Recent Posts

As soon as Arthur walked in, he heard laughter and talking coming from the main sitting area. He slowly walked toward the room, peeking through the opened door at everyone sitting there: Thomas with Guinevère and Amaren moving about. He smiled at the sight before opening the door to fully appreciate it. "Having a late night party are we?" He asked teasingly, but before he could get another word in, Amaren squalled and came hurriedly toward him; the rushed action making him stumble and fall to the ground. Amaren didn't seem upset, but more so startled as he picked himself back up and resorted to crawling to Arthur with the piece of hay in his hand.

Thomas hurried toward them too, causing Arthur to put his hand on the young boy's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew he couldn't refer to Amaren as his son in front of Thomas, so kept in mind to avoid using titles like that. Lowering his hand, he moved to his knees, he was in front of Amaren and Thomas, putting his hands out to him so that he could place his tiny ones in Arthur's large palms as he tried to help him stand again."Now whats this new toy you have here?" He asked, referring to the piece of hay. "An early birthday present from Thomas?" He asked jokingly, giving a teasing look to Thomas, before he glanced at Guinevère, smiling at her.

If there was one thing Arthur was utterly embarrassed by . . . it was how many women he had nearly married, or professed his love for, or even humiliated: Sophia, Vivian, Elena, Mithian . . . and Guinevère. Though never did his mind dwell on why they had not married the first time he proposed. It was well in their past, never to be remembered or acknowledged. Right now, they were talking of Sophia, and he knew he had brought up the subject to prove a point about how 'young love' could not be serious, yet it could create serious consequences. "I did," he admitted, ashamed of what he had done. His father had threatened to execute Sophia and her father if he did not back down . . . and for whatever reason, Arthur thought it would be wise to run off with her and marry.

As if that would not have serious repercussions. "Do you recall Lady Sophia?" He asked, wondering if she remembered her for it was many, many years ago. "When my father denied me permission to marry her, we decided to elope. I had been foolish and impulsive and I didn't know why I acted so recklessly. I knew it was not true love, yet it felt like love. And had I gone through with it, I would have spent the rest of my life in regret." Impulsive was the key word in this . . . and he would have to make sure Merrick didn't get any ideas to elope with Anna.

Arthur should have known that his hypocrisy was going to be used against him. It was true that he had fallen in love with Guinevère at an age only a few years older than Anna, but he also knew that it had not been the first time he had believed to be in love . . . it was the only time he had really been in love. But his mind had not forgotten about past women, or one in particular. Her next words however, put these thoughts on hold as Guinevère revealed that they had been meeting for a while. "What do you mean they have been meeting in private?" He asked, with displeased surprise. Merrick had been meeting with his daughter in secret? Chaperoned. But still! Merrick had been meeting with Anna. Arthur was going to beat that boy senseless! He had let him off the hook far too easily and planned to make his warning more apparent the next time he saw him. If he so much as lay a finger on his Anna . . . there would be a great deal that he would need to answer for.

"I want Anna to be happy," he said, which was part of why he was not agreeing to this. "But she has her whole life ahead of her." Words that almost made him cringe for he knew his father had once said the same to him. Though ironically, in that particular case . . . his father had been completely right. "When I was only a couple of years older than Anna, I had thought I was in love." He had never told her the details of this, for it had not been important. He had not been close to Guinevère at the time and nearly running away with Sophia was not something Arthur was proud of. "I nearly eloped with her. Had Merlin not come to stop me, I would have destroyed my future." His future with her. His future as a father. His future as a king. "I do not want her to make any rushed decision and regret it." What if she discovered not to love Merrick, but that it had just been infatuation and lust? He would not take the risk on his daughter being unhappy, for he wanted nothing -- and no one -- but the best for her.

She seemed surprised to hear that he had rejected the proposal and was slightly confused by that. It wasn't as if he had done anything out of the ordinary. Anna had another potential suitor, he dismissed any thoughts of it ever happening . . . and that was it. It was nothing new, yet Guinevère seemed genuinely surprised by it. Her next actions further proved that and further confused him. She turned him and was trying to usher him toward the door, but he stopped moving. Yes? YES?! She wanted him to say Yes?! Why on earth would he ever say yes?! Merrick was a good man, yes. Just as all her other suitors were. But that didn't mean they were good enough to have the right and privilege to call themselves Anna's husband. Surely, Guinevère was joking. He turned around to look at her when she said that Anna loves him. She . . . what? No. That couldn't be true! And the absurdity of it was enough to make Arthur laugh out at the notion.

"Anna is too young. It is nothing but infatuation." Surely. Besides, when would she have been able to 'fall in love with him'. That took time. For Arthur, it had taken days of him living with Guinevère to develop feelings for her . . . and then seeing her every day it had only grown from there. But it wasn't as if Anna ran away for three days to stay with Merrick. Arthur surely would have known about that . . . and run Merrick through because of it. He also completely ignored the fact that while she was young, she was near the age Arthur and Guinevère had been when they fell in love. But he didn't care of it was contradicting of his own experience falling in love. She was his precious baby girl. "Humor me Guinevère, and tell me why I should say yes to him?" Clearly, Arthur wasn't taking this seriously at all. He didn't believe she loved him, even if he thought that Merrick may love her.

The moment she said his name, he knew what was coming. She did not approve of his decision to enter the competition, not that he had ever thought he shouldn't. She spoke words that he knew were true, of this being an opportune time for Morgana or even Odin to strike. For the city would be bustling with activity and crowded with people . . . and anyone was welcomed. Regardless of how dark and shady they appeared to be. He knew it was in Guinevère's nature to worry, as any wife and husband did for each other . . . and it was also in her nature to remain rational and explain things from a logical perspective. He would forever respect that, even if in this particular instance he was not inclined to change his mind. He gave a soft smile, hoping to reassure her worried mind. "I would tell you that you needn't worry, but I know that such words would be trivial to say," he told her teasingly. "I can not let the fear of Morgana and Odin striking, control every aspect of our lives." For if he did, then he would never let Guinevère and the children outside the castle walls.

It was different to take safety precautions-- such as extra security and making sure the queen and their children were guarded at all times. And another to live in a totally sheltered world. "This is not something I can exempt myself from," he continued to explain to her, wanting her to know that he wasn't doing this for foolish pride or reckless arrogance. "As a king, I must participate." As his father had in the years before. Arthur had not been able to prove himself to the people last time and this time . . . he wanted to show them. Of course he could not say that he would be the undefeated champion -- he was even past that arrogant predetermined claim -- but he was confident. "Besides, I will have Excalibur with me," he said on a lighter note, as she was well aware of his never diminishing fascination with his sword that was pulled from the stone all those years ago. "I think that gives me a fairly good chance to get fair in the competition," he said, again in the same joking tone -- though not completely without truth.

She seemed rather fixated on his meeting with Merrick and Arthur wondered why that was. While she spoke of her day and then asked to ensure his was well, it was clear that her curiosity was rested on the rejected knight. When she asked directly what he wished to speak to him about, Arthur knew he couldn't evade the question. He would never lie to Guinevère, not even about smaller things like this that were of no consequence. He believed in total honesty and that was why they were able to have such a strong marriage . . . well, one of the many reasons. "He wished to speak to me about Anna," Arthur said, maintaining that same casualness. It seemed that more and more proposals were coming for her and each time he received one . . . he was disturbed the by the thought of marrying her off like that.

If it was a prince or king, then he couldn't bare the thought of sending her off to another kingdom. If it was a knight, then he would keep a watchful eye on him every time he was at court, as was his daughter. Or every time she was within sight of him. He knew he couldn't shelter her from the world, but he could damn well make sure that no one touched her. "He asked for her hand in marriage," Arthur continued, with the same nonchalant tone, as if the request was nothing new. "The issue was quickly resolved." Just as it always was: with a flat out no. It wasn't even a matter of consideration. The answer would forever be no, regardless of who asked.

Arthur looked at her, concealing his confusion at the question. It wasn't that he didn't understand it but . . . he wondered how she knew about it. Not that he would keep it from her. But for that to be the first thing for her to ask him was, a bit odd. Had Merrick tried to go to Guinevère for her blessing? "It was fine," Arthur answered causally. "Nothing of grave importance." Because Merrick was not the first knight who had asked for Anna's hand in marriage. He saw the way some men looked at her, and all it took was for one glare or a few words -- or some extra time spent on the training field sparring with them -- for them to get the hint: that she was and would forever be unavailable.

"How has your day been thus far?" He asked, not wanting the subject to linger on something that wasn't greatly important. He would of course tell her what Merrick had to say if she truly wanted to know -- for he never kept anything from his wife. But for now, there was no need to dwell on the subject. Because no good would ever come from it. Hopefully Merrick understood that, but if he didn't . . . then Arthur could be very convincing indeed.

The more Merrick spoke, the more Arthur just stared at him. Arthur knew the answer the second Merrick had made the request. No. A flat out simple non-debatable answer of no. Did Merrick even know what love was? Despite Arthur's contradicting thoughts of how just moments ago he could tell Merrick was in love and reminded him of his younger self . . . well, Arthur didn't care about hypocrisy. He was not going to risk it on his only daughter. He wasn't sure how long he was just staring at Merrick. Could have been moments, could have been hours. What he did know was that he was to meet his wife soon for lunch, and that this meeting was over. He slowly rose to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on the knight. He would forever keep a watchful eye on him from now on. To see if he was looking too longingly at his daughter. Arthur knew what it was like to have a forbidden love, to not be able to with that person . . . and thus, he knew exactly what signs to look for from Merrick.

"No." His tone was blunt, stubborn, leaving no room for protest. A simple no would suffice and Arthur was not going to reconsider or revisit this conversation. That was all there was to say. No. And to further show that this subject was not up for debate, Arthur walked toward the door and exited the room. Merrick had fallen under Arthur's watch, and he would indeed make sure that he did not get too close to Anna. At the same time, this was just a causal rejection of not the first proposal for her, and what he knew would not be the last. So there was no need to make a huge deal about it. He would just silently watch the knight like a hawk. So with that certainty in mind, he walked toward his and Guinevère's chambers for their lunch. And when he got there, already saw her waiting. Seeing her almost instantly calmed his emotions and any sternness was fully gone. He smiled at her and walked toward her, casually kissing her cheek. "Guinevère," he greeted, needing this lunch more than ever to dismiss all thoughts of everything that Merrick had said to him.

Arthur had to admit that he was a bit relieved when Merrick removed himself from his position, and then he went on to assure him that it was a woman he was in love with. Arthur remained silent, for Merrick seemed to finally ease his nerves enough to speak. He did indeed sound like a fool in love. How did Arthur know this? Because he had once been exactly like Merrick. When he'd first fallen in love with Guinevère, he'd been a fumbling fool; constantly frazzled in her presence, unable to think clearly, always at a loss of words . . . while he'd managed to move past this a little, she still managed to make him feel frazzled at times. It was the way it tended to be, when a man was so in love. So in that way, Merrick reminded Arthur of himself, when he was younger . . . and so strongly in love. It was also how Arthur could tell that the knight was sincere. Merrick was an honorable man and Arthur didn't doubt that whomever this woman was, would be loved and cared for.

Arthur also wanted to assure him that rank would not matter, for it had not stood in his way when marrying Guinevère. And if she was unwilling to look past that . . . then perhaps she was not worthy of his love. He sounded so genuine in his feelings for her, and Arthur found himself extremely curious to know who the woman was. What noble in court would Merrick feel the need to ask Arthur about? But the king remained respectfully quiet, letting Amaren explaining. Beautiful, smart and witty did not exactly narrow it down. Was it Rosa's daughter? Or someone else that he didn't -- . . . . . . . That was when Arthur froze. The first words of him wanting to ask the father . . . and then the confirming words of him wanting to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage. Anna. His Anna. His little princess. While Merrick was not the first to ask such a thing, it had slightly caught Arthur off guard.

Every thought that Arthur had about how Merrick would make a good husband, suddenly fled from his mind. While he knew he would . . . he would not be Anna's husband. For as good a man as Merrick was, no one would ever be good enough for his Anna. And that was why he had repeatedly rejected any proposals that came from Prince's, or King's and Queen's for their sons. Or any knights or other nobles that wished for her hand. It would never be easily gained -- if it was ever gained. For Anna would forever be his baby girl. And Merrick would not marry her. That was all there was to it. So Arthur's expression transformed from what it was, to a more stern and hardened expression. Stone cold in fact, as he just stared at Merrick. For this was not a request he took lightly, nor one he would grant permission for.