

So in that way, he hoped he was not intruding on her moments alone. Or well, with her companions. His eyes fell to them, looking at them, realizing that he seldom saw Brynn outside without them. "Do you have names for each one?" He asked curiously, more curious about how she told them apart, rather than mean it as a comment of mocking. Which was not the tone he had meant to show at all. It was more a softly spoken question, reflecting that curiosity as oppose to mockery. And hopefully, she would not take it the wrong way. Most importantly, it further proved to be a way to keep his mind somewhat off of recent events in Camelot. Even if it was something as simple as asking a maiden about her geese.

[Brynn Reade]

Brynn couldn’t tell if her words had had any effect at all. But Arthur stayed, so she at least had not offended him. Hopefully, time would tell a good end of this tale. It just was so unnecessary, so random. Great loves like Arthur’s and Gwen’s was should not end on such a sudden and sour note. She could do night to nothing to help, but Brynn at least wanted to try within her slim set of possibilities, she thought she owned that to Arthur. Not only for saving her life once. Oh how she wished she could pay him back in a way that would really help him, but only a miracle could set this right now, and frankly, Brynn thought that when magic had left Camelot, the time for miracles had been over. This was not a juggler’s tale after all. She wondered if there had been many songs about the wonderful love between a king and a maid being written already and what the artists now would do with them. They could be ended tragically, but then it may be safer for life and limb never to sing them anywhere. Not as long as this wound was so freshly cut.

Oh yes, it was a place of great solace, it had always been for Brynn. Whatever had happened, whatever trouble had burdened her mind, out here she had been able, if not to forget then at least to cope. But this place also held a few downsides, and the goosemaiden knew them all too well.
”It can be a bit lonely though”, she mused, smiling a little to herself. “Sometimes I wouldn’t mind company, but Alex usually works until dusk or even longer. By then I already have returned. But sometimes it seems like out here I am not a real part of Camelot, as I miss out most of the day.”
A thought crossed her mind and made her shake her head slightly. “Well… at least it once also saved me from falling asleep, didn’t it?”

For a moment Brynn was not sure what she would make of his words. Surely, in his current state of mind, he would not want to mock her? But there were few actually understanding the need she had to form a bond with her fosterlings, so she would understand his slight bemusement. Then again, everyone spending time with geese for more than just one day could not deny that they had personalities worth of a name attached to it. They were not simple walking food!
”Indeed I do, and even though they might look all the same to you, I can tell each one apart. This one for example”, she pointed at a very well proportioned and healthy looking goose, “is Queenie. She is the main mate of Martin, the gander of that little flock. That’s that aggressive fellow over there.” Aggressive was a good way to describe the territorial gander, he had given many male visitors of hers a hard time already. But he did not approach Arthur, and Brynn wondered why. Maybe he felt he was the king? Or did he more like feel that Arthur was no threat to him now, that he was a broken man?

”Then we have Bluedown, who’s feathers show just the tiniest tint of more blueish white – don’t ask me where that comes from – and over there is Bessy… but I’m sure you don’t want to hear all twenty something names.”