The Ward 16/21
Title: The Ward 16/21
Author:tudor_rose445
Rating: Pg-13
Characters/Pairings:Arthur, Guinevere, Morgana, Uther, Igraine, Merlin, Gaius, Arthur/Guinevere, Igraine/Uther, Morgana/Merlin?.
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3
Disclaimer: I own nothing. BBC owns "Merlin".
Summary: AU. The life of Guinevere, daughter to Sir Thomas of Camelot, has seemingly changed over night. After the death of her father and brother she is sent to the court of King Uther to become his ward. There she grows amongst the two royal children, Prince Arthur and Princess Morgana. Her time with the Pendragons will have a large influence on her life, and help to shape her into the queen of legend.
Chapter 15
The calm before the storm.
Author’s notes: Beta-ed by the awesome Guardian Izz.
Arthur kicked open the door to his bedchamber, ignoring the sound of it smacking against the stonewall as he stormed through, frustration clear on his face.
He could lead an army of thousands, command hundreds of fierce knights, yet whenever he tried to simply interact with his future wife he felt as incompetent as a new squire.
Merlin looked up from where he had been turning down the prince's bed, a small smirk barely hidden on his face; his master, though mad, wasn't distracted enough to miss his servant's amusement.
"What's so funny, Merlin?" he asked, folding his arms as he observed the younger man.
Merlin shrugged moving onto his next task. Gathering up pieces of armor that Arthur had littered throughout his chamber during the course of the day, he could not refrain from pointing out his clever observations: "You just always get that look on your face whenever Guinevere is upset with you, is all," he stopped up to pick up a gauntlet.
Arthur remained silent as his eyes followed the valet's movements.
"I think that you are doing it all wrong, really."
The prince's expression looked something akin to flabbergasted. "And what would make you the expert on the fairer sex, Merlin?"
The boy straightened, heaving a breastplate. "I … know things."
The prince mistook the thinly veiled look of pain on the servant's face for the weight of the armor, and not the person he thought of in that moment.
Finally, Arthur collapsed into a chair beside the table centered in his sitting room, balancing his temples in his hands. "Fine. What would you do then?"
It pained him to ask someone like Merlin of all people, but if he wanted to be able to at least talk to Guinevere before their wedding he needed someone's advice. He couldn't possibly go to his father, especially after the man's latest speech on such intimate matters of children. He had no brothers, no uncles nearby. Perhaps he could speak to Sir Leon...
"Well, Guinevere does not seem like the type to fawn over someone like you," Merlin explained, plunking down the metal none too gently atop the table. He procured a cloth and began to polish the pieces.
"No offense," he quickly added as he saw Arthur's expression. "It is just that I think she might actually need wooing."
"Wooing?"
Merlin shrugged as the prince looked on in astonishment.
"Wooing!"
The servant jumped, not having expected Arthur's exuberance, and nearly dropped the chain mail in his arms.
Arthur was up on his feet in a flash. "I can woo. I can do this." He furrowed his eyebrows at his almost-friend. "Thank you."
Merlin looked back down at his work, a little abashed that the prince was actually thanking him. He'd become used to working without a 'thanks Merlin' or 'great job there!'. Honest gratitude made both of the young men uncomfortable.
"Err, you're welcome," he muttered, furiously rubbing at the metal as the prince set about preparing for bed.
0o0o0
"I will have to put in an order for new arrows, please remind me later this evening. I should like to have them before the next hunt."
Freya nodded silently as she walked a step or two behind her mistress, holding the lady's quiver in her arms.
The pair had just returned from Gwen's archery practice with Sir Ector. Although she preferred the sword during her first few years of lessons with Sir Leon, the bow had turned out to be her favorite weapon. Not only was it a far more accepted weapon for a woman to wield, but the bow could also be used during the court hunts. It took precision and patience unlike the brute strength that the sword often required; she preferred it as she felt it fit her personality better.
The pair stopped short as the prince stepped out from behind an alcove.
"Gwen," he greeted, standing up a bit straighter as he lifted himself off the pillar he had been leaning against.
The lady adjusted her bow in her small hands and greeted her betrothed with caution. The events of the previous night's dinner still fresh in her mind, unfortunately.
"I, uh, I would like it if you could join me for a ride. Perhaps afterward we could play a game of bowls? Or perhaps chess. Whatever you desire."
She contemplated the choice silently as she took in his hopeful expression. Perhaps, truly, he hadn't meant for Uther to embark on his embarrassing speech the night before. Maybe it really had been a slip of the tongue.
A small smile graced her lips.
"I would like that," she replied, pretending not to see the barely hidden look of glee in Arthur's eyes.
She was just about to hand her bow over to Freya to accompany him, when she suddenly paused. Gwen could practically hear her nurse's speech in her head: 'what do you think you are doing? Riding out unaccompanied with a man, not yet husband?'.
Even without being there Batilda's words of caution were swirling around in her head, protecting the young lady from making foolish mistakes.
She somewhat winced before raising her eyes to Arthur. "I will have to have a chaperone, of course," she reminded him.
Yet that did not deter the prince.
"Your maid could accompany us," he added, his attention falling to Freya. "I might as well bring Merlin along then, mayhap the sunlight will manage wake him up at last. He's been acting sullen all morning..."
Guinevere rolled her eyes as she accepted the prince's arm, laughing softly.
"Perhaps it has something to do with all the chores you assign him?" she suggested as the pair started off down the corridor, Freya not far behind.
Arthur choked back a laugh. "He enjoys hard work. Don't you, Merlin?"
The unsuspecting young man had just turned the corner, yet stopped quickly as he was addressed.
"Hmm?" he asked as he fell in beside Freya.
Arthur shook his head. "Just keep walking," was all he instructed, pleased to hear soft giggles of the two women in their small party.
0o0o0
"I am going to write to Morgana to see if she could possibly arrive earlier than the other guests. I would like for us to have some time with her alone. I'm sure your father will like that too."
Arthur nodded silently as he kept his palfrey in step beside Gwen's. The two servants lingered behind them, holding their distance yet keeping an eye on the pair. Yet by the muffled sounds of Freya giggling in response to Merlin's hushed chatter, the couple could easily guess that their 'chaperones' weren't attending them.
"I will have to give her quite a bit of notice, of course. That is, once your father sets a date."
"August fourth."
Gwen's gaze flickered over to the prince as she allowed her mind to process what he had just told her.
"Oh?"
She realized how foolish she must have sounded and quickly composed herself. "I had not known that he had chosen a day."
She tried to hide the niggling of anxiety that was threatening to make itself known through her features. Having a date, an actual day, for her wedding made the entire arrangement all the more real.
"He spoke to me about it before the joust yesterday; I had forgotten to tell you."
She kept back any retort at him forgetting such an important piece of information and instead mulled over what time she had left as an unmarried woman.
"He truly is happy over the very idea. Of us, I mean." Arthur shifted the reins in his hands idly, keeping his blue eyes set on his gloved hands. "I'm, er, sorry about his speech last night."
Silence fell between the two for a beat.
"He is just concerned," the prince continued, trying to smooth over the situation. He inwardly kicked himself. How were the two to go through the very act that Uther had brought up the night before if they couldn't even talk of it? Well, Arthur knew he wouldn't have a problem. His desire for his bride would keep them occupied for the entirety of their wedding night if he had the choice. Yet, he knew such a thing was not openly spoken of among the women of Gwen's status. And then there was her nurse... Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes at Batilda's righteousness. If that woman had her way Gwen would remain a maiden for the rest of her life. If she had the power no doubt she would see it fitting for Guinevere to join the cloth and become a nun. Heaven forbid!
Had he been given a wife that he had not known prior to their marriage he could have easily dismissed his wife's previous servants. But this was Guinevere, and he's known her and cherished her for years. He wouldn't be able to stand the look of betrayal on her beloved features if he sent her closest companion away.
Once they were married, however, Batilda would not be needed the way she was needed now. Arthur was grateful to her for taking care of them as children, and guarding Gwen's maidenhead with her life, but a married woman did not have a nurse; her husband was her protector and guide. It was a bit of wishful thinking on his part that Guinevere would dismiss the woman she looked to as a mother.
He suddenly realized that she was looking at him in the way one would when waiting for an answer.
"I'm sorry... What?"
Gwen bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. "I was asking if your father told you anything else. About the wedding, I mean."
Arthur shook his head. "He is leaving most of the planning to you," he replied, watching as she absentmindedly braided the bit of mane before her hands. "He was very impressed with the festivities that you have planned so far."
Her cheeks tinged pink for a moment at the compliment. "But I first have to plan my birthday dinner. Or have you forgotten that it is almost upon us?"
She quickly covered her earlier embarrassment with a teasing grin.
"June twentieth, how could I forget?" he recited the date with ease.
The pair began to wind their way back to the path that would lead them to the citadel. Behind them Freya and Merlin did the same, although the couple was too caught up in their own banter.
"Surely you have chosen a gift for me by now," she baited him, giving him a sidelong glance.
He laughed before ducking to avoid an errant tree branch. "To be without a gift for you would be worse than death, my lady," he said in his best courtier's tone, prompting the young woman to laugh. He broke the branch that had nearly left a bruise upon his brow.
"Spoken like a true nobleman," she played along, glancing over at him. As he was busy making sure that no branches were in their way, she was given a chance to observe the young man. He had certainly grown from the boy that had seemed so uninterested in her when she had first been introduced at court. How could his fierce masculinity have escaped her notice? She supposed that even while enduring his odd gazes, she had still seen him as simply 'that boy who was Morgana's brother'. But it was impossible to any longer, especially after he had kissed her.
Her attention drifted to his hair, where the blonde locks seemed to shine in the sunlight streaming through the trees. She wondered, for a moment, what it would feel like to touch his hair, to run her fingers through the strands. Would it feel warm like the glorious sun, illuminating the darkness on their wedding night?
She quickly collected herself once she realized that he was giving her a peculiar look. Flustered, she tightened her grip on the reigns.
"I'll race you back," she announced, not giving him a chance to answer before she squeezed her mare's sides.
It was the perfect distraction. Instead of thinking upon why she had taken this moment to really take in her betrothed, she would instead have to concentrate on winning this game to gloat for the rest of the evening.
Arthur had no choice but to follow, joining in one of their many childhood games.
0o0o0
The race had not provided the distraction that she had wished for. She had won - which entitled her to a round of teasing - yet she still couldn't stop thinking of how she had ogled him. Ogled would be the correct word, wouldn't it? It was normally used when someone stared at another in the way she had done.
As Batilda brushed out her hair that night she tried to organize her thoughts. She had simply taken notice of how Arthur had looked that day. That was all. Really, it was nothing. But the chaos in her thoughts would beg to differ.
She almost felt a bit of pride knowing that her intended was such a handsome man.
"Will that be all, mistress?"
She turned halfway in her seat as Freya paused before her.
"Could you retrieve my sleeping potion from Gaius, please?" she requested as Batilda finished plaiting her hair. The young lady stood from her stool before smoothing out the sleeves of her nightdress. "I believe that it will aid me falling asleep."
The medicament would lull her into a calm enough state for slumber. She wasn't overly fond of the drink, but it had been given to her now and then throughout the years when she had had trouble escaping the nightmares that her father and brother's deaths had brought.
She could feel Batilda's concerned gaze upon her back yet she did not acknowledge it. She didn't want to talk about how she had felt today, let alone to the woman that had raised her.
Freya nodded wordlessly and curtsied before leaving.
Gwen climbed into bed, patting Batilda's shoulder lightly to assure her that she was fine.
The situation was embarrassing enough without being asked questions about it.
0o0o0
Freya felt as if she was walking upon clouds and not the solid stone her shoes were currently treading upon.
She had, since the attack on her village, found another person like her.
Merlin.
He was the only one to know of her secrets, of her abilities.
And she knew his.
It was somewhat thrilling to find a companion in magic-forsaken Camelot. She knew it was dangerous, risky. Yet the thought of someone like her didn't make her feel like a stranger to this court any longer. Of course the Lady Guinevere was kind, as were most of the other servants she worked with. Yet they weren't the Druids, they weren't from magic and could not understand it.
Of course, she doubted they would have given her a passing glance had they known she was a Druid. Her people were still barred from entering the kingdom.
To her dismay Merlin was not yet in Gaius' chambers when she retrieved the sleeping potion. Gaius had told her with a knowing look in his elderly gaze at her rather conspicuous questioning that the boy was still attending Arthur.
Trying not to seem too downcast she thanked the physician before starting back up to her lady's chambers.
"Wait!"
Freya turned sharply as a harried looking servant barreled down the hall toward her. The woman's blonde curls were tied with a leather cord, although a few strands had escaped. Her clear features were obscured by smears of soot.
"Could you deliver this to the king, please? I still have to attend Lady Blake before she calls for my hide."
Freya took the goblet of ale in her free hand, smiling gently.
"You shan't have to worry; I'll see to it."
The older looking woman smiled in thanks before picking up her hem, then hurrying back the way she had come.
Freya switched her path to the king's chambers, not seeing the cold smile of the queen behind her.
0o0o0
"I will have to speak to the seamstress. I suppose August is a while away..."
With her wedding looming in the air, Guinevere knew she would have to start planning the event eventually. Batilda had prompted her about the date while preparing her for mass and Gwen had reluctantly told her. She could practically see the idea flying through the matron's mind at the very word of 'wedding'. Although Guinevere enjoyed being the First Lady of the citadel and preparing the events of the court, she would rather not have been involved with the preparations for her own wedding; she was stressed enough about marrying the handsome prince as it was.
A knock on the door to her receiving room prompted Freya to see who was calling. She entered Gwen's bedchamber, a grim look upon her features.
"The prince has requested your presence in the council chambers, my lady."
Gwen paused in smoothing her gown for a second as she processed what the maid told her.
What could Arthur possibly want with her at this hour? Couldn't it have waited until after mass? He would have seen her there and could have spoken to her even before the service had began.
"Were you told why?" she asked, a mask of indifference falling across her face. It was probably for something trivial, perhaps something about their wedding.
Freya shook her head.
"It seemed serious though. The man at the door... his cheeks were like ashen."
Gwen looked at the two women before taking a deep breath.
"I shall meet you both in the chapel. I shan't be long."
Without another word she left the confused looking pair of servants, her feet leading her to the king's council chambers. She was rarely present there. Really, what reason could she have? Matters of the state had never involved her before, nor any other woman other than sometimes the queen.
She nodded to the two guards at the door who stood back to allow her to enter.
The scene in the stately room threatened a shiver down her spine.
Arthur was seated at the head of the table, Gaius to his right, Geoffrey to his left. The highest ranked barons and knights filled the rest of the long table, each holding the same facial expression: barely concealed grief.
She raised her gaze to Arthur's only to see pain reflecting in them.
"The king is dying."