The Long Road Home, Ch. 14
**I know, this should have been posted yesterday. I currently have a case of the Shipper Blues (FU, Johnny Capps!) so that’s been affecting my writing. It will blow over, always does. Also, the original plan was for the last chapter to be 15, but now there may be an epilogue after 15. Apparently I am unable to make edits without dramatically increasing word count.
Thank you thank you and cookies for the comments, your loyal reading keeps me motivated!
Consider my icon an illustration for this chapter. ;)
Chapter 14
Morgana paced nervously in Gwen’s cottage as she waited for Arthur and Merlin to return from seeing the King.
“Relax, my Lady,” her maid begged. “Fretting won’t do any good. How about I fetch you some tea? It will make you feel calmer.”
Morgana shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” She rubbed her hands together briskly in agitation, talking more to herself than Gwen. “Everything will be fine. Besides, it doesn’t matter what Uther says. Arthur and I were legally married - social obligations be damned! He can have me flogged in the courtyard for all I care.”
“Uther loves you,” Gwen said. “Even if he is angry he’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Morgana murmured. “I fear for Arthur’s future, as the rightful King of Camelot.” Then she remembered Kian’s dream, seeing her as a happy queen. Could he be right? She had that hope to cling to.
As if on cue a light knock sounded on the door, and she rushed to open it, nearly forgetting it was Gwen’s house and not her own. Arthur and Merlin stood outside, and she could tell from the look on Arthur’s face that things hadn’t gone well. A knot of disappointment formed in her stomach as the men entered. “Well? How did he take it” she asked meekly.
“Not good. Father is positively livid. Maybe it would have been better if Merlin hadn’t gone in there like some bumbling idiot!” Arthur scowled.
“I did exactly what you told me to do!” Merlin protested.
“Don’t blame him for your father’s attitude,” Morgana said, lightly caressing Arthur’s arm, her touch calming him instantly.
He sighed. “You’re right, I know it. I’m not sure he would have welcomed the news no matter who the messenger.” He begrudgingly cast Merlin a vague look that might possibly be construed as an apology.
“Maybe I should go talk to Uther,” she suggested. “I’m probably the one he is more upset with. If I can explain to him that I did everything I was supposed to do, that he hadn’t given me any orders of what to do if Tormod died...”.
“No, whatever you do, don’t do that. He wants us both out of his sight,” Arthur confessed. “He took the marriage document and is going to have Geoffrey of Monmouth look into an annulment.”
“That’s ridiculous! The marriage was legal,” Morgana spat angrily. “He couldn’t possibly find fault with the document any more than he could find fault with his own claim to the throne.” It doesn’t matter what a piece of paper said, she reminded herself. Body and soul, she was now married to Arthur.
“We’ll just have to bide our time for awhile,” he told her. “I still believe he’ll eventually come around. But for now we are both banished from the castle. The guards were given orders not to allow us inside. We’ll have to find another place to stay.”
“You can stay here,” Gwen piped up. “I’ll sleep in Morgana’s chambers - I’ll slip into the castle with some laundry and no one will even think twice about it. This little house is not what you are used to, granted, but it’s a roof over your heads.” She then added, blushing slightly, “My father’s old bed is big enough for two people.”
“You’re too kind, Gwen,” Morgana replied. “But I can’t do that, I hate to burden you.”
“It’s no burden,” her maid assured her. “I’d much rather see you both stay here than be forced to live in a tent in the woods. You’ll be safe here, and you can have your privacy. Merlin and I can bring you whatever you need.” Gwen cast a sweet smile at Merlin.
Morgana and Arthur exchanged a look, then she nodded. “I guess this will be our new home, then. Thank you, Gwen.”
“I guess I should go unload the cart,” Merlin said, looking noticeably fatigued.
“It’s been a long week for all of us,” Morgana replied sympathetically. “We should unpack our things, and then get some rest.”
~ * ~ *
It was early in the morning five days after their return, and Arthur and Morgana were lying on the pallet bed in Gwen’s cottage, limbs entangled as they lazed about before rising. The bed was not as uncomfortable as Arthur had expected, and although he certainly missed his down blankets and multiple plump pillows, being curled up with Morgana had its own benefits.
There had been no word from Uther, and thus no news on the status of their marriage. Arthur felt confident that it couldn’t be undone, except perhaps with sorcery, and even his father wouldn’t resort to that. Still, he was nervous, and every day without word made him more anxious. He was ready to begin living their new life - together - and was growing impatient. This was a life on hold, here in this dark little house.
Arthur’ stomach growled. They had been eating only whatever food Gwen could smuggle from the palace kitchen. “I’ve got to tell Merlin to bring me something substantial,” he complained. “I can’t survive on mere bread and ale for much longer.”
“You’re spoiled, do you know that?” Morgana teased.
“Yes. But you love me anyway, so why should I change?”
She laughed and shook her head. “You’re spoiled and impossible.” Her smile faded, however, and a look of melancholy crossed her face.
“What’s wrong, Love?”
“I fear you’ve sacrificed your crown for me,” she murmured, her fingertips tracing patterns on his bare chest.
“I’d sacrifice anything for you. But you know Father, he’ll get over it soon enough. He rages like a storm, then the skies clear up and the sun will shine again.” He sighed. “I spoke to him in a way I’ve never spoken to him before. Now I wonder if perhaps I was too harsh.”
“I’m proud of you,” she said, and his heart filled. She went on, “Believe me, I know from experience that sometimes the only way to deal with your father is to be harsh. I know you’ll never be a king like that.”
He kissed her cheek as a thanks for her faith in him.
“Tell me, Arthur, what are your dreams for this kingdom?”
He thought for a moment, stroking his wife’s hair. “I want people to be content and secure. Not just royalty, but everyone. I want them to feel as though their king is a true ally and friend. I’m excited for the future. I’m excited for you to be Camelot’s beloved queen.”
“Let’s hope it happens.”
“It will.” He promised, then took notice of the sun growing higher in the sky. Through the walls they could hear the crowds of people moving about in the village. “But for now, my queen, we should probably get up and get moving.”
“Why, what exciting plans do you have?” she smirked.
“Merlin and I are going to see Gaius today. Perhaps we can get him to talk some sense into my father.”
“Yes, I suppose he knows Uther better than any of us. But how on earth are you going to get inside the castle?”
“We’ll figure out a way,” Arthur said, sitting up to swing his legs off the bed. When he did so, a yelp of surprise filled the room, and Delia emerged from under the covers with a hurt look on her face.
“Poor thing, you’ve startled her,” Morgana said, taking the dog up in her arms.
“What on earth is she doing in our bed? We’ll have to work out sleeping arrangements for your dog. Her own bed is perfectly adequate.”
“She’s in an unfamiliar place, and being here with us makes her more comfortable.”
Morgana’s clenched jaw told him that this would be yet another argument he lost. He made a pained face as he slid on his breeches. “I’d have never gotten you that puppy if I’d known she would usurp me in your affections.”
She quipped, “I suppose it’s a good thing you can’t see the future, then.”
--
Merlin arrived later, with a spare set of servant’s clothing slung over his arm. “Gaius is in his chambers working on some formulas. Now would be the ideal time to talk to him.”
“What is that for?” Arthur asked, fearing that he already knew the answer to the question.
“I have the perfect disguise,” Merlin explained. “It’s the only way you can get into the castle without notice. I’ve brought you some of my extra clothes.”
“You want me to dress as a servant?!”
“It’s better than what you’ll be wearing if they catch you and toss you in the dungeon.”
Arthur moaned and snatched the clothing from Merlin’s arms. Morgana had gone on a walk with Gwen to pick wildflowers, and as he stepped behind the screen, he felt relieved that she would not be there to witness this indignity.
He ignored Merlin’s muffled guffaw as he emerged several minutes later. The shirt was so tight, Arthur feared the buttons might pop if he breathed too hard. The pants fit slightly better but were rather short. He traded his own good boots for a pair of shoddy flat-soled shoes. “I’m not wearing that thing,” he said of the neckerchief Merlin was waving in his face.
“Well, you’ll have to cover your pretty little head up with this, then,” Merlin said, plopping a sagging hat on top of his head. He studied his master with a look of great amusement. “Much more becoming than a crown, anyway.” He beamed. “Oh, and I’ve filled a wheelbarrow with hog manure for you to wheel around, just so you can really get into the servant role.”
“You can bloody well forget that!”
~ * ~ * ~ *
Upon returning from their walk, Morgana asked Gwen to fetch her some hot water for a nice, relaxing bath. Her nerves were on edge, although the fresh air and sunshine had done her well. She hummed as she put some freshly-picked flowers in a vase. It brightened up the place, she thought. Gwen, meanwhile, filled the tub and added some lavender and chamomile, which filled the air with a calming aroma. She gave Morgana a set of towels and a bar of soap, then excused herself to go to the marketplace.
Settling into her bath, Morgana closed her eyes and listened to the water lapping against the side of the tub. A lone candle in the corner gave off a soft glow that made for the perfect amount of light in the tiny bathroom, which was really no more than a closet. The warmth from the water soothed her body and for the first time in many weeks, she felt perfectly relaxed and peaceful.
She had only been soaking for several minutes when the bathroom door swung open, and in walked Arthur… clad in only a towel.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she gasped, instinctively reaching to cover herself with her hands.
He did not answer, instead he simply dropped his towel.
“Arthur!” she cried, beginning to laugh. This was still so new - this nakedness - and she felt slightly embarrassed.
“What?” he smirked. “You don’t like what you see?”
“I like it plenty. But I thought you were going to see Gaius?”
“Gaius wasn’t there,” he said. “And I couldn’t wait to get out of those silly old rags Merlin made me wear. A hot bath might do me good, too. No need to make poor Gwen fill the tub up twice.” He stepped in the tub on either side of her knees, then lowered himself over her.
She shuddered at the intense feeling of his weight over her, wrapping her arms around his strong shoulders. “I came in here to get clean, you know,” she chastised playfully.
“Oh, but I like it so much better when you are dirty.” Arthur captured her lips in a deep, sweet kiss.
The addition of another body in the tub caused the water level to rise, and when their bodies began to move, it splashed over the edges. Morgana shrieked.
There was a knock at the door. “My Lady, are you all right in there?”
“Gwen’s back already,” she hissed in Arthur’s ear. He began to kiss her shoulders, and it took every ounce of control she had to call out in a normal voice: “I’m fine, Gwen. I just... slipped a little.”
“Oh. Well, you sounded rather strange. Anyway, I brought you some extra towels, may I bring them in?”
“No!” Morgana cried. “I mean, I already have two here, that should be plenty.” She gasped loudly when Arthur’s hand found a most sensitive location.
“Are you sure you are feeling all right? I don’t want you to faint.”
“I’m fine,” she promised, fighting a giggle as his teeth marked her earlobe.
“Get her out of here,” he whispered. “I need you right now or I might die.”
How could she get her maid out of the house for a little longer? Arthur kissed her hard, a promise of what was to come, and it took her a moment before she could pull away from his mouth. “You know, Gwen, I think we ran out of bread. Can you fetch us some loaves from the baker? I have some shillings in my coin purse. Can you get the ones that have that honey glaze over them? Arthur rather likes those.”
“Of course, my Lady, I’ll be back shortly,” Gwen replied, her footsteps moving away from the door.
“No hurry!” Morgana called, turning her attention back to her impatient husband.
“Thank God,” he muttered, positioning himself over her.
Then Morgana’s body was no longer her own - Arthur knew how to play her like a musical instrument. Normally she hated feeling helpless, but she gladly surrendered to his touches. Likewise, she had the same effect on him. It was give and take, torture and pleasure.
By the time they had sated their desires, most of the water had been splashed out of the tub.
“Poor Gwen,” Morgana said, still flushed from exertion. She leaned over the lip of the tub in an attempt to swab up the spilled water. She and Arthur dried each other’s bodies with towels, then made their way out of the room and to the bed. Once nestled under the covers, he was asleep in a matter of minutes.
She kissed his forehead, and he mumbled something in his sleep. The act itself had gotten more pleasurable each time, but she truly cherished the after-effects: Arthur, in a sleepy trance, would murmur how much he loved her, his face flushed and hair messy, before dozing off with a half-smile on his face. His pride disappeared, and he seemed almost boyishly innocent. Those intimate little moments were already so priceless to her. She watched him for a few minutes, admiring his muscular body but also thinking of the great king he would be, and should be.
She had to do something.
Sliding out of bed as silently as possible, she slipped into her gown and slippers, and made her way to the castle.
Final chapter + epilogue here: http://a-boleyn1230.livejournal.com/140967.html
**I know, this should have been posted yesterday. I currently have a case of the Shipper Blues (FU, Johnny Capps!) so that’s been affecting my writing. It will blow over, always does. Also, the original plan was for the last chapter to be 15, but now there may be an epilogue after 15. Apparently I am unable to make edits without dramatically increasing word count.
Thank you thank you and cookies for the comments, your loyal reading keeps me motivated!
Consider my icon an illustration for this chapter. ;)
Chapter 14
Morgana paced nervously in Gwen’s cottage as she waited for Arthur and Merlin to return from seeing the King.
“Relax, my Lady,” her maid begged. “Fretting won’t do any good. How about I fetch you some tea? It will make you feel calmer.”
Morgana shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” She rubbed her hands together briskly in agitation, talking more to herself than Gwen. “Everything will be fine. Besides, it doesn’t matter what Uther says. Arthur and I were legally married - social obligations be damned! He can have me flogged in the courtyard for all I care.”
“Uther loves you,” Gwen said. “Even if he is angry he’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Morgana murmured. “I fear for Arthur’s future, as the rightful King of Camelot.” Then she remembered Kian’s dream, seeing her as a happy queen. Could he be right? She had that hope to cling to.
As if on cue a light knock sounded on the door, and she rushed to open it, nearly forgetting it was Gwen’s house and not her own. Arthur and Merlin stood outside, and she could tell from the look on Arthur’s face that things hadn’t gone well. A knot of disappointment formed in her stomach as the men entered. “Well? How did he take it” she asked meekly.
“Not good. Father is positively livid. Maybe it would have been better if Merlin hadn’t gone in there like some bumbling idiot!” Arthur scowled.
“I did exactly what you told me to do!” Merlin protested.
“Don’t blame him for your father’s attitude,” Morgana said, lightly caressing Arthur’s arm, her touch calming him instantly.
He sighed. “You’re right, I know it. I’m not sure he would have welcomed the news no matter who the messenger.” He begrudgingly cast Merlin a vague look that might possibly be construed as an apology.
“Maybe I should go talk to Uther,” she suggested. “I’m probably the one he is more upset with. If I can explain to him that I did everything I was supposed to do, that he hadn’t given me any orders of what to do if Tormod died...”.
“No, whatever you do, don’t do that. He wants us both out of his sight,” Arthur confessed. “He took the marriage document and is going to have Geoffrey of Monmouth look into an annulment.”
“That’s ridiculous! The marriage was legal,” Morgana spat angrily. “He couldn’t possibly find fault with the document any more than he could find fault with his own claim to the throne.” It doesn’t matter what a piece of paper said, she reminded herself. Body and soul, she was now married to Arthur.
“We’ll just have to bide our time for awhile,” he told her. “I still believe he’ll eventually come around. But for now we are both banished from the castle. The guards were given orders not to allow us inside. We’ll have to find another place to stay.”
“You can stay here,” Gwen piped up. “I’ll sleep in Morgana’s chambers - I’ll slip into the castle with some laundry and no one will even think twice about it. This little house is not what you are used to, granted, but it’s a roof over your heads.” She then added, blushing slightly, “My father’s old bed is big enough for two people.”
“You’re too kind, Gwen,” Morgana replied. “But I can’t do that, I hate to burden you.”
“It’s no burden,” her maid assured her. “I’d much rather see you both stay here than be forced to live in a tent in the woods. You’ll be safe here, and you can have your privacy. Merlin and I can bring you whatever you need.” Gwen cast a sweet smile at Merlin.
Morgana and Arthur exchanged a look, then she nodded. “I guess this will be our new home, then. Thank you, Gwen.”
“I guess I should go unload the cart,” Merlin said, looking noticeably fatigued.
“It’s been a long week for all of us,” Morgana replied sympathetically. “We should unpack our things, and then get some rest.”
~ * ~ *
It was early in the morning five days after their return, and Arthur and Morgana were lying on the pallet bed in Gwen’s cottage, limbs entangled as they lazed about before rising. The bed was not as uncomfortable as Arthur had expected, and although he certainly missed his down blankets and multiple plump pillows, being curled up with Morgana had its own benefits.
There had been no word from Uther, and thus no news on the status of their marriage. Arthur felt confident that it couldn’t be undone, except perhaps with sorcery, and even his father wouldn’t resort to that. Still, he was nervous, and every day without word made him more anxious. He was ready to begin living their new life - together - and was growing impatient. This was a life on hold, here in this dark little house.
Arthur’ stomach growled. They had been eating only whatever food Gwen could smuggle from the palace kitchen. “I’ve got to tell Merlin to bring me something substantial,” he complained. “I can’t survive on mere bread and ale for much longer.”
“You’re spoiled, do you know that?” Morgana teased.
“Yes. But you love me anyway, so why should I change?”
She laughed and shook her head. “You’re spoiled and impossible.” Her smile faded, however, and a look of melancholy crossed her face.
“What’s wrong, Love?”
“I fear you’ve sacrificed your crown for me,” she murmured, her fingertips tracing patterns on his bare chest.
“I’d sacrifice anything for you. But you know Father, he’ll get over it soon enough. He rages like a storm, then the skies clear up and the sun will shine again.” He sighed. “I spoke to him in a way I’ve never spoken to him before. Now I wonder if perhaps I was too harsh.”
“I’m proud of you,” she said, and his heart filled. She went on, “Believe me, I know from experience that sometimes the only way to deal with your father is to be harsh. I know you’ll never be a king like that.”
He kissed her cheek as a thanks for her faith in him.
“Tell me, Arthur, what are your dreams for this kingdom?”
He thought for a moment, stroking his wife’s hair. “I want people to be content and secure. Not just royalty, but everyone. I want them to feel as though their king is a true ally and friend. I’m excited for the future. I’m excited for you to be Camelot’s beloved queen.”
“Let’s hope it happens.”
“It will.” He promised, then took notice of the sun growing higher in the sky. Through the walls they could hear the crowds of people moving about in the village. “But for now, my queen, we should probably get up and get moving.”
“Why, what exciting plans do you have?” she smirked.
“Merlin and I are going to see Gaius today. Perhaps we can get him to talk some sense into my father.”
“Yes, I suppose he knows Uther better than any of us. But how on earth are you going to get inside the castle?”
“We’ll figure out a way,” Arthur said, sitting up to swing his legs off the bed. When he did so, a yelp of surprise filled the room, and Delia emerged from under the covers with a hurt look on her face.
“Poor thing, you’ve startled her,” Morgana said, taking the dog up in her arms.
“What on earth is she doing in our bed? We’ll have to work out sleeping arrangements for your dog. Her own bed is perfectly adequate.”
“She’s in an unfamiliar place, and being here with us makes her more comfortable.”
Morgana’s clenched jaw told him that this would be yet another argument he lost. He made a pained face as he slid on his breeches. “I’d have never gotten you that puppy if I’d known she would usurp me in your affections.”
She quipped, “I suppose it’s a good thing you can’t see the future, then.”
--
Merlin arrived later, with a spare set of servant’s clothing slung over his arm. “Gaius is in his chambers working on some formulas. Now would be the ideal time to talk to him.”
“What is that for?” Arthur asked, fearing that he already knew the answer to the question.
“I have the perfect disguise,” Merlin explained. “It’s the only way you can get into the castle without notice. I’ve brought you some of my extra clothes.”
“You want me to dress as a servant?!”
“It’s better than what you’ll be wearing if they catch you and toss you in the dungeon.”
Arthur moaned and snatched the clothing from Merlin’s arms. Morgana had gone on a walk with Gwen to pick wildflowers, and as he stepped behind the screen, he felt relieved that she would not be there to witness this indignity.
He ignored Merlin’s muffled guffaw as he emerged several minutes later. The shirt was so tight, Arthur feared the buttons might pop if he breathed too hard. The pants fit slightly better but were rather short. He traded his own good boots for a pair of shoddy flat-soled shoes. “I’m not wearing that thing,” he said of the neckerchief Merlin was waving in his face.
“Well, you’ll have to cover your pretty little head up with this, then,” Merlin said, plopping a sagging hat on top of his head. He studied his master with a look of great amusement. “Much more becoming than a crown, anyway.” He beamed. “Oh, and I’ve filled a wheelbarrow with hog manure for you to wheel around, just so you can really get into the servant role.”
“You can bloody well forget that!”
~ * ~ * ~ *
Upon returning from their walk, Morgana asked Gwen to fetch her some hot water for a nice, relaxing bath. Her nerves were on edge, although the fresh air and sunshine had done her well. She hummed as she put some freshly-picked flowers in a vase. It brightened up the place, she thought. Gwen, meanwhile, filled the tub and added some lavender and chamomile, which filled the air with a calming aroma. She gave Morgana a set of towels and a bar of soap, then excused herself to go to the marketplace.
Settling into her bath, Morgana closed her eyes and listened to the water lapping against the side of the tub. A lone candle in the corner gave off a soft glow that made for the perfect amount of light in the tiny bathroom, which was really no more than a closet. The warmth from the water soothed her body and for the first time in many weeks, she felt perfectly relaxed and peaceful.
She had only been soaking for several minutes when the bathroom door swung open, and in walked Arthur… clad in only a towel.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she gasped, instinctively reaching to cover herself with her hands.
He did not answer, instead he simply dropped his towel.
“Arthur!” she cried, beginning to laugh. This was still so new - this nakedness - and she felt slightly embarrassed.
“What?” he smirked. “You don’t like what you see?”
“I like it plenty. But I thought you were going to see Gaius?”
“Gaius wasn’t there,” he said. “And I couldn’t wait to get out of those silly old rags Merlin made me wear. A hot bath might do me good, too. No need to make poor Gwen fill the tub up twice.” He stepped in the tub on either side of her knees, then lowered himself over her.
She shuddered at the intense feeling of his weight over her, wrapping her arms around his strong shoulders. “I came in here to get clean, you know,” she chastised playfully.
“Oh, but I like it so much better when you are dirty.” Arthur captured her lips in a deep, sweet kiss.
The addition of another body in the tub caused the water level to rise, and when their bodies began to move, it splashed over the edges. Morgana shrieked.
There was a knock at the door. “My Lady, are you all right in there?”
“Gwen’s back already,” she hissed in Arthur’s ear. He began to kiss her shoulders, and it took every ounce of control she had to call out in a normal voice: “I’m fine, Gwen. I just... slipped a little.”
“Oh. Well, you sounded rather strange. Anyway, I brought you some extra towels, may I bring them in?”
“No!” Morgana cried. “I mean, I already have two here, that should be plenty.” She gasped loudly when Arthur’s hand found a most sensitive location.
“Are you sure you are feeling all right? I don’t want you to faint.”
“I’m fine,” she promised, fighting a giggle as his teeth marked her earlobe.
“Get her out of here,” he whispered. “I need you right now or I might die.”
How could she get her maid out of the house for a little longer? Arthur kissed her hard, a promise of what was to come, and it took her a moment before she could pull away from his mouth. “You know, Gwen, I think we ran out of bread. Can you fetch us some loaves from the baker? I have some shillings in my coin purse. Can you get the ones that have that honey glaze over them? Arthur rather likes those.”
“Of course, my Lady, I’ll be back shortly,” Gwen replied, her footsteps moving away from the door.
“No hurry!” Morgana called, turning her attention back to her impatient husband.
“Thank God,” he muttered, positioning himself over her.
Then Morgana’s body was no longer her own - Arthur knew how to play her like a musical instrument. Normally she hated feeling helpless, but she gladly surrendered to his touches. Likewise, she had the same effect on him. It was give and take, torture and pleasure.
By the time they had sated their desires, most of the water had been splashed out of the tub.
“Poor Gwen,” Morgana said, still flushed from exertion. She leaned over the lip of the tub in an attempt to swab up the spilled water. She and Arthur dried each other’s bodies with towels, then made their way out of the room and to the bed. Once nestled under the covers, he was asleep in a matter of minutes.
She kissed his forehead, and he mumbled something in his sleep. The act itself had gotten more pleasurable each time, but she truly cherished the after-effects: Arthur, in a sleepy trance, would murmur how much he loved her, his face flushed and hair messy, before dozing off with a half-smile on his face. His pride disappeared, and he seemed almost boyishly innocent. Those intimate little moments were already so priceless to her. She watched him for a few minutes, admiring his muscular body but also thinking of the great king he would be, and should be.
She had to do something.
Sliding out of bed as silently as possible, she slipped into her gown and slippers, and made her way to the castle.
Final chapter + epilogue here: http://a-boleyn1230.livejournal.com/140967.html