The Ward 17/21
Title: The Ward 17/21
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 16
With the life of a friend on the line, Gwen needs to get the prince to see reason.
Author’s notes: Beta-ed by the awesome Guardian Izz.
Gwen almost felt as if she had travelled back in time.
Kneeling in the chapel with the rest of the court felt like when she had prayed for Arthur's recovery many years earlier. Perhaps the greatest difference of all was the lack of Queen Igraine absorbed in prayers next to her.
The Latin words rolled effortlessly off her tongue as she prayed as hard as she could for the king's life.
What would become of them all if Uther died now?
Arthur would become king, but was he ready? The boy with the bloodless cheeks she had seen in the council chambers the day before certainly didn't look like a soon-to-be crowned king. She didn't doubt her intended's ability to lead his people, yet the king's sickness was so sudden and no one gave the Prince any time to prepare for full responsibility. No one could handle such power while in a shock such as this.
Gaius' first diagnosis regarding the king had been illness caused by stress and old age. Meanwhile, rumours among scared courtiers spread like fire. Some even feared that the king had somehow caught a disease of some sort leading to talk of evacuating the citadel. When it seemed that no one else around him was falling ill, the call to quarantine the castle was silenced. Yet the question still remained: what sickness did Uther contract?
Around her knelt the majority of the court, also pleading for the king's life. Every servant that could be spared from crucial work had joined their masters and mistresses in the chapel these past two days. Even though she had not seen it, Guinevere knew that the townsfolk along with the rest of the surrounding nobles were praying in the elaborate stone church in town. With the magnitude of their prayers and the unity of their purpose, she hoped fervently that God would grant their hope.
The thunderous sound of the doors thrust open against stonewalls threw her from her prayer filled reverie. The lady turned around along with the majority of those gathered, and stared as a troop of castle guards filled the chapel. The elderly bishop stepped down from the altar, surprise clear on his wrinkled face.
"Gentlemen... what is the meaning of this? This is a house of God. I remind you to show a bit more respect-"
"I beg your pardon, Your Excellency," interrupted Sir Ector, as he stepped out from the gathering of armed men. Gwen craned her neck to catch a better sight of them, spotting her father's former guard amongst the bunch. "But I have orders from His Highness Prince Arthur to conduct an arrest."
Gasps rippled across those kneeling in their pews as the knight stepped forward.
The young woman felt her brows furrow. Whatever the fugitive had done must have been grave enough for the arrest to be so urgent. Nothing short of murder would have caused the men to barge in.
Ector's eyes scanned the assembled crowd, coming to rest upon the pew that consisted of Guinevere's household.
"There: the one in green."
A startled gasp at her right caused Guinevere's heart to nearly stop.
No...
Before she knew what was happening two of the guards were forcing their way down her pew to the maid kneeling next to her.
Freya.
"Please!" the young woman nearly shrieked as the guard closest to her latched a hand around her thin wrist. "I didn't do anything!"
Manacles were strapped around the girl's hands as she was dragged toward the doors of the chapel.
Without thinking Gwen began to push past those standing in the way, desperate to get to her friend. She batted aside Batilda's hand trying to halt her movements, and instead broke out onto the aisle.
"Freya!"
Her voice seemed lost over the hundreds of whispers about the room, tainted with the far off cries of the servant girl.
Gwen bolted from the chapel, not caring if she would be judged for such behaviour as a future queen, and took off after the armed men.
A few of them turned in response to her callings, yet none halted except for Sir Ector.
He steadied her by grasping her elbows once she neared him, allowing her to compose herself somewhat.
"Where... where are you taking her?" she blurted out, feeling Batilda's skilful braid begin to slowly disentangle itself from her sprint.
"She is charged with the crime of poisoning His Majesty, my lady," he explained, his tone calm, as if he was trying to soothe a spooked mare. "If you would let me escort you back to your chambers-"
"No!"
Both the knight and future princess seemed surprised by her outburst. Gwen quickly schooled her features into that of determination as she drew herself to stand taller.
"I demand that you allow me into the council chamber, this instant."
Her very words sounded as if they had come from another's lips. The two stared each other down for a moment, weighing their options. Finally, Sir Ector seemed to crack. Perhaps he pitied his archery student, or perhaps he realized that the woman before him was to be queen one day soon and was not to be turned an enemy. Either way, he reluctantly stepped aside for her to pass.
Without another word Guinevere hurried past him, turning the corner and nearly skidding to a stop at the great wooden doors. A stern look at the two men guarding the door jolted them into action. Once they had pushed the heavy double doors open for her she stormed into the crowded room. The king's advisers, having been seated moments before, hastily jumped to their feet as she entered.
Two guards moved to hold her back as she descended upon Freya, kneeling upon the stone floor. A quick wave from the prince set the two men back to their posts.
"What is the meaning of this?" she questioned, taking a step closer to the shivering girl.
Silence filled the room, interrupted only by Freya's weeps.
Finally Arthur raised himself from his father's chair at the head of the table, leaning his hands flat against the wooden surface. "Gaius discovered the source of my father's ailment," he began, his face devoid of any emotion. He was fighting to keep from looking at her eyes, which formed a feeling of dread in her stomach. Why wasn't he looking at her? "He was poisoned." He raised his left hand, his mother's ring reflecting the morning sunlight, and pointed at the trembling girl. "She tried to kill him."
Gwen felt as if someone had punched her in her stomach. What?
"Freya...? She would do no such thing," she attempted to her prince to see reason. Laying a delicate hand upon the girl's shoulder she faced him. "You know as well as I that she would not be capable of such crime."
A furrow appeared in his brows. "Yes, I know as well as you, very little of what she is capable of. We have not known her for that long … a month's acquaintance is certainly enough to deceive us."
His tone was bordering patronizing as he hinted the truth to her. She felt her cheeks flame in shame for a moment. True, she did not know Freya for that long. But the month that she had spent in the maid's company was enough to tell her that the girl wouldn't lay a finger on another person, let alone the king.
"I believe that you are mistaken," she responded, drawing herself up to her full height. She knew these men were waiting for her to crack, to fall into tears. She couldn't let herself when the life of an innocent was at stake.
One of the elderly barons of the counsel piped up from among the rest, drawing Gwen's attention to him. "She was seen by the guards outside of His Majesties chambers, my lady," he explained. "She was the one to deliver the poisoned wine to him."
For the first time since Gwen had stepped into the room Freya spoke up. "But I did not do anything to it!" she insisted, drawing herself up on her knees. "I already told you... the blonde woman gave it to me!"
"Of course you will try to press the blame on someone else," another lord added, sneering down at the snivelling prisoner. "What with the executioners' blade resting at your neck."
Guinevere squeezed the girl's shoulder before taking hurried steps to Arthur. "She had just been returning from Gaius' on an errand that night... she told me that she had stopped to deliver something to Uther. Why would she tell me if she had an elaborate plan of poisoning him?"
Yet his expression remained blank as she searched his eyes for any sign of acknowledging the truths that she spoke. In a last ditch effort she took up one of his hands, so much larger than hers, into both of her own. "Please Arthur. You must see reason."
His gaze met hers for a brief moment before his eyes flickered over to the two guards at the door. "Escort the Lady Guinevere back to her chambers while the girl is taken to the dungeons," he ordered, his tone flat as he avoided looking at his future wife's stunned expression.
She attempted to jerk back her arm as one of the guards moved to grasp her, yet the other was there to restrain her. "You can't do this!" she insisted, nearly tripping over herself as she was none-too-gently led from the room.
"Arthur! Please!"
She didn't care that she was acting childish as she smacked against the man's chain covered arms all the way to the door. She didn't care that her behaviour was unbecoming for a future queen as she repeated her plea to the stern looking knight at the head of the table.
A human life was at stake.
Freya, in a moment of desperation, moved forward quickly to entreat the prince. One of the men that had been a part of her arrest pulled back on her, catching a hold of her sleeve with his fingertips. With a loud tear the cloth disconnected itself from where it had been sewn into her bodice.
Which then allowed the tattoo beneath the fabric to be revealed to the entire room.
Guinevere stopped fighting for a moment and, would she have had a clear head, might have used the chance to get away as the two guards beside her were just a shocked. Instead the three, along with the rest of the room's occupants, took in the druid pattern inked into the maid's shoulder.
Too late Freya moved to cover up the exposed layer of skin.
"You- you're a druid?" Arthur asked, finally moving around the table toward her.
Silence was her answer as she kept her eyes downcast. He shook his head in disgust before nodding to one of the guards.
"Get her out of my sight."
Seeing the girl's tears return snapped Gwen back into action.
Morgana had shown her that magic was not just used for evil and, inadvertently, Merlin did also. Freya was one of them, right? Not one of the magically inclined that Uther had waged war against?
The two men escorting her had an easier job than expected, as she was rather dazed at what had just been discovered.
As she was led into her chambers Batilda looked up in surprise from where she had been stationed before the fireplace. Evidently the woman had returned from the chapel after her mistress' dash from the room.
"Take your hands off of her!" she nearly shrieked, yet her outrage was not needed. The men already had let go of the young lady's arms and respectively bowed, despite the recent manhandling.
"I would suggest for you not to seek an audience with the prince just yet, my lady," the nearest one added, keeping his gaze downcast. "It will not be permitted."
Without another word the two left Arthur's future princess and her nurse in solitude.
Gingerly Gwen rubbed her arms as she stalked into her bedchamber.
The nurse followed quickly upon the girl's heels, reaching out a hand to comfort her.
"They … they think she poisoned the King!" she burst, collapsing into the matron's arms and allowing herself to cry for the life of her friend.
0o0o0
After she had managed to regain some form of composure, the seventeen-year-old lady lifted herself from her nurse's lap, where she had been resting her head. The older woman's hands were smoothing the girl's curls but paused as Gwen straightened.
"I know that she has magic, and the king decreed that such a thing is wrong but... " She shook her head. "I know she didn't hurt him. She doesn't have it in her. Surely you've seen it too? Out of everyone we know her best. You, me, Merlin..."
Without a warning Gwen sprung up from her bed and hurried out of the room.
"My lady?" the nurse inquired, startled, but the Prince's bride simply waved her hand to placate her nurse before hurrying from her chambers. Hopefully with Arthur busy in the council chamber, Merlin would be with Gaius.
The familiar route to the physician's chambers seemed to take aeons even though she did not encounter anyone to encumber her path. Once there, she almost didn't register Merlin emerging from Gaius', her head still spinning from all that's happened so far.
"Merlin!"
He turned quickly at the address, frowning slightly as she approached. His eyes, although dry, appeared to be rimmed red. "My lady," he greeted her, looking concerned as she nearly skidded to a stop in front of him.
"Please, you have to help me," she clutched onto his arm. Familiarity with servants be damned! "We have to help her."
Guinevere didn't need to explain who 'she' was; the boy's expression was enough to tell that he recognized whom she spoke of.
"But what can we do?" he asked, his voice going quiet as a maid, loaded down
with folded sheets, passed by them. Merlin pushed open the door to Gaius' chambers before beckoning her inside. She followed him without any objections and leaned against the wooden door, assuring that it was firmly shut and they were in the confidence of two. The room was empty save for them. Gaius' table, normally moderately organized, was strewn with empty bottles and half mixed potions.
"He thinks that he might have found an antidote," the young man explained, answering her silent question.
Amidst all the chaos surrounding Freya's impending execution Gwen had almost forgotten about the welfare of her guardian. Guilt ran over her like a cold spray of water. How could she have forgotten that Uther was dangling at the brink of death? "Do you think Gaius will be able to heal him?" she asked as she finally stepped away from the door.
Merlin took a moment in answering: "Gaius will find a way." He seemed so certain that Gwen almost felt relieved.
Silence fell between the two, until Gwen finally asked the question that had been nagging her mind. "Did you know that Freya is a druid?"
She thought that he might have tried to protest that he didn't know a thing, or perhaps that he would look at her in utter confusion. But instead he faced her head on, meeting her inquiring eyes as he nodded in a silent confirmation. "It was for her own good that I was the only one," he explained, toying with an empty beaker that Gaius had left upon his worktable. "If anyone were to find out..." He stopped there.
Suddenly he was pacing in front of the bench and then without warning he flung the glass against the far wall, shattering the vial into hundreds of pieces.
Guinevere flinched at the noise yet did not chastise his outburst of frustrated emotion. Were she not a lady she would have done something similar; as it was, her up bringing held against such spontaneous actions.
Only realizing what he did then he quickly turned to the woman. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to.." he began, searching for an excuse for his behaviour.
She shook her head, taking a step forward and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We will get her out of this. Out of everyone in the citadel the two of us know her best. I do not believe for a moment that she has committed this crime." She frowned, feeling the emotion tugging at her skin. "She spoke of a blonde woman. There are hundreds of servants that fit that vague description, how can we narrow them down?"
Merlin shook his head, yet his eyes remained determined. "We have to find a way. As soon as possible I'll speak to her, to find out more of this woman. And you, milady, must go speak to Arthur. If he will listen to anyone, it's you."
Anger and annoyance tinted her cheeks red as she shook her head. "He wouldn't listen in the council chambers; what's to say that he will listen to me now?"
She muttered something about 'thick-headed princes', which prodded a small smile from the once morose looking servant.
"Believe me, you underestimate yourself."
0o0o0
She had pondered what time would fit best to catch Arthur alone for a private conversation. The prince was in meetings with the council for the rest of the afternoon and she knew after their last confrontation, in front of the entire council no less, she would not be permitted into the room. There had been no chance to speak to him at supper as with Uther indisposed the two took their dinner separately.
She had received a smidgen of good news however: Uther seemed to be responding to Gaius' latest treatment.
Perhaps with his father on the mend Arthur would be less harsh with punishing Freya. It was a thought she dared not voice, as she realized how unconvincing it sounded.
Night time
That was her only opportunity.
After retiring that night, she lay awake in wait for Batilda to leave. The woman normally finished tidying up after Gwen went to bed before heading off to her own chamber to rest. She seemed to take longer than usual but Gwen just amounted this to her own impatience. Finally the chamber door closed and, after waiting a few more cautious minutes, the lady slipped from her bed. Reaching blindly in the darkness she managed to grab her dressing gown at the foot of her bed. Securing it around herself she slipped into a soft pair of flat slippers, before entering her reception room.
The tapers that had been lit around supper time were burnt down nearly to the end of their wicks. She silently thanked Batilda for not extinguishing them before leaving. With the rain pelting the castle walls outside there would be no hope of moonlight to light her way. Sneaking out like a thief in the night, she tiptoed out of her chambers barely breathing. Quietly she took the back stairs to Arthur's chambers, jumping at every clap of thunder expecting it to be a guard or a servant around the next corner.
With her heart beating an errant pattern in her chest she raised her knuckles to knock on his door. A moment later his blonde head stuck out, taking her in with a look of surprise.
"Guinevere... ?" he started, apparently not going anywhere with his greeting.
Awkwardly she shifted her footing.
"Do you mind if I come in?" she inquired and had the pleasure of seeing him nearly trip over himself in an attempt to open the door further. It was only then that the implications of her visit had sunk in. Here she was dressed in her night attire, merely covered by a dressing gown, demanding a private audience with her intended, also in his night clothing, in the middle of a stormy night.
This was exactly why she hadn't told Batilda. Or why she should have…
"I heard that Uncle is doing better," she employed the term of affection she used on occasion when speaking of the king. She watched as he moved to the table covered with state documents. Arthur leaned against it rather casually, seeming quite fine with the two of them being dressed the way that they were. And she might have believed him, were it not for the way he was looking at her, taking in every aspect of her from covered only by a layer of velvet and linen.
Clearing his throat, the prince forced himself to concentrate on what she had just said. "He regained consciousness. Truly, Gaius is something of a miracle worker."
She gave him a half-smile, probing one step closer. "Then you can hasten Freya's release?"
His eyes narrowed, his relaxed stance vanishing. "And why would I do that?" he inquired, standing up straight like a soldier.
She willed herself not to feel daunted by their height difference or the thunder that seemed to shake the castle walls. "Because she is innocent, as I had told you before."
Her tone was surprisingly even despite her desire to simply run back to her bed and hide. From the storm. From him.
"She spoke of another person who gave her the wine for your father. Why haven't you looked into that?"
He scoffed as if her question was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. "It is just an attempt to push the blame onto someone else," he explained, slowly as if he was talking to a child. "And besides that, she has magic. By my father's law she shouldn't even be breathing any more."
Her heartbeat increased at his patronizing tone yet she remained silent. Instead she took yet another step closer to him, unconsciously forming her hands into fists at her sides.
"You cannot count it out as such," she persisted even as he turned to move away from her. Her hand shot out to rest upon his forearm in an attempt to hold him in place.
He was sloppy and didn't even bother to tie together the front of his tunic, despite the presence of his bride. His skin, so warm beneath the loose white fabric, sent a shiver up her spine.
In a flash he broke free of her grasp and suddenly his own hand was holding firmly onto her arm. "And who are you to be giving me such advice, hmm?" he inquired, his blue eyes almost wary and circumspect as he took her in.
"You have to learn your place, Guinevere. I can't have you barging into council meetings just because one of your friends has been slighted. Honestly, I think you have spent too much time with Morgana-"
Without even registering it she lifted her free hand to slap him.
Years of training kept her hand from connecting with the flesh of his cheek as his free hand drew up stopping her offending limb from it's intended target. The jolt of such a block sent her stumbling forward, straight into him, and she braced herself against his chest. For a moment the two of them stood like that, the room quiet save for their heavy breathing and the thunder roaring outside. She's witnessed his severe aggression and determination earlier, his stubbornness, and this same night she was closer to him than ever. Guinevere could feel every inch of his body outlined against her own, and for the first time she was truly intimidated by him.
Without warning his lips descended upon hers.
To the surprise of both parties, she responded.
Perhaps it was her anger of Freya's situation, or her frustration with the scolding he had just given her. Maybe it was the weather outside, or even the foreign feeling of something akin to lust she had felt when pressed against him.
Whatever the reason, she kissed him as she had never kissed him before. Her hands gripped onto his tunic, and he held her closer. His lips pressed to hers, as if they were one, formed a warmth in her chest.
Another crack of thunder along with the need to breathe forced her to wake up and stumble back, away from him.
She saw his eyes lighten, after having turned almost black with emotion prior to their unexpected embrace.
She realized exactly what she had done.