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Jan 2, 2022 18:42:54 GMT -5
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Post by Guinevère on Dec 26, 2012 15:19:02 GMT -5
Once there was a boy, a boy of pure magic. He was born to a poor mother, and raised in a poor village. When his mother feared he would find trouble she sent him to a place where she hoped he could find a place in the world. Over the next 11 years many things to would change. Yet when these years came to an end, so did the man that once was the boy.
These year brought the kingdom it's greatest king. The changes and laws he brought to the kingdom saw it grow and unite the lands that once held hostile war. Uther Pendragon built the kingdom, but it was Arthur Pendragon who made it great.
When he fell at the battle of Camlann, he left his wife to take care of the kingdom he loved the most. Betrayed by his own knight, Mordred, and sister, Morgana; Arthur saved his kingdom and the lands of Albion but it cost them their greatest king. It was spoken among the Druids that he was the once and Future King, and that when the kingdom needed him most, Arthur would return. . . .
The warning bells echoed in her gut, and Guinevère took a few deep and calming breaths. "Where is my son?" She asked Percival slowly, and he spoke in a urgent voice, 'We will get him back.' Get him back?! "Quickly," She said in a strong but pleading voice as Percival ran from the room to make haste in helping the others. Her hands were shaking. Amaren. He was just two, and surly was frightened. He was also all she had left of her husband. A gift that had been unknown to him. A month after Percival brought her news of Arthur's death, she found herself with child. Arthur's child. Arthur' heir.
Morgana was dead but not all the danger was gone. Saxons still fought for land. King Lot saw a woman as a ruler as weak, and pressed his men to Camelot's borders. The followers of Morgana seeking to help either side bring and end to the Pendragon rule by stopping Amaren before he could become his father. Now someone had him. Outside the gates. How had they gotten so close? Gaius walked in behind her and Guinevère turned to look for him. "Can you send word to Merlin?" 'Already sent, my lady, though I fear we maybe too to late for him to do any good. Sir Leon will find him. The men will not rest until they do.'
But it mattered not. This was her CHILD! Her son! "Send for Merlin, however many messengers it takes to find him. Tell him . . . . Tell him I am begging him. For his help." Though she knew that she never had to ask. Merlin came sometimes, but he never stayed. Not even for the night.
Turning she walked out of the council chambers, and toward her son's room. There she stood for a moment, just taking in the sight of the overturned chair . . . the bed . . . the toys . . . everything in disarray. The war was in her home now. The wolves at her door. They had her son! "Arthur," She whispered, closing her eyes and talking to him. "Please." Begging the dead did no good, but perhaps he was watching. Perhaps just his name could give her strength. Perhaps . . . just perhaps . . . he could save their son.
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