Removing from Fanfiction.net. Archiving here...
Merlin dreamed that it was morning and Arthur entered his room. The prince strode to the window and threw open the shutters.
"Are you going to sleep all day? Get up!"
In his dream Merlin sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"Hurry up, lazybones. It's time for your breakfast." Arthur used his boot to push Merlin off of his cot onto the stone floor.
"Ow.." said Merlin. He picked himself up and turned to find Arthur holding out Merlin's old blue shirt, and his pants slung over his arm. Merlin took the shirt and put it on, then continued donning the pants, socks and boots Arthur profrerred to him. Arthur tapped his foot impatiently until he was done.
"Turn around, idiot." Merlin obeyed and Arthur proceeded to tie his neckerchief round his neck in the usual fashion, then pointed toward the table in Gaius' common room. "Now go sit down."
Merlin sat down at the table in front of Gaius, who was already there. Moments later, Arthur produced two bowls of lumpy porridge with spoons for the physician and the servant.
"Well, eat!" said Arthur.
Merlin ate.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" asked Arthur,
"Like what?"
Arthur was incredulous. "Instructions, perhaps?"
"My instructions?"
"Yes."
This was the point where Merlin realized he was dreaming. I can tell him to do anything and he'll do it, he thought.
"Very well then, my instructions..."
Merlin tried to think about it. The trouble with dreaming is that the part of your brain that usually does the thinking is dormant. It was surprisingly difficult. Arthur's impatience was growing obvious, so Merlin said the first thing that popped into his head.
"Girls," he said. "There should be more girls at Camelot. Pretty ones." Then he remembered Lady Vivian, and decided to be more specific. "Pretty but nice. Can you arrange that?"
"How am I supposed to bring girls to Camelot? We've got plenty of girls here."
"You're only saying that because you've got Gwen."
"No I'm not,"
"Yes you are. Because you're almost always thinking of yourself. But really, this is actually in your best interest. Have you noticed how all of the knights in Camelot look at Gwen? The only one not in love with her in Elyan, and that's only because he's her brother. To be honest, I find myself thinking about Gwen too. I'm male. I can't help it."
Suddenly Arthur's sword was in his hand. "What did you say?"
Merlin was suddenly nervous. "You asked for my instructions and I gave them," he said. "More girls." Arthur was moving in a troubling way. "No need to get Angry Arthur. Why are you pulling your sword? Isn't it me in control of this dream?"
"Tell me more about these thoughts you have about Guinevere."
The sword was leveled right in front of Merlin's nose, making him feel a bit cross-eyed.
"She's a nice girl. That's all. Nothing more. Put that away, Arthur."
"That's not all, is it? How dare you think about her like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you just admitted. I going to teach you to show some respect,"
Arthur reached out and helped Merlin to his feet by seizing him by the scruff of the neckerchief.
"Ow, Arthur, let me go. She's just very pretty. Everyone knows that. No need to get angry. Arthur!"
Arthur was pushing Merlin against a stone wall and swinging his sword.
Merlin, terrified, reacted without thinking. Then he woke up with a start.
He rubbed his eyes. All was dark and quiet. It wasn't even time to get up yet. Merlin sighed gratefully and went back to sleep.
Five minutes later, Arthur Pendragon woke on the castle roof, under the pre-dawn sky, in nothing but his underwear.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Gwaine Necklace Challenge
I'm taking this down from Fanfiction.net and archiving it here...
Gwaine and the Necklace: A Writing Challenge!
Gwaine wears a chain, and on the chain is hung two items: a gold ring and a silver object. What is the significance of this necklace? Where did it come from? Why does Gwaine wear it? Surely it has a story behind it that is important to the character of Gwaine.
So here is a challenge! Write your own version of the story of Gwaine and the Necklace. Call your story "Gwaine and the Necklace: _" (you make up the last word or words of the title), and post it here on FanFiction. Post reviews for the stories you like. The story with the most reviews by the end of January 31, 2012 is the winner!
A Few More Rules:
We've had some awesome questions and suggestions that lead us to add a few more details for the contest:
There will be three categories of stories, and a winner will arise from each:
- Oneshot (Single-chapter)
- Midlength (2-10 Chapters)
- Long (11 or more chapters)
Multi-chapter stories must have at least 600 words per chapter.
Reviews must be "signed" in order to count. Sorry – we know that one is painful! But we need to keep it as fair as possible, and that will help.
I will be participating, but will not be considered elligible to win.
We appeal to your sense of integrity as you play! Write the best story you can and be true to that story in how you present it. Then trust the material to bring you votes. It is a far, far better thing to participate with integrity than to win without it! And we don't want to have to saddle everyone with too many annoying rules.
Feel free to call it a "pendant". (Aparently a chain round the neck is commonly called different things in different parts of the world. That is so cool to discover!) But please do stick with the title format using the word "necklace" so we all can find your story and give you reviews.
We so look forward to reading your stories!
-Mrs Bonner
A Few More Rules:
We've had some awesome questions and suggestions that lead us to add a few more details for the contest:
There will be three categories of stories, and a winner will arise from each:
Oneshot (Single-chapter)
Midlength (2-10 Chapters)
Long (11 or more chapters)
Multi-chapter stories must have at least 600 words per chapter.
Reviews must be "signed" in order to count. Sorry – we know that one is painful! But we need to keep it as fair as possible, and that will help.
I will be participating, but will not be considered elligible to win.
We appeal to your sense of integrity as you play! Write the best story you can and be true to that story in how you present it. Then trust the material to bring you votes. It is a far, far better thing to participate with integrity than to win without it! And we don't want to have to saddle everyone with too many annoying rules.
Feel free to call it a "pendant". (Aparently a chain round the neck is commonly called different things in different parts of the world. That is so cool to discover!) But please do stick with the title format using the word "necklace" so we all can find your story and give you reviews.
We so look forward to reading your stories!
-Mrs Bonner
Below is the Original Challenge:
Gwaine and the Necklace: A Writing Challenge!
Have you noticed that when Eoin Macken goes for a TV interview he wears Gwaine's necklace? And the people interviewing don't ever notice and never ask him about it!
Gwaine wears a chain, and on the chain is hung two items: a gold ring and a silver object. What is the significance of this necklace? Where did it come from? Why did the costume designer create this item, and why does Gwaine wear it? If Eoin Macken chooses to wear it for interviews, surely it has a story behind it that is important to the character of Gwaine.
So here is a challenge! Write your own version of the story of Gwaine and the Necklace. Call your story "Gwaine and the Necklace: _" (you make up the last word or words), and post it here on FanFiction. Post reviews for the stories you like. The story with the most reviews by the end of January 31, 2012 is the winner!
I can't wait to read what we all write... Cheers, and good luck!
-Mrs Bonner
Gwaine and the Necklace: A Writing Challenge!
Gwaine wears a chain, and on the chain is hung two items: a gold ring and a silver object. What is the significance of this necklace? Where did it come from? Why does Gwaine wear it? Surely it has a story behind it that is important to the character of Gwaine.
So here is a challenge! Write your own version of the story of Gwaine and the Necklace. Call your story "Gwaine and the Necklace: _" (you make up the last word or words of the title), and post it here on FanFiction. Post reviews for the stories you like. The story with the most reviews by the end of January 31, 2012 is the winner!
A Few More Rules:
We've had some awesome questions and suggestions that lead us to add a few more details for the contest:
There will be three categories of stories, and a winner will arise from each:
- Oneshot (Single-chapter)
- Midlength (2-10 Chapters)
- Long (11 or more chapters)
Multi-chapter stories must have at least 600 words per chapter.
Reviews must be "signed" in order to count. Sorry – we know that one is painful! But we need to keep it as fair as possible, and that will help.
I will be participating, but will not be considered elligible to win.
We appeal to your sense of integrity as you play! Write the best story you can and be true to that story in how you present it. Then trust the material to bring you votes. It is a far, far better thing to participate with integrity than to win without it! And we don't want to have to saddle everyone with too many annoying rules.
Feel free to call it a "pendant". (Aparently a chain round the neck is commonly called different things in different parts of the world. That is so cool to discover!) But please do stick with the title format using the word "necklace" so we all can find your story and give you reviews.
We so look forward to reading your stories!
-Mrs Bonner
A Few More Rules:
We've had some awesome questions and suggestions that lead us to add a few more details for the contest:
There will be three categories of stories, and a winner will arise from each:
Oneshot (Single-chapter)
Midlength (2-10 Chapters)
Long (11 or more chapters)
Multi-chapter stories must have at least 600 words per chapter.
Reviews must be "signed" in order to count. Sorry – we know that one is painful! But we need to keep it as fair as possible, and that will help.
I will be participating, but will not be considered elligible to win.
We appeal to your sense of integrity as you play! Write the best story you can and be true to that story in how you present it. Then trust the material to bring you votes. It is a far, far better thing to participate with integrity than to win without it! And we don't want to have to saddle everyone with too many annoying rules.
Feel free to call it a "pendant". (Aparently a chain round the neck is commonly called different things in different parts of the world. That is so cool to discover!) But please do stick with the title format using the word "necklace" so we all can find your story and give you reviews.
We so look forward to reading your stories!
-Mrs Bonner
Below is the Original Challenge:
Gwaine and the Necklace: A Writing Challenge!
Have you noticed that when Eoin Macken goes for a TV interview he wears Gwaine's necklace? And the people interviewing don't ever notice and never ask him about it!
Gwaine wears a chain, and on the chain is hung two items: a gold ring and a silver object. What is the significance of this necklace? Where did it come from? Why did the costume designer create this item, and why does Gwaine wear it? If Eoin Macken chooses to wear it for interviews, surely it has a story behind it that is important to the character of Gwaine.
So here is a challenge! Write your own version of the story of Gwaine and the Necklace. Call your story "Gwaine and the Necklace: _" (you make up the last word or words), and post it here on FanFiction. Post reviews for the stories you like. The story with the most reviews by the end of January 31, 2012 is the winner!
I can't wait to read what we all write... Cheers, and good luck!
-Mrs Bonner
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
From Afar -- the Letters of Lancelot and Guinevere
Sweet Gwen,
I write this letter from the Inn at South Bend. I see from my window a blacksmith shop, and it reminds me of carefree days long ago spent with you.
I left you that night in the forest without saying goodbye, and the thought that my actions might have injured you has haunted me. I do not deserve your forgiveness, yet I feel compelled to ask for it. I do not doubt your gentle heart will readily grant absolution. While it is unlikely that I will have the honor of seeing you again, will you please grant me pardon for my grave discourtesy?
I asked Merlin to give you a message. I have no doubt that he delivered it, but I will try, at least, to make some small restitution by explaining more fully what was meant.
Some things cannot be. In one night both of our lives were bought for us by a better man than me. I cannot hope to match him in honor, nor can I begin to provide for you all that you deserve, and I know he can. I want that for you, and I believe I saw in his eyes the one thing I wish for you above all.
You have changed me forever. Please know this, for now it means everything. I cringe to know the waste you saw me making of my life. Your eyes peered up at me from a dungeon cell, yet I saw reflected in them the prison I had made for myself. My poor attempt to aid you was nothing to the rescue you provided me with your words and your gentle touch. Sweet lady, how can I thank you?
I asked you once to live for me, but now I charge myself to live only for you. Our lives will be spent apart. You will not know my deeds, but I solemnly swear that all of them will honor you. My strength will be dedicated to helping the weak. My memory of you will bring hope to those who would otherwise despair. Wherever I can sow seeds of justice or mercy or love, I will do so in your sweet name.
Dearest lady, adieu.
Lancelot
Dear Lancelot,
I received your letter a few weeks ago, and I want to thank you for it. It made me smile. I was surprised to hear you had gone to South Bend. My brother, Elyan, is often in that town. Have you chanced to meet him?
It is evening, and it is growing late. I had been expecting a visit from a friend, but alas, my friend did not appear, and I am left feeling quite lonely. I hope you will forgive me for consoling myself by writing to you.
Thank you for explaining why you left. I was sad, but I understand why you felt it had to be. I only wish things could have been different.
I am finding that, as you said, some things cannot be. Perhaps many things cannot be. Why must people so often let each other down and break each other's hearts? People for whom we care forget us or leave us or die or are killed or make dreadful choices. Sometimes, and perhaps especially tonight, I wonder how we are to bear it.
I felt glad when I got your letter, and I felt glad tonight as I read it again. I am thankful to know that you are somewhere in this world, and that you are filled with good intentions. I am glad to think that there are people who will know you, even if I can't be one of them. I like to imagine you drying old women's tears and making children laugh. Is that a bit ridiculous? When I face injustice and faithlessness, I find that thoughts of you bolster my hope.
Please forgive me for being so melancholy. I'm sure ere long it will pass. Thank you again for your dear letter. I am honored by your words, and am grateful for the short time we have shared.
I will not forget you.
Gwen
Dearest Gwen,
I received your letter just before I departed South Bend for Estlyn. I have accepted work there, helping the mayor of the town provide better defense for his people. The pay isn't much, but it is a chance to do some good - something that will matter. I hope this news will please you.
My angel, it breaks my heart to think you have been sad. You asked me why people bring such hurt to each other. I wish I had an answer that would comfort you. I think sometimes it cannot be helped. We blunder through our days with good intentions, but we are capable of great folly. Humility and selflessness seem our only salvation, but I see that my own tendency is to forsake them both. Why is it that as soon as we recognize the first trace of our own humility, it is already lost?
My heart is still yours, although I assure you my devotion is without expectation. You are the North Star, and I thank heaven for you.
Please Gwen, tell me honestly, does it trouble you when I confess that all my days I will love you from afar? Perhaps I should not speak of these things. You can silence me with a word. It is your wisdom and strength that must guide us.
I am your devoted servant.
Lancelot
Dear Lancelot,
I received your letter some time ago, but I have only just found opportunity to respond properly. I'm sure you have heard something of the enchantment which took Lady Morgana from us, as well as the dragon which besieged Camelot. Please be assured that I am well enough after all of it, and better off than many. Everyone here has borne such heartache lately, it is difficult to describe.
I want to thank you for the words you wrote. I am honored by your devotion, although I do not feel I am worthy of it.
You asked if I am troubled by your love. My answer is no – how can I be troubled? The words you wrote made me feel wonderful. Thank you.
My concern, though, is for you. You placed me in Arthur's hands, and I do care for him. We have no understanding – how could we? But as you love me unselfishly, I try to be unselfish toward him. I know I can at least be a help to him. I know well that love from afar can lift the heart. This I learned from you.
I ask myself, what harm there can be in your love? I can think of none, except that I do not want you to carry a burden, or to be always alone. I hope that when love finds you, you will open your heart to it.
And now, dearest friend, I hope that my words have not troubled you.
Gwen
Dearest Gwen,
Thank you for your letter.
The news from Camelot has disturbed me to my soul. King Uther condemned but then later pardoned you? I have been told that you are well now, and I trust it is so. Still, the king is a dangerous man. If you feel unsafe now or at any time in the future, send me word and I will come for you instantly.
I am well, and am moving on to North Glen by next week. The fortification work we started in Estlyn has been taken up by other local leaders. Families in these towns are safer than ever before. I know you will be pleased when I tell you honestly that I have wiped away a number of tears and have even made a child or two laugh.
I am honored to be called your friend.
Lancelot
Dear Lancelot,
I hope this letter finds you swiftly. We desperately need your help. Morgause and Morgana have seized power and Arthur has had to flee for his life. I appeal to you to come with all haste to his aid. Have care, for Morgause' army is enchanted and none can be slain. Please let no harm come to you, my faithful friend.
I know you will do all you can.
Gwen
My Sweet, Beautiful Gwen,
All is well. Your smile has returned, and I see it almost every day, like the sun, as I pass by you.
I have almost all I ever wished: knighthood, and an end to my banishment from Camelot. And from you. I have all that I ever dreamed – almost.
I have never known such torment. If only I were stronger. If my love were more pure. If.
He is the best man I know. He is all I could wish for you.
I have loved you so long from afar. It has become effortless, like breathing. I do not know how to stop. I do not want to stop loving you. I want this one love to be forever, so that in my life there can exist an eternal love.
Surely, I will burn this letter, as I did the last, and the one before. These are words that must not be said. But I burn them.
Surely, it will all get better in time.
Lancelot
I write this letter from the Inn at South Bend. I see from my window a blacksmith shop, and it reminds me of carefree days long ago spent with you.
I left you that night in the forest without saying goodbye, and the thought that my actions might have injured you has haunted me. I do not deserve your forgiveness, yet I feel compelled to ask for it. I do not doubt your gentle heart will readily grant absolution. While it is unlikely that I will have the honor of seeing you again, will you please grant me pardon for my grave discourtesy?
I asked Merlin to give you a message. I have no doubt that he delivered it, but I will try, at least, to make some small restitution by explaining more fully what was meant.
Some things cannot be. In one night both of our lives were bought for us by a better man than me. I cannot hope to match him in honor, nor can I begin to provide for you all that you deserve, and I know he can. I want that for you, and I believe I saw in his eyes the one thing I wish for you above all.
You have changed me forever. Please know this, for now it means everything. I cringe to know the waste you saw me making of my life. Your eyes peered up at me from a dungeon cell, yet I saw reflected in them the prison I had made for myself. My poor attempt to aid you was nothing to the rescue you provided me with your words and your gentle touch. Sweet lady, how can I thank you?
I asked you once to live for me, but now I charge myself to live only for you. Our lives will be spent apart. You will not know my deeds, but I solemnly swear that all of them will honor you. My strength will be dedicated to helping the weak. My memory of you will bring hope to those who would otherwise despair. Wherever I can sow seeds of justice or mercy or love, I will do so in your sweet name.
Dearest lady, adieu.
Lancelot
Dear Lancelot,
I received your letter a few weeks ago, and I want to thank you for it. It made me smile. I was surprised to hear you had gone to South Bend. My brother, Elyan, is often in that town. Have you chanced to meet him?
It is evening, and it is growing late. I had been expecting a visit from a friend, but alas, my friend did not appear, and I am left feeling quite lonely. I hope you will forgive me for consoling myself by writing to you.
Thank you for explaining why you left. I was sad, but I understand why you felt it had to be. I only wish things could have been different.
I am finding that, as you said, some things cannot be. Perhaps many things cannot be. Why must people so often let each other down and break each other's hearts? People for whom we care forget us or leave us or die or are killed or make dreadful choices. Sometimes, and perhaps especially tonight, I wonder how we are to bear it.
I felt glad when I got your letter, and I felt glad tonight as I read it again. I am thankful to know that you are somewhere in this world, and that you are filled with good intentions. I am glad to think that there are people who will know you, even if I can't be one of them. I like to imagine you drying old women's tears and making children laugh. Is that a bit ridiculous? When I face injustice and faithlessness, I find that thoughts of you bolster my hope.
Please forgive me for being so melancholy. I'm sure ere long it will pass. Thank you again for your dear letter. I am honored by your words, and am grateful for the short time we have shared.
I will not forget you.
Gwen
Dearest Gwen,
I received your letter just before I departed South Bend for Estlyn. I have accepted work there, helping the mayor of the town provide better defense for his people. The pay isn't much, but it is a chance to do some good - something that will matter. I hope this news will please you.
My angel, it breaks my heart to think you have been sad. You asked me why people bring such hurt to each other. I wish I had an answer that would comfort you. I think sometimes it cannot be helped. We blunder through our days with good intentions, but we are capable of great folly. Humility and selflessness seem our only salvation, but I see that my own tendency is to forsake them both. Why is it that as soon as we recognize the first trace of our own humility, it is already lost?
My heart is still yours, although I assure you my devotion is without expectation. You are the North Star, and I thank heaven for you.
Please Gwen, tell me honestly, does it trouble you when I confess that all my days I will love you from afar? Perhaps I should not speak of these things. You can silence me with a word. It is your wisdom and strength that must guide us.
I am your devoted servant.
Lancelot
Dear Lancelot,
I received your letter some time ago, but I have only just found opportunity to respond properly. I'm sure you have heard something of the enchantment which took Lady Morgana from us, as well as the dragon which besieged Camelot. Please be assured that I am well enough after all of it, and better off than many. Everyone here has borne such heartache lately, it is difficult to describe.
I want to thank you for the words you wrote. I am honored by your devotion, although I do not feel I am worthy of it.
You asked if I am troubled by your love. My answer is no – how can I be troubled? The words you wrote made me feel wonderful. Thank you.
My concern, though, is for you. You placed me in Arthur's hands, and I do care for him. We have no understanding – how could we? But as you love me unselfishly, I try to be unselfish toward him. I know I can at least be a help to him. I know well that love from afar can lift the heart. This I learned from you.
I ask myself, what harm there can be in your love? I can think of none, except that I do not want you to carry a burden, or to be always alone. I hope that when love finds you, you will open your heart to it.
And now, dearest friend, I hope that my words have not troubled you.
Gwen
Dearest Gwen,
Thank you for your letter.
The news from Camelot has disturbed me to my soul. King Uther condemned but then later pardoned you? I have been told that you are well now, and I trust it is so. Still, the king is a dangerous man. If you feel unsafe now or at any time in the future, send me word and I will come for you instantly.
I am well, and am moving on to North Glen by next week. The fortification work we started in Estlyn has been taken up by other local leaders. Families in these towns are safer than ever before. I know you will be pleased when I tell you honestly that I have wiped away a number of tears and have even made a child or two laugh.
I am honored to be called your friend.
Lancelot
Dear Lancelot,
I hope this letter finds you swiftly. We desperately need your help. Morgause and Morgana have seized power and Arthur has had to flee for his life. I appeal to you to come with all haste to his aid. Have care, for Morgause' army is enchanted and none can be slain. Please let no harm come to you, my faithful friend.
I know you will do all you can.
Gwen
My Sweet, Beautiful Gwen,
All is well. Your smile has returned, and I see it almost every day, like the sun, as I pass by you.
I have almost all I ever wished: knighthood, and an end to my banishment from Camelot. And from you. I have all that I ever dreamed – almost.
I have never known such torment. If only I were stronger. If my love were more pure. If.
He is the best man I know. He is all I could wish for you.
I have loved you so long from afar. It has become effortless, like breathing. I do not know how to stop. I do not want to stop loving you. I want this one love to be forever, so that in my life there can exist an eternal love.
Surely, I will burn this letter, as I did the last, and the one before. These are words that must not be said. But I burn them.
Surely, it will all get better in time.
Lancelot
The Marriage of Sir Gwaine (a faithful retelling of the classic medieval ballad)
CHAPTER 1
Gwaine followed Arthur into the king's rooms. "Sire, you're back! We've been worried sick. Where have you been?"
Arthur threw his pack onto a chair and flopped unceremoniously onto his bed. From behind a pillow his weary voice answered "Hunting."
"You went hunting alone? You're not supposed to be doing that, Sire."
"Believe me, I know," said Arthur.
"Merlin made me swear I'd look after you while he's gone. Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if something happens to you?"
Arthur only groaned in reply.
"Forgive me, Sire. I'll let you rest." Gwaine winced. The word "sire" was still difficult for him to say comfortably. He had lately been making a real effort to speak with due respect to the king, if only for the sake of the younger knights who seemed to watch his every move.
"No, Gwaine, please stay a few minutes. I think I should talk to you. Please sit down." Arthur got up and sat in his chair at the table. Gwaine sat down obediently.
"I just wanted to get out for a while, get some air. Gwen and the ladies have been completely wrapped up in preparations for the holiday feast. They kept asking my opinion about terribly important things like matching napkins to table linens and table linens to centerpieces."
Gwaine groaned.
"And to make things worse, any opinion I foolishly ventured was promptly disregarded. I was in serious danger of going mad. When the idea of hunting occurred to me, it was just too good to resist. I thought I'd slip out for a quiet afternoon in the woods and be back before anyone missed me."
"So what kept you away so long?"
"I got into a bit of trouble, I'm afraid. I had been tracking a deer and I followed it a little further than perhaps was wise. I found myself in a clearing. I had just decided it was time to turn back when an enormous baron wielding a huge ax stepped out of the trees and accosted me. I gave him my best, but he quite honestly beat me. He had me pinned on the ground and I could not move. Then he swung up that mighty ax and I thought that was the end for me."
Gwaine was appalled. Arthur continued.
"But the Baron stopped. He said if I could answer his riddle he'd spare me. What else could I do? I agreed to try. I must return to meet him in the woods on New Year's Day. If I answer correctly I'll go free. If not..."
Neither of the men considered any idea of the king simply refusing to return on the appointed day. Arthur had given his word, and Gwaine knew he would keep it.
"We must find the answer to this riddle," said Gwaine. We've almost two weeks. Surely we can find it by then."
Arthur groaned and rested his head on his folded arms on the table.
"What is the riddle, Sire?"
"It is (and I quote): 'Bring me word what thing it is that a woman most desires'."
It was Gwaine's turn to slump onto the table. "Oh no," he said.
CHAPTER 2
"Guinevere, I need to ask you a question."
"What is it, Arthur?"
"What thing do you desire most?"
"Whatever can you mean?"
"I mean, what thing do you want most of all?"
"Are you not feeling well?"
"I'm fine. I'd just like to know your answer."
"To what?"
"To the question."
"What question?"
"What do you desire most?"
"Oh."
"There must be something you can say."
"You've been working so hard. I insist that you to lie down. There, that's better."
"Please, Guinevere?"
"You don't have a fever. That's good."
"Can't you give me some kind of answer to the question?"
"I'm afraid I still don't understand."
"More than anything else in the world, what thing do you most desire?"
"I can't imagine what to say to that. What thing do you most desire?"
"You, my dear."
"Oh Arthur..."
Gwaine had gathered a dozen of the youngest knights for a special assignment. As they stood in the armory looking at him expectantly, Gwaine realized he was actually beginning to sweat. Best to get this over with, he thought.
"Men, you will be performing a special duty for the king. It is of utmost importance, and you will be sworn to secrecy about who has set you to this task. You will also be forbidden to reveal your identity as a knight of Camelot." At these words the young men looked genuinely excited. "You are to collect a large amount of intelligence from the people of Camelot in a very short period of time."
Gwaine handed a stack of parchment and a supply of charcoal pencils to each of the men.
"You will canvas the upper town, the lower town and most of the outlying villages. The map on the table will show each of you your individually appointed areas. You must each gather a minimum of three hundred responses, and on pain of death you must return by the end of the week."
The youthful energy in the room was almost palpable.
"I don't know how to tell you this, men. I guess I'll just come out with it. For reasons of his own, which are, I assure you, important..." Gwaine's words nearly failed him. "King Arthur wants you to ask the women of Camelot to tell you 'what thing they most desire'."
It only took two threats of insubordination and one reminder that time in the stocks did not help toward swift advancement in the ranks. Ultimately, all twelve of the knights promptly departed toward their assigned destinations. There were a number of unpleasant jobs that were commonly meted out to the youngest of Arthur's men. Gwaine fully recognized that this assignment had just sunk beneath them all.
"May I ask you a question, ma'am?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"What thing is it that you desire most?"
"How dare you! I'll flog you for that, you young, disrespectful..."
"Ow! Wait, I didn't mean... Ow!"
King Arthur and Sir Gwaine spent three days pouring over the survey results, searching for a trend, a common thread, a tangible answer to the riddle. The responses were surprising, amusing, frustrating and sometimes heartbreaking. They were as varied as the women who had given them. And there was absolutely no apparent trend.
"To be loved."
"A good husband."
"To be appreciated."
"A servant."
"A room of my own."
"Spending money."
"A new roof."
"No nagging husband."
"A faithful husband."
"A baby."
"To be left alone."
"A day off."
"Better health."
"Grandchildren."
"I really don't know."
"A better life for my children."
"A little peace and quiet."
"A pantry full of food."
"A good harvest."
"For my husband to come back."
"A stable for these animals."
"A gold necklace."
"A fine dress for feast days."
"I wish I knew."
"To feel young again."
"A mild winter."
"To get the last word once in a while."
On New Year's Eve the king and the knight compiled all of the pages and enclosed them in a sheaf.
"Arthur, I honestly fear the answer we need is not here."
"It must be, Gwaine. We have nearly 4000 of them. Surely one of these must be right."
"I do hope so, since we leave tomorrow at first light. But something tells me we haven't solved this riddle correctly. I feel it in my bones."
"Now you're sounding a bit like Merlin."
"Too bad he's not here."
"And what exactly does Merlin know about women?"
CHAPTER 3
On the morning of New Year's Day, Gwaine and the king departed for the meeting place.
As the two men rode across a moor, they found themselves approaching a lady sitting between an oak and a holly tree. She was clad entirely in scarlet. Her form was slender and maidenly, but as they drew nearer it became clear that the lady's face had been horribly disfigured. Her eyes were misaligned, her crooked nose was turned outward, and her mouth stood foully awry. Neither Arthur nor Gwaine had ever seen a more pitifully formed face. At the sight of her, the men averted their eyes and made to ride past without greeting, but the lady stood up and hailed them.
"My lords, a word if you please!"
Arthur and Gwaine reluctantly reigned in their horses, but neither of them were eager to speak.
"What sort of knight are you, that you will not speak to me? Do not be dismayed by my ugliness, King Arthur Pendragon. I have spoken to you courteously. Though...", she considered them both, "you have not replied at all."
Arthur dismounted, and Gwaine followed his example. "Forgive me, lady," the king said, and bowed low with great deference. "You deserve better than I have acted. I am sorry."
Gwaine bowed too. As he straightened, the lady surprised him by reaching out and for a moment, delicately fingering the pendant that he wore at his neck. Then she took two quick steps backward and abruptly turned away.
After a moment of apparent indecision, the lady took up a veil and pinned it into her hair so that it covered her face. Then she spoke. "It was my hope that you would ride by this way, my lord. I have it in my power to ease your pain. I know the answer to the riddle that worries you."
"Lady," said Arthur, "I would be very grateful to hear what you have to say."
"The Baron is my brother, and I know his riddle well. But... I must ask a price for the answer," said the lady hesitatingly. "A heavy price."
"I am listening," said the king.
"My price is," she inclined her head toward Gwaine, "that this knight who rides at your side must marry me."
"Marry Gwaine?" Arthur had to stifle a laugh. "I am sorry lady. I am afraid I haven't the right to bargain for another man's hand in marriage." The king could not suppress an innocent grin. "Much as the idea does intrigue me." The king had suddenly begun to enjoy this encounter. "Come, lady. Tell us your name."
"I am Dame Ragnelle."
At this name, Gwaine gave such a start that he nearly lost his balance, but Arthur did not notice.
"Could we perhaps discuss some other form of compensation for the answer to the riddle?" Arthur entreated her kindly.
"I fear I must ask this price and none other," said she.
"Sire," said Gwaine most unexpectedly. "Since it is my future that seems to be in question, might I have a word alone with the lady?"
Surprised but amused, Arthur nodded his head. "By all means."
Gwaine took the lady's hand and led her several paces away to stand beside the holly tree.
"I see that you do remember me after all, Gwaine." said the lady quietly.
"Yes, I do," he said. He was not so rude as to ask what had happened to her. It saddened him that she was so different from the pretty, red-haired child he had known over fifteen years earlier. It was clear to him, however, that this unfortunate woman was indeed the same person.
She spoke next. "I honestly didn't know you until I saw the crest that you wear. I recall the day your father gave it to you."
"I did not recognize you," said Gwaine. "I'm sorry." His apology referred to more than his forgetfulness.
"Where have you been, Gwaine? I always thought you would keep the promise that you made to your father, but you never came."
"Everything changed. My father died and everything he had was gone. I have no lands, no house, no money, no people. I had nothing respectable to offer you. I never imagined you'd want me to come back."
"You still have your name. And I have a claim to it. Do you deny this?"
"I can't. It is as you say."
"For the sake of your king, I ask you to be faithful to our parents' arrangement. We both agreed to it once."
Gwaine could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Can I not dissuade you?"
The lady stood motionless, looking at him through her veil.
"I will tell you honestly," he said. "I would be a terrible husband. I bring nothing to the table. I'm not terribly smart. I have few friends. I have no fortune. I cannot provide much at all for you. Living with me would not be pleasant for any lady. The knights tell me I actually stink." At the last he wanted to make her laugh, but she bowed her head.
"I know marriage is a solemn matter," said she, "and not something to trifle with. I know that I ask much of you. But still I must ask it. My house is a worthy one. It is my face alone that will bring shame to the union."
Gwaine suddenly felt pity for the girl.
"A face is a shallow thing to honor or despise. In the long run it's a person's deeds, not appearance nor name, that make the difference. When you look at it that way, I fear I am the one who should be ashamed." He tried to lighten the mood. "And somehow, in spite of everything, Arthur saw fit to curse me with knighthood. I didn't deserve it and I couldn't get out of it." He paused and looked at her. "Destiny seems intent on changing me."
She waited, not speaking.
"Are you sure this is what you want, lady?"
"I am."
It took a long moment, but at last the knight said "Alright then." He led the woman back to stand before Arthur. "My lord, I now give my solemn word that I will marry this lady upon our return to Camelot." He took off his necklace and removed a gold ring from it's place by the pendant.
King Arthur vehemently protested. "Gwaine, I cannot ask this of you. It isn't right!"
Gwaine laughed as he placed his pendant again round his neck. "Why not? Better men than me have laid down their lives for Camelot. You have to admit this is a better deal." He knelt formally. "This ring was my mother's. It is dear to me." He placed it on the lady's finger. "Dame Ragnelle, I now pledge to you my troth."
With surprising emotion the lady whispered. "Thank you, Sir Gwaine." Then, after a moment, she stepped forward to face the king. "Sire, you need only two words to correctly answer my brother's riddle. They are these: HER WILL."
Two hours later the king, Sir Gwaine and the lady arrived at the appointed clearing. The Baron was there, ax in hand, silent and expectant. The party dismounted and approached him.
"Good morning, brother," said the lady.
"Do not hail me so brightly, sister. For your sake I hope you have not been making mischief for me, but I'll wager that you have. You'll regret it."
"Your business is with me, not the lady," said the King. "I have polled my kingdom for you." He held up the sheaf of answers. "I believe I have what you require."
The Baron laughed menacingly and knocked the file from Arthur's hand, sending pages scattering everywhere. "This is no answer. You are mine for the killing!"
"I will solve your riddle," spoke the King firmly. He glanced at Gwaine as if to apologize for the price that had been paid, but stood boldly before the Baron. "You asked what thing it is that a woman most desires. I now answer that it is: 'her will'."
At these words the Baron flew into a rage. "An early vengeance be upon you!" He turned toward his sister. "You misshapen whore! For your interference I will fry you!" At this, his ax blazed red hot and he ran full long at the veiled girl.
The lady screamed and cowered, but Gwaine and the king moved immediately to her aid and a terrible fight ensued. At last Gwaine and Arthur began to best the mighty Baron, but suddenly the girl cried out in anguish. "Don't kill him! Please do not kill him! He is under an enchantment. Destroy the ax and all will be well!"
Upon hearing this, Arthur pinned the Baron's arm to the ground while Gwaine took a mighty swing at the blade of the ax. In an explosion of red flame it shattered, then all was quiet. The lady ran and threw herself down upon her brother's neck.
"Sister?"
"I am here. Are you all right? Please tell me you are all right!"
"Forgive me, sister."
"There is nothing to forgive." The lady lovingly helped the Baron to sit up.
"I must thank you," said the Baron to the other men. "I was doomed to that foul temperament by an enchantment. I could not help myself."
Arthur and Gwaine nodded courteously.
The lady talked with her brother for a long while, as if to reassure herself that he was indeed well. At last she urged him to return to their mother and bring news. "Tell her that I am well. Tell her that I have gone to Camelot." This the Baron promised to do, and they bade each other farewell.
The danger was over, and King Arthur was transparent in his relief as he prepared for the ride home.
The lady waited quietly and watched Gwaine from behind her veil. At length he approached her and held out his hand. "Shall we go?" he asked.
"You mean to keep your promise, then?"
"Of course I do," he said, leading her to his horse. Then he spoke softly, so that only she could hear. "But I have tried to warn you that I'm no catch. I'm sure you can foresee that our sudden marriage will likely come as a shock to many of my aquaintances. Are you quite certain?"
"This must be," she said almost mysteriously, and made no further reply. So he simply helped her astride.
"Let's get home, then," said Arthur, and with that they began the ride toward Camelot.
CHAPTER 4
It was mid-day when the trio arrived at Camelot, and New Year festivities were in full swing. The knights and ladies of the court were enjoying a traditional light lunch, plentiful ale, and the ample talents of a gifted bard. The king, Sir Gwaine and the lady joined the company and were seated among the party-goers. When the musician stopped for a break, Arthur stood and addressed the assembly.
"My friends," said he, "I have an announcement which will come to many as nothing short of a miracle. Tonight, after the New Year's Banquet is served, Sir Gwaine is taking a wife."
There was an uproar of merriment at these words, and a general shouting ensued from the knights. "Who's the unlucky bride?" they wanted to know. "Show us the bride!"
Arthur took the lady's hand and led her gently to the dais. "I would introduce to you Dame Ragnelle." There was a cheer, but then silence reigned as the lady curtsied but remained veiled.
The lady stood looking out at the audience for an uncomfortable moment, and then begged permission to speak. "Lords and ladies," she said in a strong voice, "I am compelled to reveal to you my face. You will see it now, and none will be left in doubt about my nature. Forgive me."
The lady lifted her veil, and there was an audible gasp from the assembly. Many of the ladies turned away in horror.
King Arthur stepped forward and took the lady's arm. "Dame Ragnelle has rendered service to our royal person. She will be most welcome among us." He said this last with a hint of decree in his voice. Then he kissed her hand with great respect and returned her to Gwaine's side.
That evening at the banquet the intoxicants flowed freely. Gwaine, who had long since learned not to overindulge in good company, abstained. The knights, however, drank loudly, and the subject of nearly all discussion was Gwaine's impending marriage. Guinevere, who sat beside the bride, winced at snippets of overheard conversation and endeavored to keep the lady's attention from it.
One fatal conversation, however, was impossible to drown out. Sir Kay, a hotheaded knight who was barely past 20 years old, was heard saying to a crowd of young idiots: "Bed her? Never! He won't so much as kiss her. What man could kiss that?"
A moment later Gwaine tapped the lad on the shoulder, and the room fell silent. "Kay," said Gwaine softly, "what are you saying about my wife?"
Kay was a bit too mirthfully drunk for his own good. "I was saying... that I have my doubts about anyone being man enough for your fine lady."
Gwaine took a firm hold of the lad's chain mail shirt and lifted him unceremoniously off of his bench. "We could talk about your manners," said Gwaine, "but I think I'd rather just teach you some."
It was said later that Kay took the first swing, and that Gwaine took the second. Of a great many. Sir Kay was young, fast and formidably scrappy, but Gwaine was ...Gwaine.
Long before a clear victor could be determined, the fight was broken up by none other than King Arthur. He cast his glare on the entire group of knights. "I am quite honestly disgusted with you. For a little foul sight and misliking you've forgotten all courtesy and paid insult to a lady who has done no wrong to you, and great good to your king." He glanced across the room at the girl, who's head was bowed. "She deserves better."
The banquet resumed, but the feeling of festive merriment was slow to return. An hour later, as the evening's events drew to a subdued climax, the bride and groom were summoned to the dais for the wedding ceremony. Geoffrey performed the handfasting, simple vows were exchanged, and a beautiful blessing was pronounced upon the couple. Then Guinevere and the ladies took the bride away to prepare her for the wedding night.
Sir Percival clapped Gwaine on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Never thought I'd live to see the day," said the big man. "I'm happy for you, Gwaine. Marriage is one of life's greatest blessings." Gwaine punched his friend affectionately and took the cup of mild mead that was proffered. The meaning of Percy's gesture was not lost on him, as he suspected the man had once been a bridegroom. The two stood talking quietly for a little while, but it did not last. Suddenly Leon, Elyan, and a few others appeared, and Percival grew mischievously boisterous. "Let's do this right, men! We've a duty to perform!" Suddenly Gwaine was mobbed by the knights, who lifted him unceremoniously off the ground.
Shouting bawdy blessings the entire way, the knights of Camelot carried Gwaine to the bridal chamber.
CHAPTER 5
Gwaine was tossed into the bridal chamber, but had great difficulty getting the door shut behind him. The exuberant knights were proving quite a hindrance. He had managed to keep both his linen shirt and trousers on during the journey up the stairs, though it had been no small feat. "Get out, you bunch of morons! Let it be!" After bestowing a number of bruises upon his mates' various limbs, the door was finally shut, and Gwaine wasted no time in slamming the bolt into place.
The room was dimly lit by a few candles and the glow of the fireplace. She sat on the floor by the hearth, veiled in white and wearing a delicate sky-blue dressing gown. Gwaine took a few hesitating steps forward. "Lady, I am so sorry for the hurt my friends have done you."
"I am not hurt," she said.
Gwaine sat down beside her. Neither of them spoke. The fire was warm, and they both watched it dance. After a few minutes Gwaine put his arm around her waist so that her back rested against his chest. He waited until she seemed to relax, and then he spoke quietly into her lavender-scented hair. "I wish I could offer you a better life than this." He pulled the hair away from the back of her neck and kissed her there. She sat very still, so he kissed her again. And again.
"Gwaine," she whispered, "you are a man of honor." Then she turned, wrapped her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly, and began to cry.
This was not the reaction Gwaine had been working to achieve. He held this warm, soft, confusing woman in his arms and said the only thing he could think of, which was "Hey, don't cry." For some reason this made the girl laugh, and she laughed through her tears as she clung to him.
Again, this was not the reaction he had been seeking.
The girl let go of his neck and leaned back to peer up at him through her veil. "Gwaine, you have just broken half of a terrible enchantment. Oh, I thank God for you!" She hugged him again and then stood and walked a few steps away. He watched as she unpinned the veil from her hair and slowly, shyly pulled it away from her face.
Gwaine was thunderstruck. The visage that emerged was perfection. It was without doubt the same face, but now everything that had been wrong about it was right. Her eyes sparkled with tears and her entire form radiated with beauty. "You have saved me," she said.
She ran back to him and threw herself into his arms, kissing his face, his neck, his chest. For a moment Gwaine tried to understand what had happened, but when the girl found his lips he was obliged to turn his thoughts to her alone. For the next several hours he lost himself in her joy.
"Gwaine?"
Gwaine slowly opened his eyes. The lady's cheek rested on his breast, and her red-gold hair cascaded across his chest. Heaven, he thought. This is heaven.
"Gwaine, it will be morning soon. I must speak with you before day comes." The lady sat up, pulled on her dressing gown, and walked to the east window. She opened it and stood looking at the horizon. Gwaine, already missing her closeness, pulled on his trousers and went to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
"The enchantment is half gone. But I must still endure the disfigurement half of the time, either by day or by night. A choice must be made before dawn." She turned and peered up at him with a terrible, serious look in her eyes. "Will you have me beautiful when you come home to me by night? Or will you have my better face at daytime to represent you to the world?" She turned away to face the horizon. "You must answer."
Gwaine looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "That's a quandary. For myself I know what I would choose. I'd have you to myself as you are now. But I know it would be a selfish thing."
She still did not look at him.
At last he put a hand gently under her chin and made her eyes meet his as he spoke. "It is you who must live your life. You make the choice. I'll support it. Whatever you decide," he hesitated, "...I'll love you."
At those words her eyes filled with tears and she buried herself in his embrace. "God bless you, Sir Gwaine," she whispered.
Just then, the first rays of golden sunlight shot through the window, making the lady's hair glow like fire. She went on clinging to him until the room was filled with sun.
"It's morning," said Gwaine at last, looking at his bride. "So you've made your decision then? Beauty by day?"
"No," she said, leaning against him.
"Will you have to change back soon?"
"No," she murmured.
Gwaine was a bit confused.
At last the lady looked up at him adoringly. "You've done it, Gwaine. You've ended the whole enchantment."
"I did?" Gwaine asked, certain he had missed something. "What did I do?"
"You gave me my will."
CHAPTER 6
Sir Kay, who was no longer able to distract himself, had resorted to pacing outside the council room. At last the door opened and the king emerged.
"What is it now, Kay?"
"Sire! It's nearly dark and Sir Gwaine and the lady have not opened their door even once since last night!"
Arthur eyed him. "Kay, please don't take this the wrong way. You're an idiot. What are you thinking? Do you suppose that the lady has murdered him?"
"Of course not, sir!"
"Then why not leave them in peace?"
Kay looked down at his feet. "I need to apologize to the lady, my lord. I'm going to go mad if I can't do it soon."
"Then go and knock on the door, for goodness sake! It might open. Heaven knows it's been long enough. Gwaine will want more than bridal cake for supper, I'll guarantee you that."
"Thank you, my lord!" Kay made a far-too-quick bow, then ran for the stairs.
The bridal chamber door opened just before Kay's fist could make contact, giving the youth a terrible start.
"Kay, what are you doing here? We were just coming out."
"Sir Gwaine, I just want to tell you I'm sorry. My behavior last night was deplorable."
"Who's there?" came the lady's voice.
Kay immediately dropped to his knees and abased himself, bowing his head. "Ma'am, I beg you to forgive my terrible words. I regret all of the hurt I have caused you. To make amends, I pledge to you my service. I promise to defend your honor until the day I die."
Gwaine suppressed a chuckle. "You never do things part-way, do you lad?" He winked at his wife. "What say you, lady?"
Kay remained on the floor, head bowed humbly.
"Sir Kay, I accept your service. I now require that you look upon my face."
Looking up, Kay let out a surprisingly girlish squeak and fell backwards.
Gwaine nearly died laughing. The lady, amused but concerned, helped a gawking Kay unsteadily to his feet.
"That was worth all that came before," said Gwaine. "Are you all right?"
"Y-y-yes," stammered Kay.
"You're far too concerned about appearances, lad. It's something you need to be letting go." Gwaine clapped him on the back. "Come. Kiss my bride, brother Kay, and all will be amended."
The young knight shakily obeyed.
Then Gwaine took his lady's hand. "Shall we go and cause a mild uproar at supper then, wife?"
"Yes, husband," she said, and smiled.
"Cozen Gwaine," sayes Sir Kay, / "Thy chance is fallen arright, / For thou hast gotten one of the fairest maids / I ever saw with my sight."
"It is my fortune," said Sir Gwaine; / "For my unckle Arthurs sake / I am glad as grasse would be of raine, / Great joy that I may take."
Sir Gwaine tooke the lady by the one arme, / Sir Kay tooke her by the tother, / They led her straight to King Arthur, / As they were brother and brother.
King Arthur welcomed them there all, / And soe did Lady Guinevere his queene, / With all the knights of the Round Table, / Most seemly to be seene.
King Arthur beheld that lady faire / That was soe faire and bright, / He thanked Christ in Trinity / For Sir Gwaine that gentle knight.
Soe did the knights, both more and lesse, / Rejoyced all that day / For the good chance that hapened was / To Sir Gwaine and his lady gay.
THE END
Gwaine followed Arthur into the king's rooms. "Sire, you're back! We've been worried sick. Where have you been?"
Arthur threw his pack onto a chair and flopped unceremoniously onto his bed. From behind a pillow his weary voice answered "Hunting."
"You went hunting alone? You're not supposed to be doing that, Sire."
"Believe me, I know," said Arthur.
"Merlin made me swear I'd look after you while he's gone. Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if something happens to you?"
Arthur only groaned in reply.
"Forgive me, Sire. I'll let you rest." Gwaine winced. The word "sire" was still difficult for him to say comfortably. He had lately been making a real effort to speak with due respect to the king, if only for the sake of the younger knights who seemed to watch his every move.
"No, Gwaine, please stay a few minutes. I think I should talk to you. Please sit down." Arthur got up and sat in his chair at the table. Gwaine sat down obediently.
"I just wanted to get out for a while, get some air. Gwen and the ladies have been completely wrapped up in preparations for the holiday feast. They kept asking my opinion about terribly important things like matching napkins to table linens and table linens to centerpieces."
Gwaine groaned.
"And to make things worse, any opinion I foolishly ventured was promptly disregarded. I was in serious danger of going mad. When the idea of hunting occurred to me, it was just too good to resist. I thought I'd slip out for a quiet afternoon in the woods and be back before anyone missed me."
"So what kept you away so long?"
"I got into a bit of trouble, I'm afraid. I had been tracking a deer and I followed it a little further than perhaps was wise. I found myself in a clearing. I had just decided it was time to turn back when an enormous baron wielding a huge ax stepped out of the trees and accosted me. I gave him my best, but he quite honestly beat me. He had me pinned on the ground and I could not move. Then he swung up that mighty ax and I thought that was the end for me."
Gwaine was appalled. Arthur continued.
"But the Baron stopped. He said if I could answer his riddle he'd spare me. What else could I do? I agreed to try. I must return to meet him in the woods on New Year's Day. If I answer correctly I'll go free. If not..."
Neither of the men considered any idea of the king simply refusing to return on the appointed day. Arthur had given his word, and Gwaine knew he would keep it.
"We must find the answer to this riddle," said Gwaine. We've almost two weeks. Surely we can find it by then."
Arthur groaned and rested his head on his folded arms on the table.
"What is the riddle, Sire?"
"It is (and I quote): 'Bring me word what thing it is that a woman most desires'."
It was Gwaine's turn to slump onto the table. "Oh no," he said.
CHAPTER 2
"Guinevere, I need to ask you a question."
"What is it, Arthur?"
"What thing do you desire most?"
"Whatever can you mean?"
"I mean, what thing do you want most of all?"
"Are you not feeling well?"
"I'm fine. I'd just like to know your answer."
"To what?"
"To the question."
"What question?"
"What do you desire most?"
"Oh."
"There must be something you can say."
"You've been working so hard. I insist that you to lie down. There, that's better."
"Please, Guinevere?"
"You don't have a fever. That's good."
"Can't you give me some kind of answer to the question?"
"I'm afraid I still don't understand."
"More than anything else in the world, what thing do you most desire?"
"I can't imagine what to say to that. What thing do you most desire?"
"You, my dear."
"Oh Arthur..."
Gwaine had gathered a dozen of the youngest knights for a special assignment. As they stood in the armory looking at him expectantly, Gwaine realized he was actually beginning to sweat. Best to get this over with, he thought.
"Men, you will be performing a special duty for the king. It is of utmost importance, and you will be sworn to secrecy about who has set you to this task. You will also be forbidden to reveal your identity as a knight of Camelot." At these words the young men looked genuinely excited. "You are to collect a large amount of intelligence from the people of Camelot in a very short period of time."
Gwaine handed a stack of parchment and a supply of charcoal pencils to each of the men.
"You will canvas the upper town, the lower town and most of the outlying villages. The map on the table will show each of you your individually appointed areas. You must each gather a minimum of three hundred responses, and on pain of death you must return by the end of the week."
The youthful energy in the room was almost palpable.
"I don't know how to tell you this, men. I guess I'll just come out with it. For reasons of his own, which are, I assure you, important..." Gwaine's words nearly failed him. "King Arthur wants you to ask the women of Camelot to tell you 'what thing they most desire'."
It only took two threats of insubordination and one reminder that time in the stocks did not help toward swift advancement in the ranks. Ultimately, all twelve of the knights promptly departed toward their assigned destinations. There were a number of unpleasant jobs that were commonly meted out to the youngest of Arthur's men. Gwaine fully recognized that this assignment had just sunk beneath them all.
"May I ask you a question, ma'am?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"What thing is it that you desire most?"
"How dare you! I'll flog you for that, you young, disrespectful..."
"Ow! Wait, I didn't mean... Ow!"
King Arthur and Sir Gwaine spent three days pouring over the survey results, searching for a trend, a common thread, a tangible answer to the riddle. The responses were surprising, amusing, frustrating and sometimes heartbreaking. They were as varied as the women who had given them. And there was absolutely no apparent trend.
"To be loved."
"A good husband."
"To be appreciated."
"A servant."
"A room of my own."
"Spending money."
"A new roof."
"No nagging husband."
"A faithful husband."
"A baby."
"To be left alone."
"A day off."
"Better health."
"Grandchildren."
"I really don't know."
"A better life for my children."
"A little peace and quiet."
"A pantry full of food."
"A good harvest."
"For my husband to come back."
"A stable for these animals."
"A gold necklace."
"A fine dress for feast days."
"I wish I knew."
"To feel young again."
"A mild winter."
"To get the last word once in a while."
On New Year's Eve the king and the knight compiled all of the pages and enclosed them in a sheaf.
"Arthur, I honestly fear the answer we need is not here."
"It must be, Gwaine. We have nearly 4000 of them. Surely one of these must be right."
"I do hope so, since we leave tomorrow at first light. But something tells me we haven't solved this riddle correctly. I feel it in my bones."
"Now you're sounding a bit like Merlin."
"Too bad he's not here."
"And what exactly does Merlin know about women?"
CHAPTER 3
On the morning of New Year's Day, Gwaine and the king departed for the meeting place.
As the two men rode across a moor, they found themselves approaching a lady sitting between an oak and a holly tree. She was clad entirely in scarlet. Her form was slender and maidenly, but as they drew nearer it became clear that the lady's face had been horribly disfigured. Her eyes were misaligned, her crooked nose was turned outward, and her mouth stood foully awry. Neither Arthur nor Gwaine had ever seen a more pitifully formed face. At the sight of her, the men averted their eyes and made to ride past without greeting, but the lady stood up and hailed them.
"My lords, a word if you please!"
Arthur and Gwaine reluctantly reigned in their horses, but neither of them were eager to speak.
"What sort of knight are you, that you will not speak to me? Do not be dismayed by my ugliness, King Arthur Pendragon. I have spoken to you courteously. Though...", she considered them both, "you have not replied at all."
Arthur dismounted, and Gwaine followed his example. "Forgive me, lady," the king said, and bowed low with great deference. "You deserve better than I have acted. I am sorry."
Gwaine bowed too. As he straightened, the lady surprised him by reaching out and for a moment, delicately fingering the pendant that he wore at his neck. Then she took two quick steps backward and abruptly turned away.
After a moment of apparent indecision, the lady took up a veil and pinned it into her hair so that it covered her face. Then she spoke. "It was my hope that you would ride by this way, my lord. I have it in my power to ease your pain. I know the answer to the riddle that worries you."
"Lady," said Arthur, "I would be very grateful to hear what you have to say."
"The Baron is my brother, and I know his riddle well. But... I must ask a price for the answer," said the lady hesitatingly. "A heavy price."
"I am listening," said the king.
"My price is," she inclined her head toward Gwaine, "that this knight who rides at your side must marry me."
"Marry Gwaine?" Arthur had to stifle a laugh. "I am sorry lady. I am afraid I haven't the right to bargain for another man's hand in marriage." The king could not suppress an innocent grin. "Much as the idea does intrigue me." The king had suddenly begun to enjoy this encounter. "Come, lady. Tell us your name."
"I am Dame Ragnelle."
At this name, Gwaine gave such a start that he nearly lost his balance, but Arthur did not notice.
"Could we perhaps discuss some other form of compensation for the answer to the riddle?" Arthur entreated her kindly.
"I fear I must ask this price and none other," said she.
"Sire," said Gwaine most unexpectedly. "Since it is my future that seems to be in question, might I have a word alone with the lady?"
Surprised but amused, Arthur nodded his head. "By all means."
Gwaine took the lady's hand and led her several paces away to stand beside the holly tree.
"I see that you do remember me after all, Gwaine." said the lady quietly.
"Yes, I do," he said. He was not so rude as to ask what had happened to her. It saddened him that she was so different from the pretty, red-haired child he had known over fifteen years earlier. It was clear to him, however, that this unfortunate woman was indeed the same person.
She spoke next. "I honestly didn't know you until I saw the crest that you wear. I recall the day your father gave it to you."
"I did not recognize you," said Gwaine. "I'm sorry." His apology referred to more than his forgetfulness.
"Where have you been, Gwaine? I always thought you would keep the promise that you made to your father, but you never came."
"Everything changed. My father died and everything he had was gone. I have no lands, no house, no money, no people. I had nothing respectable to offer you. I never imagined you'd want me to come back."
"You still have your name. And I have a claim to it. Do you deny this?"
"I can't. It is as you say."
"For the sake of your king, I ask you to be faithful to our parents' arrangement. We both agreed to it once."
Gwaine could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Can I not dissuade you?"
The lady stood motionless, looking at him through her veil.
"I will tell you honestly," he said. "I would be a terrible husband. I bring nothing to the table. I'm not terribly smart. I have few friends. I have no fortune. I cannot provide much at all for you. Living with me would not be pleasant for any lady. The knights tell me I actually stink." At the last he wanted to make her laugh, but she bowed her head.
"I know marriage is a solemn matter," said she, "and not something to trifle with. I know that I ask much of you. But still I must ask it. My house is a worthy one. It is my face alone that will bring shame to the union."
Gwaine suddenly felt pity for the girl.
"A face is a shallow thing to honor or despise. In the long run it's a person's deeds, not appearance nor name, that make the difference. When you look at it that way, I fear I am the one who should be ashamed." He tried to lighten the mood. "And somehow, in spite of everything, Arthur saw fit to curse me with knighthood. I didn't deserve it and I couldn't get out of it." He paused and looked at her. "Destiny seems intent on changing me."
She waited, not speaking.
"Are you sure this is what you want, lady?"
"I am."
It took a long moment, but at last the knight said "Alright then." He led the woman back to stand before Arthur. "My lord, I now give my solemn word that I will marry this lady upon our return to Camelot." He took off his necklace and removed a gold ring from it's place by the pendant.
King Arthur vehemently protested. "Gwaine, I cannot ask this of you. It isn't right!"
Gwaine laughed as he placed his pendant again round his neck. "Why not? Better men than me have laid down their lives for Camelot. You have to admit this is a better deal." He knelt formally. "This ring was my mother's. It is dear to me." He placed it on the lady's finger. "Dame Ragnelle, I now pledge to you my troth."
With surprising emotion the lady whispered. "Thank you, Sir Gwaine." Then, after a moment, she stepped forward to face the king. "Sire, you need only two words to correctly answer my brother's riddle. They are these: HER WILL."
Two hours later the king, Sir Gwaine and the lady arrived at the appointed clearing. The Baron was there, ax in hand, silent and expectant. The party dismounted and approached him.
"Good morning, brother," said the lady.
"Do not hail me so brightly, sister. For your sake I hope you have not been making mischief for me, but I'll wager that you have. You'll regret it."
"Your business is with me, not the lady," said the King. "I have polled my kingdom for you." He held up the sheaf of answers. "I believe I have what you require."
The Baron laughed menacingly and knocked the file from Arthur's hand, sending pages scattering everywhere. "This is no answer. You are mine for the killing!"
"I will solve your riddle," spoke the King firmly. He glanced at Gwaine as if to apologize for the price that had been paid, but stood boldly before the Baron. "You asked what thing it is that a woman most desires. I now answer that it is: 'her will'."
At these words the Baron flew into a rage. "An early vengeance be upon you!" He turned toward his sister. "You misshapen whore! For your interference I will fry you!" At this, his ax blazed red hot and he ran full long at the veiled girl.
The lady screamed and cowered, but Gwaine and the king moved immediately to her aid and a terrible fight ensued. At last Gwaine and Arthur began to best the mighty Baron, but suddenly the girl cried out in anguish. "Don't kill him! Please do not kill him! He is under an enchantment. Destroy the ax and all will be well!"
Upon hearing this, Arthur pinned the Baron's arm to the ground while Gwaine took a mighty swing at the blade of the ax. In an explosion of red flame it shattered, then all was quiet. The lady ran and threw herself down upon her brother's neck.
"Sister?"
"I am here. Are you all right? Please tell me you are all right!"
"Forgive me, sister."
"There is nothing to forgive." The lady lovingly helped the Baron to sit up.
"I must thank you," said the Baron to the other men. "I was doomed to that foul temperament by an enchantment. I could not help myself."
Arthur and Gwaine nodded courteously.
The lady talked with her brother for a long while, as if to reassure herself that he was indeed well. At last she urged him to return to their mother and bring news. "Tell her that I am well. Tell her that I have gone to Camelot." This the Baron promised to do, and they bade each other farewell.
The danger was over, and King Arthur was transparent in his relief as he prepared for the ride home.
The lady waited quietly and watched Gwaine from behind her veil. At length he approached her and held out his hand. "Shall we go?" he asked.
"You mean to keep your promise, then?"
"Of course I do," he said, leading her to his horse. Then he spoke softly, so that only she could hear. "But I have tried to warn you that I'm no catch. I'm sure you can foresee that our sudden marriage will likely come as a shock to many of my aquaintances. Are you quite certain?"
"This must be," she said almost mysteriously, and made no further reply. So he simply helped her astride.
"Let's get home, then," said Arthur, and with that they began the ride toward Camelot.
CHAPTER 4
It was mid-day when the trio arrived at Camelot, and New Year festivities were in full swing. The knights and ladies of the court were enjoying a traditional light lunch, plentiful ale, and the ample talents of a gifted bard. The king, Sir Gwaine and the lady joined the company and were seated among the party-goers. When the musician stopped for a break, Arthur stood and addressed the assembly.
"My friends," said he, "I have an announcement which will come to many as nothing short of a miracle. Tonight, after the New Year's Banquet is served, Sir Gwaine is taking a wife."
There was an uproar of merriment at these words, and a general shouting ensued from the knights. "Who's the unlucky bride?" they wanted to know. "Show us the bride!"
Arthur took the lady's hand and led her gently to the dais. "I would introduce to you Dame Ragnelle." There was a cheer, but then silence reigned as the lady curtsied but remained veiled.
The lady stood looking out at the audience for an uncomfortable moment, and then begged permission to speak. "Lords and ladies," she said in a strong voice, "I am compelled to reveal to you my face. You will see it now, and none will be left in doubt about my nature. Forgive me."
The lady lifted her veil, and there was an audible gasp from the assembly. Many of the ladies turned away in horror.
King Arthur stepped forward and took the lady's arm. "Dame Ragnelle has rendered service to our royal person. She will be most welcome among us." He said this last with a hint of decree in his voice. Then he kissed her hand with great respect and returned her to Gwaine's side.
That evening at the banquet the intoxicants flowed freely. Gwaine, who had long since learned not to overindulge in good company, abstained. The knights, however, drank loudly, and the subject of nearly all discussion was Gwaine's impending marriage. Guinevere, who sat beside the bride, winced at snippets of overheard conversation and endeavored to keep the lady's attention from it.
One fatal conversation, however, was impossible to drown out. Sir Kay, a hotheaded knight who was barely past 20 years old, was heard saying to a crowd of young idiots: "Bed her? Never! He won't so much as kiss her. What man could kiss that?"
A moment later Gwaine tapped the lad on the shoulder, and the room fell silent. "Kay," said Gwaine softly, "what are you saying about my wife?"
Kay was a bit too mirthfully drunk for his own good. "I was saying... that I have my doubts about anyone being man enough for your fine lady."
Gwaine took a firm hold of the lad's chain mail shirt and lifted him unceremoniously off of his bench. "We could talk about your manners," said Gwaine, "but I think I'd rather just teach you some."
It was said later that Kay took the first swing, and that Gwaine took the second. Of a great many. Sir Kay was young, fast and formidably scrappy, but Gwaine was ...Gwaine.
Long before a clear victor could be determined, the fight was broken up by none other than King Arthur. He cast his glare on the entire group of knights. "I am quite honestly disgusted with you. For a little foul sight and misliking you've forgotten all courtesy and paid insult to a lady who has done no wrong to you, and great good to your king." He glanced across the room at the girl, who's head was bowed. "She deserves better."
The banquet resumed, but the feeling of festive merriment was slow to return. An hour later, as the evening's events drew to a subdued climax, the bride and groom were summoned to the dais for the wedding ceremony. Geoffrey performed the handfasting, simple vows were exchanged, and a beautiful blessing was pronounced upon the couple. Then Guinevere and the ladies took the bride away to prepare her for the wedding night.
Sir Percival clapped Gwaine on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Never thought I'd live to see the day," said the big man. "I'm happy for you, Gwaine. Marriage is one of life's greatest blessings." Gwaine punched his friend affectionately and took the cup of mild mead that was proffered. The meaning of Percy's gesture was not lost on him, as he suspected the man had once been a bridegroom. The two stood talking quietly for a little while, but it did not last. Suddenly Leon, Elyan, and a few others appeared, and Percival grew mischievously boisterous. "Let's do this right, men! We've a duty to perform!" Suddenly Gwaine was mobbed by the knights, who lifted him unceremoniously off the ground.
Shouting bawdy blessings the entire way, the knights of Camelot carried Gwaine to the bridal chamber.
CHAPTER 5
Gwaine was tossed into the bridal chamber, but had great difficulty getting the door shut behind him. The exuberant knights were proving quite a hindrance. He had managed to keep both his linen shirt and trousers on during the journey up the stairs, though it had been no small feat. "Get out, you bunch of morons! Let it be!" After bestowing a number of bruises upon his mates' various limbs, the door was finally shut, and Gwaine wasted no time in slamming the bolt into place.
The room was dimly lit by a few candles and the glow of the fireplace. She sat on the floor by the hearth, veiled in white and wearing a delicate sky-blue dressing gown. Gwaine took a few hesitating steps forward. "Lady, I am so sorry for the hurt my friends have done you."
"I am not hurt," she said.
Gwaine sat down beside her. Neither of them spoke. The fire was warm, and they both watched it dance. After a few minutes Gwaine put his arm around her waist so that her back rested against his chest. He waited until she seemed to relax, and then he spoke quietly into her lavender-scented hair. "I wish I could offer you a better life than this." He pulled the hair away from the back of her neck and kissed her there. She sat very still, so he kissed her again. And again.
"Gwaine," she whispered, "you are a man of honor." Then she turned, wrapped her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly, and began to cry.
This was not the reaction Gwaine had been working to achieve. He held this warm, soft, confusing woman in his arms and said the only thing he could think of, which was "Hey, don't cry." For some reason this made the girl laugh, and she laughed through her tears as she clung to him.
Again, this was not the reaction he had been seeking.
The girl let go of his neck and leaned back to peer up at him through her veil. "Gwaine, you have just broken half of a terrible enchantment. Oh, I thank God for you!" She hugged him again and then stood and walked a few steps away. He watched as she unpinned the veil from her hair and slowly, shyly pulled it away from her face.
Gwaine was thunderstruck. The visage that emerged was perfection. It was without doubt the same face, but now everything that had been wrong about it was right. Her eyes sparkled with tears and her entire form radiated with beauty. "You have saved me," she said.
She ran back to him and threw herself into his arms, kissing his face, his neck, his chest. For a moment Gwaine tried to understand what had happened, but when the girl found his lips he was obliged to turn his thoughts to her alone. For the next several hours he lost himself in her joy.
"Gwaine?"
Gwaine slowly opened his eyes. The lady's cheek rested on his breast, and her red-gold hair cascaded across his chest. Heaven, he thought. This is heaven.
"Gwaine, it will be morning soon. I must speak with you before day comes." The lady sat up, pulled on her dressing gown, and walked to the east window. She opened it and stood looking at the horizon. Gwaine, already missing her closeness, pulled on his trousers and went to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
"The enchantment is half gone. But I must still endure the disfigurement half of the time, either by day or by night. A choice must be made before dawn." She turned and peered up at him with a terrible, serious look in her eyes. "Will you have me beautiful when you come home to me by night? Or will you have my better face at daytime to represent you to the world?" She turned away to face the horizon. "You must answer."
Gwaine looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "That's a quandary. For myself I know what I would choose. I'd have you to myself as you are now. But I know it would be a selfish thing."
She still did not look at him.
At last he put a hand gently under her chin and made her eyes meet his as he spoke. "It is you who must live your life. You make the choice. I'll support it. Whatever you decide," he hesitated, "...I'll love you."
At those words her eyes filled with tears and she buried herself in his embrace. "God bless you, Sir Gwaine," she whispered.
Just then, the first rays of golden sunlight shot through the window, making the lady's hair glow like fire. She went on clinging to him until the room was filled with sun.
"It's morning," said Gwaine at last, looking at his bride. "So you've made your decision then? Beauty by day?"
"No," she said, leaning against him.
"Will you have to change back soon?"
"No," she murmured.
Gwaine was a bit confused.
At last the lady looked up at him adoringly. "You've done it, Gwaine. You've ended the whole enchantment."
"I did?" Gwaine asked, certain he had missed something. "What did I do?"
"You gave me my will."
CHAPTER 6
Sir Kay, who was no longer able to distract himself, had resorted to pacing outside the council room. At last the door opened and the king emerged.
"What is it now, Kay?"
"Sire! It's nearly dark and Sir Gwaine and the lady have not opened their door even once since last night!"
Arthur eyed him. "Kay, please don't take this the wrong way. You're an idiot. What are you thinking? Do you suppose that the lady has murdered him?"
"Of course not, sir!"
"Then why not leave them in peace?"
Kay looked down at his feet. "I need to apologize to the lady, my lord. I'm going to go mad if I can't do it soon."
"Then go and knock on the door, for goodness sake! It might open. Heaven knows it's been long enough. Gwaine will want more than bridal cake for supper, I'll guarantee you that."
"Thank you, my lord!" Kay made a far-too-quick bow, then ran for the stairs.
The bridal chamber door opened just before Kay's fist could make contact, giving the youth a terrible start.
"Kay, what are you doing here? We were just coming out."
"Sir Gwaine, I just want to tell you I'm sorry. My behavior last night was deplorable."
"Who's there?" came the lady's voice.
Kay immediately dropped to his knees and abased himself, bowing his head. "Ma'am, I beg you to forgive my terrible words. I regret all of the hurt I have caused you. To make amends, I pledge to you my service. I promise to defend your honor until the day I die."
Gwaine suppressed a chuckle. "You never do things part-way, do you lad?" He winked at his wife. "What say you, lady?"
Kay remained on the floor, head bowed humbly.
"Sir Kay, I accept your service. I now require that you look upon my face."
Looking up, Kay let out a surprisingly girlish squeak and fell backwards.
Gwaine nearly died laughing. The lady, amused but concerned, helped a gawking Kay unsteadily to his feet.
"That was worth all that came before," said Gwaine. "Are you all right?"
"Y-y-yes," stammered Kay.
"You're far too concerned about appearances, lad. It's something you need to be letting go." Gwaine clapped him on the back. "Come. Kiss my bride, brother Kay, and all will be amended."
The young knight shakily obeyed.
Then Gwaine took his lady's hand. "Shall we go and cause a mild uproar at supper then, wife?"
"Yes, husband," she said, and smiled.
"Cozen Gwaine," sayes Sir Kay, / "Thy chance is fallen arright, / For thou hast gotten one of the fairest maids / I ever saw with my sight."
"It is my fortune," said Sir Gwaine; / "For my unckle Arthurs sake / I am glad as grasse would be of raine, / Great joy that I may take."
Sir Gwaine tooke the lady by the one arme, / Sir Kay tooke her by the tother, / They led her straight to King Arthur, / As they were brother and brother.
King Arthur welcomed them there all, / And soe did Lady Guinevere his queene, / With all the knights of the Round Table, / Most seemly to be seene.
King Arthur beheld that lady faire / That was soe faire and bright, / He thanked Christ in Trinity / For Sir Gwaine that gentle knight.
Soe did the knights, both more and lesse, / Rejoyced all that day / For the good chance that hapened was / To Sir Gwaine and his lady gay.
THE END
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
How to Handle a Woman
CHAPTER ONE
"Arthur, out with it."
"What are you talking about, Merlin?"
"Riding with you today is almost as fun as wrestling a wilddearen. What exactly has got such a burr in your saddle?"
Arthur was sitting against a fallen tree trunk, looking down at the dirt between his boots. "Nothing," he said, which they both knew actually meant "I don't want to talk about it."
The man seemed utterly morose.
Almost as soon as the Five Kings had officially parted company from the peace talks, and before all of the visitors had even left Camelot's gates, the prince had suddenly insisted on taking a long hunting trip. He had barked at Merlin to finish packing before there had really been a chance to begin, and then to save time, "his highness" had actually gone and saddled the horses himself.
Five exhausting hours of hard riding later, Arthur stopped and dismounted, then threw up his hands in frustration. His horse was missing a shoe. While Merlin was sent to retrace the last few miles of their ride, the prince magnanimously took a nap . When the servant returned empty-handed, Arthur's mood seemed actually worse than before, and Merlin had had enough.
Aside from being irritated and exhausted, Merlin was befuddled. He knew for a fact that the day before, Arthur had been kissed by Gwen in the tournament tent. While his own experience with kissing had been admittedly limited, it had been enough for Merlin to expect Arthur to be in a better mood. What could possibly be bothering him?
"Since you have failed to find the horseshoe, I'm going to have to find a blacksmith. There's a town about six or seven miles from here. I suppose we'll have to camp here, and then walk to town in the morning."
Merlin internally noted that Arthur had not insisted on continuing to the town immediately, which meant he understood Merlin was tired and wanted to rest. Merlin appreciated it, and let the gesture take the edge off of his annoyance. He set about making camp.
"After the week we've had, I suppose we should be grateful to get away for a while," said Merlin, fishing. "At least there aren't any girls around."
"That's debatable," said Arthur.
The insult was pathetically weak, and Merlin simply laughed at it as he cleared space for a small fire circle. "You know, you're really quite good at brooding. I'm sure it takes exhausting effort."
"At least as much effort as you put into your mindless prattling."
"No, for me that definitely comes easily." Merlin began walking around the clearing, finding branches and twigs for burning.
Arthur continued to study the ground. At last Merlin stopped and looked at him.
"Come on, Arthur. Tell me what's wrong."
Arthur looked up at Merlin, and then looked at the ground again. "You wouldn't understand. It's … girl trouble."
"Ah." For once, Merlin wisely said nothing and waited.
"I went to see Guinevere. I wanted to apologize. I thought that after she had..."
He trailed off. Merlin, unbelievably, kept his mouth shut.
"She sent me packing. I don't don't understand it."
Merlin heroically censored himself from uttering the obvious zingers and instead quietly placed kindling in the fire ring.
"One minute a girl is kissing you, and the next she's telling you to get out of her sight," said Arthur. "What can she be thinking?"
Merlin considered that. He thought of Gwen and Vivian. Then he thought of Morgana. "I wouldn't worry too much about not knowing what a woman is thinking. They don't do it very often."
Arthur sighed. Merlin lit the fire.
"I have no idea how I'm supposed to handle Guinevere. I need to figure it out."
"And that's why we've ridden leagues and leagues into the woods today?"
"It's much easier to think out here."
Merlin listened for a moment to the trees rustling quietly. "I suppose it is," he said. This was something Merlin could understand, and it explained why Arthur had lately been so keen on impromptu hunting and fishing trips.
Supper was cooked. Crickets chirped. Companionable peace reigned, until it was replaced by snoring – which neither of them noticed.
CHAPTER 2
The smithy was closed and the blacksmith was out of town. Neighbors had assured Arthur and Merlin that the craftsman's return was imminent, and thus, the two had agreed that the best plan would be to lodge at the local inn and wait.
The inn was smallish, with six rooms upstairs and a kitchen and great room below. While it was not a palace, it was uncommonly clean – a fact that both Arthur and Merlin appreciated. The innkeeper had shown his guests to their room and informed them that a luncheon of ham and bread would be served downstairs soon. Arthur and Merlin needed no further coaxing, and within minutes had descended to seat themselves at a table in the great room.
"Merlin," said Arthur, an hour later.
"Yes, said Merlin, whose belly was full and whose eyelids were beginning to droop.
"Do you see that little serving wench?"
"The one who brought the food? Yes, what about her?"
"Watch what she's doing."
Merlin watched as the girl went about her work. "She seems a bit distracted, I suppose."
"Distracted by what?" asked Arthur, as if he were Socrates.
"I don't know," said Merlin.
"Watch her," said Arthur.
Merlin watched for a while. "Ah," he said. "She has eyes for the musician."
"Now take a look at the innkeeper," said Arthur.
"Youngest innkeeper I ever saw. He couldn't be any older than you."
"Watch him."
Merlin watched for a few moments. "Do you think the innkeeper is in love with the serving girl?"
"Exactly!" Arthur was pleased with his pupil. "And what do you think of the musician?"
Merlin appraised him. "Not my type," he said.
Arthur socked Merlin in the head.
"Ow."
"The musician is a pompous idiot," said Arthur. "Look at him. He's got that little circle of followers about him. The girls almost all seem to be vying for his attention, but he just toys with them. See how he keeps checking his reflection in the mirror?"
"Arthur, since when did you become such a keen observer of the human condition? Your sensitivity surprises me."
"Shut up, Merlin."
Merlin laughed and continued watching the little drama playing out in front of them.
The serving girl, a sweet, smiling, rosy-cheeked young woman who answered to the name "Heather", took pains to see that the musician's glass remained full. The musician, a man called Seamus, would smile and wink at the girl whenever she appeared at his side. He once even stroked her cheek, making the girl blush prettily.
Something Heather obviously did not know, but which Arthur and Merlin picked up on rather quickly, was that aside from making serving girls blush, Seamus had other ambitions. The flirtatious cad was maneuvering feverishly to get his hand onto the knee of the haughty, well-endowed blonde seated at his right. The man had not yet succeeded, but his determination was unmistakable.
The Innkeeper was fixing a broken chair just a few yards from where Merlin and Arthur were seated. "Heather," the young man called, "Will you please help me for a moment?"
The girl dutifully appeared in front of him and held two pieces of wood together while the innkeeper lashed them. He tried to catch her eye. "It was market day. Do you need me to help you carry your things home tonight?"
"Thanks Janus, that's kind of you. But no, I can carry it all just fine. Besides, Seamus asked me to come hear him play tonight, and it may be late when I head home. Thanks for offering, though." Within moments the girl had returned to the customers.
The innkeeper's face remained steady, but his eyes spoke volumes to the men who stealthily watched him. It was quite honestly a bit heartbreaking.
"The chap is going about this all wrong," said Arthur.
"And you know this because...?" asked Merlin.
"I think the results speak for themselves," Arthur said, gesturing toward the Innkeeper.
"This would also be my point," said Merlin, thinking of Gwen.
Arthur looked at him dismissively, not understanding, and then stood up.
"What are you doing?" Merlin asked.
"I'm going to give our clueless friend here a few pointers, so he can rescue his lady from that idiotic musician."
"I'm not sure that's wise," said Merlin.
Arthur, as usual, ignored him.
CHAPTER 3
"I like this Janus," said Arthur, as he and Merlin walked outside. "The man is an excellent innkeeper. Quite a sensible fellow."
Merlin had to agree. The building was spotless, the guests were comfortable, the workers were both genial and efficient, and the food was good. Janus was a tall man in his early twenties. He had an easy smile, but his stature and intelligence made people think twice before trying to cheat him. Merlin had learned that Janus was not the owner of the inn, but it was easy to see how the man had won such an important position at such a young age.
Merlin's curiosity became unbearable. "So what did you two talk about?"
"I gave him a few tips on how girls like to be treated."
"Oh?"
"Girls love compliments. I advised him to flatter her."
"Arthur, that's..." Merlin was a bit speechless.
"Brilliant, I know."
"That's not exactly what I was thinking."
"Oh, what would you know about it? I've seen it work on girls before. Morgana lights up over that sort of thing."
Merlin gave him a wry look.
"Shut up, Merlin."
"Did I say something?"
"You were thinking it."
"No I wasn't."
"Yes, you were."
"No I wasn't."
"Merlin, why don't you go fetch some water and oats for the horses?"
The companions spent the afternoon checking on their horses, walking the length of the town (no great distance), and snoozing. After such exertion, both prince and servant managed to be ravenous by suppertime and enjoyed another excellent meal at the inn. By the time Heather had cleared away their dishes and Janus had refilled their cups, the musician had arrived to begin his performance. Merlin and Arthur settled into their seats to watch the show.
Seamus was not a bad musician. He had a good voice and a wickedly sharp sense of humor. He sang the usual ballads, but his versions tended to be absurdly comedic rather than romantic. He also performed a couple of songs he had written himself. Merlin especially enjoyed the one about the royal family in Camelot, which characterized Uther as a bit of a cuckold, and Arthur as having taken a few too many blows to the head. Arthur rolled his eyes at the sheer audacity of the song, and he most certainly did not laugh at it … much.
Heather watched Seamus with rapt attention, and her eyes glowed whenever he looked her way.
Janus stayed busy looking after his patrons, but as the musician stepped outside to take a break, Arthur and Merlin watched the innkeeper cross the room to speak with Heather. They couldn't hear the conversation, but this is what they saw.
Janus took Heather's hand, looked into her eyes, and said a few sentences.
Heather looked at him with a great deal of surprise on her face.
Janus bent and kissed her hand.
Heather pulled her hand away abruptly and took two steps backward.
Janus took one step forward.
Heather turned to walk to a chair, picked it up and carried it to Janus. Then she pushed the big man toward it.
Janus obediently sat down.
Heather placed her hand on his forehead. With a concerned look on her face, she went to the kitchen and returned with a cup of water. She handed it to Janus and seemed to wait expectantly.
Janus obediently drank from the cup.
Heather picked up her apron and began to fan the man.
After a few minutes, Seamus returned to his place at the front, and Heather returned to watch the rest of the performance.
"What just happened?" said Arthur to Merlin.
Merlin ventured a guess. "Flattery?"
CHAPTER 4
Merlin was feeding and grooming the horses while Arthur sat helpfully on a rail, watching. Janus entered the stable, picked up a broom, and began tidying up.
"Ah, Janus, good morning," said Arthur.
"And good morning to you," said Janus. "I hope you slept well."
"I did, thank you."
Janus looked over at Merlin. "And how did you sleep, sir?"
Arthur realized they hadn't been properly introduced. "Oh, excuse me. This is Merlin. He's my... " Arthur had been about to say "servant", but stopped himself, wishing to protect the assumption that they were common travelers. "He's my friend."
Merlin beamed.
"Nice to know you," said Janus.
Janus and Merlin worked while Arthur sat strenuously contemplating.
At last Arthur made a vehement exclamation. "It makes absolutely no sense to me that your pretty little serving girl would pass up someone like you for that musician."
"I have to admit it has caused me more than a little dismay," said Janus.
Arthur continued his rant. "Tell the truth, Janus. Didn't you know the first moment you saw Shamus that the man was a complete idiot?"
"I suppose I didn't want to be harsh," said Janus.
" I don't think 'Idiot' is a harsh word, but... I agree it's not quite the right one. Merlin's a bit of an expert with words. Merlin?"
"Yes, Arthur?" Merlin walked over and indolently leaned on the rail beside him.
"Tell us. What are some other words that mean 'idiot'?"
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You seriously want me to answer that?"
"Yes."
Merlin smiled cheekily at Arthur and made every word count. "Dimwit, bonehead, blockhead, simpleton, dumbbell, dunce, fool, ignoramus, imbecile, cretin, muttonhead, moron, twit, nincompoop, nitwit..."
"That will do," said Arthur.
Merlin nodded respectfully, before returning to his work. "My pleasure, Arthur."
"Perhaps 'ignoramus' is more suited to the man," said Arthur thoughtfully. "The point is, there has surely got to be a way for you to win your girl's heart from someone like him."
Janus laughed genially. "From your lips to God's ears," he said.
"I've been thinking about your options. I've had a few ideas."
"God help us," muttered Merlin.
Arthur threw a piece of saddle at him and continued speaking. "You could make her jealous – you know, threaten to forget her."
Janus considered this. "Alas, I fear she might not notice nor care," he said.
Arthur plowed ahead. "You could also cajole her. A good scolding might make the girl feel guilty for ignoring you."
"Perhaps," said Janus doubtfully.
Arthur looked at Janus appraisingly, as if deciding if he should suggest the next one. "You could plead."
"I could do that," said Janus, gravely.
"I know it's not something a man ever wants to have to do," said Arthur.
"No," said Janus, "it is not. But if it worked it might be worth the cost."
Arthur thought of Guinevere. "Yes. The cost would be quite high, but it might be worth it."
They were all silent for a few moments. The only sounds were the scraping of the broom, the occasional whinny of a horse, and the incessant morning chirping of the birds outside. Then Arthur sighed heavily.
"It's uncanny the power they wield over us."
Both Merlin and Janus sighed heavily in reply.
"I'll be in my room," said Arthur, and he exited the stable.
Janus and Merlin worked quietly for a few moments. Then Janus spoke.
"Merlin, I have to ask it, so please forgive me. Is your friend Arthur of royal blood?"
Merlin looked down, searching for a witty way to avoid the question, but Janus gave him no chance by saying, "He's King Uther's son, Prince Arthur." It was no longer a question. "It's alright Merlin. You don't have to say anything. I can understand his desire to be anonymous. I won't tell anyone."
Merlin smiled sheepishly. Then he laughed. Then, after a long moment, he looked at the innkeeper seriously. "Janus, if you feel Arthur is wrong, you don't have to obey him. Certainly not in matters of the heart. Arthur isn't giving you orders – just... bad advice."
Janus nodded with a smile but spoke seriously. "I will honor my sovereign, and Heaven will bless me for it."
"Do you really believe that?" asked Merlin.
"I do," said Janus.
"Then Godspeed," said Merlin with a smile.
That afternoon, Arthur and Merlin looked out of their window to see Janus in the back yard kneeling before a frustrated and embarassed-looking Heather. He was clearly making his attempt to plead. The girl was vigorously shaking her head. Finally, she stomped her foot and pointed imperiously toward the door of the inn. Janus stood, turned away to face the door, and slowly walked toward it. Heather watched him go for a moment, then shook herself, turned, and walked determinedly in the opposite direction.
Both Arthur and Merlin were in shock after the carnage they had just witnessed.
"No man should ever have to go through that," said Arthur.
"No man," said Merlin.
Some things were simply too horrific to follow with words.
CHAPTER 5
Arthur and Merlin were bored.
"Merlin, tell me some other words for 'bored.'"
Merlin thought about it.
It was afternoon, and the companions were sitting beside the creek which ran near the backyard of the inn. The blacksmith had not yet returned, and the afternoon had begun to seem interminable.
"Well?" said Arthur.
"I can't think of anything. I think 'bored' is the only word that means 'bored'."
"I can't believe that. How about 'disinterested'?"
"Doesn't mean the same thing," said Merlin.
"Apathetic?"
"No."
"Lethargic?"
"Not quite."
"Wearied?"
"Nice try, but no."
After an hour spent throwing rocks into the water and investigating the unnatural powers of water-bugs, they saw Janus approaching the creek with a bucket to collect some mop water. When the young man noticed Arthur and Merlin, he walked over to them with a smile.
"Afternoon, gentlemen."
"Good afternoon," said Arthur. "No blacksmith yet?"
"Still no blacksmith. I'll send you word as soon as he rides into town. I can't imagine it being much longer."
"How is your lady today?" asked Merlin.
"She's avoiding me," said Janus sheepishly. "Can't say I blame her. But I tried, and that's something."
Arthur shuddered at the memory of the scene in the yard. "There has got to be a way to win her yet," he said.
Janus sighed.
"You could brood."
Janus brightened. "Ah, I thought of that too. I am brooding."
"You are?"
"I've been brooding all day."
Arthur recalled all of the instances wherein he had seen Janus at work since breakfast. "How is this 'brooding'?"
"I've been preoccupied with depressing, morbid, and painful memories since I woke this morning."
"That's not brooding!"
Merlin interjected, "Technically, it is."
"It's not at all how I would go about it," said Arthur.
"Obviously," said Merlin, thinking of the myriad objects that had been thrown at his head in the past month.
"Never mind, Janus," said Arthur. "I can see now that the technique is not going to work for you."
"I concur," said Merlin.
"Alas," said Janus rather sullenly.
"If only we understood better what women find enticing," said Arthur. "Ask them what they want and they prattle on about romance, but if you do the things they specify, I'm told they never work."
"May I ask who's been telling you this?" asked Merlin.
"The knights."
"Ah," said Merlin, completely failing to hide his amusement.
"Could you, by chance, be romantic?" asked Arthur.
"Well," said Janus reflectively, "I would if I knew what that word meant."
"Merlin?" Arthur looked at his servant expectantly.
Merlin answered with complete accuracy. "I have no idea," he said.
That evening at supper Arthur was quiet. The usual antics went on in the great room: Janus worked stoically, Heather smiled at everyone (but most especially at the musician), and Seamus continued subtly trying to woo his buxom blonde. They watched for a while, and then Arthur spoke.
"Is it hopeless, Merlin?"
"What do you mean?" asked Merlin.
"Janus is a good man. He deserves to be happy. But he can't win the lady if she doesn't want to be won."
"Sad, but true," said Merlin.
"What if that man were me?"
Merlin understood. He looked seriously at his agonized friend, trying to think of a way to advise him and perhaps ease his mind.
"Arthur, I believe when you get to the heart of it, there's only one way to handle a woman."
Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, inviting him to continue.
"Just love her. Everything else can ring false, but not that."
Arthur was listening, but he did not understand. "What will that do for me?"
"It might not do anything for you. She may not do what you wish. She may not love you back. She may not even hear you out. But if you love her, she will know. She will know that she is loved. Sometimes that can be more powerful than armies or magic or anything else on this earth."
Merlin stopped talking, and Arthur was a little surprised by how sad and distant his companion suddenly seemed.
"That's it?" Arthur asked. "Just love her?"
"Just love her," said Merlin.
Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head with an obnoxious smile, so that Merlin wouldn't think this "just love her" business had had any effect on him. But he did begin to think about it.
Merlin, being wise, understood and held his peace.
CHAPTER 6
When Arthur and Merlin appeared for breakfast at mid-morning, Janus was nowhere to be found in the inn. It was Heather who greeted them at their table with her usual smile and a cheerful "Good morning!"
"Good morning," said Arthur, unable to resist smiling back.
"I hope you slept well. Shall I bring you some breakfast?"
"We'd love some," said Arthur.
"I'll be off to fetch it, then. But," she paused, "I was asked to give you a message as soon as you were up. The blacksmith is back – returned late last night. The man's agreed to shoe your horse this morning. You'll find the smithy open when you go there."
"That's excellent news!" said Arthur. "Thank you."
Merlin smiled at her. "Just out of curiosity, where is Janus?"
At the mention of the innkeeper's name a shadow almost imperceptibly crossed the girl's face, but she carried on genially enough. "I'm not sure where he is. He said he had errands to run. Said he'd be back by tonight." The girl curtsied sweetly and excused herself to the kitchen.
The companions were mildly dismayed at the news that Janus was away. "I'd be sorry not to see the fellow before we depart," said Arthur.
The blacksmith proved affable as well as adept, and Arthur could tell his horse was in good hands. After completely re-shoeing Arthur's horse, he gave Merlin's horse an inspection and re-shod it as well. He chatted with the travelers as he worked, and the morning passed pleasantly.
As the blacksmith told stories of fishing in the lake country, Merlin looked outside just in time to notice Janus on the road in the distance. The big man seemed to be pulling a large handcart laden with wood. Merlin noticed that Janus was not traveling in the direction of the inn. He motioned for Arthur to look as well.
"Good," said Arthur. "Well ride that way when we're done here. Perhaps we'll get to say goodbye after all."
An hour later the two rode out. Arthur's excellent tracking skills proved handy, and in less than fifteen minutes they crested a small wooded ridge, dismounted, and peered down through the trees at their quarry.
Janus was chopping a mountain of firewood and stacking it against a shed beside a little ivy-covered cottage. Merlin had been about to call to the man, but something happened which silenced him. Heather, struggling to carry two heavy sacks, walked into their view. The girl approached Janus, set the sacks down, put her hands on her hips, and stomped her foot.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
Janus nearly jumped the height of the roof. "Heather," he said. "I... heard you were out of firewood."
"My firewood is none of your business! You shouldn't be here. You should be at the inn." The girl was clearly not pleased.
"I wanted to surprise you," said Janus, shrinking just a bit.
"Well, I'm surprised!" she said angrily.
Janus said nothing.
"You are completely infuriating!" the girl said, brushing none-too-gently past him to open her door, walk inside, and slam it shut.
Janus stood watching after her for several seconds. Then he picked up his ax, placed another log onto the chopping block, and returned to his work.
Merlin and Arthur exchanged horrified looks.
The door opened and Heather returned to the clearing to pick up her bags. They were obviously heavy, and Janus immediately took them from her and carried them to her door.
"Janus, you have to stop this!" The girl pushed the big man's chest, although it did absolutely nothing to move him. She had shouted, but now her voice became far softer. "Janus, please. You must know that this isn't going to change anything. I love someone else."
"I know," he said simply. "But I'll finish chopping the wood anyway."
Heather looked heavenward. "What am I going to do with him?" she said to the sky.
Janus just looked at her with a gentle little smile.
The girl noticed the smile, threw up her hands, and then stormed back into her house, slamming the door again.
Janus returned to the ax, logs and block, as if nothing had happened to interrupt him.
Arthur and Merlin were dumbfounded.
"Should we go talk to him?" asked Arthur.
"I don't know," said Merlin.
"I don't know either," said Arthur candidly.
They stood watching for a few moments, considering.
The door opened again and Heather stormed outside. She walked right up to Janus, stepped up onto a piece of wood so as to look him fiercely in the eyes, and then suddenly kissed him.
For a moment Janus looked just as shocked as the two men secretly watching – but only for a moment. It didn't take the man long at all to know exactly what to do. And he did it long and handily.
It took everything Arthur and Merlin had to not give themselves away right then and there. They laughed, slapped each other on the back, jumped, and quite possibly even cried all at once. If Heather and Janus had not been completely preoccupied with each other, the watchers surely would have been discovered. It could not be helped, for Arthur and Merlin very nearly exploded with happiness.
Arthur and Merlin opted to stay one more night at the inn, though they did not even hint at what they had seen.
That evening Janus worked as diligently as ever for his customers, but he openly grinned a little more often than usual. Heather was genial and sweet with everyone, but she had a new kind of smile which she reserved only for the innkeeper. Seamus strummed his instrument and flirted, and noticed with frustration that his mug seemed to stay empty far longer than he liked.
Arthur and Merlin were content to watch it all.
In the morning the companions bid Janus and Heather a fond farewell. Arthur was flabbergasted when Janus would not accept even one coin in payment for their stay.
"Serving you brought me good fortune, sir," said Janus. "I cannot take your money. Goodbye!"
Back home in Camelot, Arthur remained Arthur. He still ate like a horse, slept like a log, brooded frequently and threw objects regularly. If something new was at work within him, no one noticed.
Except perhaps Guinevere.
THE END
"Arthur, out with it."
"What are you talking about, Merlin?"
"Riding with you today is almost as fun as wrestling a wilddearen. What exactly has got such a burr in your saddle?"
Arthur was sitting against a fallen tree trunk, looking down at the dirt between his boots. "Nothing," he said, which they both knew actually meant "I don't want to talk about it."
The man seemed utterly morose.
Almost as soon as the Five Kings had officially parted company from the peace talks, and before all of the visitors had even left Camelot's gates, the prince had suddenly insisted on taking a long hunting trip. He had barked at Merlin to finish packing before there had really been a chance to begin, and then to save time, "his highness" had actually gone and saddled the horses himself.
Five exhausting hours of hard riding later, Arthur stopped and dismounted, then threw up his hands in frustration. His horse was missing a shoe. While Merlin was sent to retrace the last few miles of their ride, the prince magnanimously took a nap . When the servant returned empty-handed, Arthur's mood seemed actually worse than before, and Merlin had had enough.
Aside from being irritated and exhausted, Merlin was befuddled. He knew for a fact that the day before, Arthur had been kissed by Gwen in the tournament tent. While his own experience with kissing had been admittedly limited, it had been enough for Merlin to expect Arthur to be in a better mood. What could possibly be bothering him?
"Since you have failed to find the horseshoe, I'm going to have to find a blacksmith. There's a town about six or seven miles from here. I suppose we'll have to camp here, and then walk to town in the morning."
Merlin internally noted that Arthur had not insisted on continuing to the town immediately, which meant he understood Merlin was tired and wanted to rest. Merlin appreciated it, and let the gesture take the edge off of his annoyance. He set about making camp.
"After the week we've had, I suppose we should be grateful to get away for a while," said Merlin, fishing. "At least there aren't any girls around."
"That's debatable," said Arthur.
The insult was pathetically weak, and Merlin simply laughed at it as he cleared space for a small fire circle. "You know, you're really quite good at brooding. I'm sure it takes exhausting effort."
"At least as much effort as you put into your mindless prattling."
"No, for me that definitely comes easily." Merlin began walking around the clearing, finding branches and twigs for burning.
Arthur continued to study the ground. At last Merlin stopped and looked at him.
"Come on, Arthur. Tell me what's wrong."
Arthur looked up at Merlin, and then looked at the ground again. "You wouldn't understand. It's … girl trouble."
"Ah." For once, Merlin wisely said nothing and waited.
"I went to see Guinevere. I wanted to apologize. I thought that after she had..."
He trailed off. Merlin, unbelievably, kept his mouth shut.
"She sent me packing. I don't don't understand it."
Merlin heroically censored himself from uttering the obvious zingers and instead quietly placed kindling in the fire ring.
"One minute a girl is kissing you, and the next she's telling you to get out of her sight," said Arthur. "What can she be thinking?"
Merlin considered that. He thought of Gwen and Vivian. Then he thought of Morgana. "I wouldn't worry too much about not knowing what a woman is thinking. They don't do it very often."
Arthur sighed. Merlin lit the fire.
"I have no idea how I'm supposed to handle Guinevere. I need to figure it out."
"And that's why we've ridden leagues and leagues into the woods today?"
"It's much easier to think out here."
Merlin listened for a moment to the trees rustling quietly. "I suppose it is," he said. This was something Merlin could understand, and it explained why Arthur had lately been so keen on impromptu hunting and fishing trips.
Supper was cooked. Crickets chirped. Companionable peace reigned, until it was replaced by snoring – which neither of them noticed.
CHAPTER 2
The smithy was closed and the blacksmith was out of town. Neighbors had assured Arthur and Merlin that the craftsman's return was imminent, and thus, the two had agreed that the best plan would be to lodge at the local inn and wait.
The inn was smallish, with six rooms upstairs and a kitchen and great room below. While it was not a palace, it was uncommonly clean – a fact that both Arthur and Merlin appreciated. The innkeeper had shown his guests to their room and informed them that a luncheon of ham and bread would be served downstairs soon. Arthur and Merlin needed no further coaxing, and within minutes had descended to seat themselves at a table in the great room.
"Merlin," said Arthur, an hour later.
"Yes, said Merlin, whose belly was full and whose eyelids were beginning to droop.
"Do you see that little serving wench?"
"The one who brought the food? Yes, what about her?"
"Watch what she's doing."
Merlin watched as the girl went about her work. "She seems a bit distracted, I suppose."
"Distracted by what?" asked Arthur, as if he were Socrates.
"I don't know," said Merlin.
"Watch her," said Arthur.
Merlin watched for a while. "Ah," he said. "She has eyes for the musician."
"Now take a look at the innkeeper," said Arthur.
"Youngest innkeeper I ever saw. He couldn't be any older than you."
"Watch him."
Merlin watched for a few moments. "Do you think the innkeeper is in love with the serving girl?"
"Exactly!" Arthur was pleased with his pupil. "And what do you think of the musician?"
Merlin appraised him. "Not my type," he said.
Arthur socked Merlin in the head.
"Ow."
"The musician is a pompous idiot," said Arthur. "Look at him. He's got that little circle of followers about him. The girls almost all seem to be vying for his attention, but he just toys with them. See how he keeps checking his reflection in the mirror?"
"Arthur, since when did you become such a keen observer of the human condition? Your sensitivity surprises me."
"Shut up, Merlin."
Merlin laughed and continued watching the little drama playing out in front of them.
The serving girl, a sweet, smiling, rosy-cheeked young woman who answered to the name "Heather", took pains to see that the musician's glass remained full. The musician, a man called Seamus, would smile and wink at the girl whenever she appeared at his side. He once even stroked her cheek, making the girl blush prettily.
Something Heather obviously did not know, but which Arthur and Merlin picked up on rather quickly, was that aside from making serving girls blush, Seamus had other ambitions. The flirtatious cad was maneuvering feverishly to get his hand onto the knee of the haughty, well-endowed blonde seated at his right. The man had not yet succeeded, but his determination was unmistakable.
The Innkeeper was fixing a broken chair just a few yards from where Merlin and Arthur were seated. "Heather," the young man called, "Will you please help me for a moment?"
The girl dutifully appeared in front of him and held two pieces of wood together while the innkeeper lashed them. He tried to catch her eye. "It was market day. Do you need me to help you carry your things home tonight?"
"Thanks Janus, that's kind of you. But no, I can carry it all just fine. Besides, Seamus asked me to come hear him play tonight, and it may be late when I head home. Thanks for offering, though." Within moments the girl had returned to the customers.
The innkeeper's face remained steady, but his eyes spoke volumes to the men who stealthily watched him. It was quite honestly a bit heartbreaking.
"The chap is going about this all wrong," said Arthur.
"And you know this because...?" asked Merlin.
"I think the results speak for themselves," Arthur said, gesturing toward the Innkeeper.
"This would also be my point," said Merlin, thinking of Gwen.
Arthur looked at him dismissively, not understanding, and then stood up.
"What are you doing?" Merlin asked.
"I'm going to give our clueless friend here a few pointers, so he can rescue his lady from that idiotic musician."
"I'm not sure that's wise," said Merlin.
Arthur, as usual, ignored him.
CHAPTER 3
"I like this Janus," said Arthur, as he and Merlin walked outside. "The man is an excellent innkeeper. Quite a sensible fellow."
Merlin had to agree. The building was spotless, the guests were comfortable, the workers were both genial and efficient, and the food was good. Janus was a tall man in his early twenties. He had an easy smile, but his stature and intelligence made people think twice before trying to cheat him. Merlin had learned that Janus was not the owner of the inn, but it was easy to see how the man had won such an important position at such a young age.
Merlin's curiosity became unbearable. "So what did you two talk about?"
"I gave him a few tips on how girls like to be treated."
"Oh?"
"Girls love compliments. I advised him to flatter her."
"Arthur, that's..." Merlin was a bit speechless.
"Brilliant, I know."
"That's not exactly what I was thinking."
"Oh, what would you know about it? I've seen it work on girls before. Morgana lights up over that sort of thing."
Merlin gave him a wry look.
"Shut up, Merlin."
"Did I say something?"
"You were thinking it."
"No I wasn't."
"Yes, you were."
"No I wasn't."
"Merlin, why don't you go fetch some water and oats for the horses?"
The companions spent the afternoon checking on their horses, walking the length of the town (no great distance), and snoozing. After such exertion, both prince and servant managed to be ravenous by suppertime and enjoyed another excellent meal at the inn. By the time Heather had cleared away their dishes and Janus had refilled their cups, the musician had arrived to begin his performance. Merlin and Arthur settled into their seats to watch the show.
Seamus was not a bad musician. He had a good voice and a wickedly sharp sense of humor. He sang the usual ballads, but his versions tended to be absurdly comedic rather than romantic. He also performed a couple of songs he had written himself. Merlin especially enjoyed the one about the royal family in Camelot, which characterized Uther as a bit of a cuckold, and Arthur as having taken a few too many blows to the head. Arthur rolled his eyes at the sheer audacity of the song, and he most certainly did not laugh at it … much.
Heather watched Seamus with rapt attention, and her eyes glowed whenever he looked her way.
Janus stayed busy looking after his patrons, but as the musician stepped outside to take a break, Arthur and Merlin watched the innkeeper cross the room to speak with Heather. They couldn't hear the conversation, but this is what they saw.
Janus took Heather's hand, looked into her eyes, and said a few sentences.
Heather looked at him with a great deal of surprise on her face.
Janus bent and kissed her hand.
Heather pulled her hand away abruptly and took two steps backward.
Janus took one step forward.
Heather turned to walk to a chair, picked it up and carried it to Janus. Then she pushed the big man toward it.
Janus obediently sat down.
Heather placed her hand on his forehead. With a concerned look on her face, she went to the kitchen and returned with a cup of water. She handed it to Janus and seemed to wait expectantly.
Janus obediently drank from the cup.
Heather picked up her apron and began to fan the man.
After a few minutes, Seamus returned to his place at the front, and Heather returned to watch the rest of the performance.
"What just happened?" said Arthur to Merlin.
Merlin ventured a guess. "Flattery?"
CHAPTER 4
Merlin was feeding and grooming the horses while Arthur sat helpfully on a rail, watching. Janus entered the stable, picked up a broom, and began tidying up.
"Ah, Janus, good morning," said Arthur.
"And good morning to you," said Janus. "I hope you slept well."
"I did, thank you."
Janus looked over at Merlin. "And how did you sleep, sir?"
Arthur realized they hadn't been properly introduced. "Oh, excuse me. This is Merlin. He's my... " Arthur had been about to say "servant", but stopped himself, wishing to protect the assumption that they were common travelers. "He's my friend."
Merlin beamed.
"Nice to know you," said Janus.
Janus and Merlin worked while Arthur sat strenuously contemplating.
At last Arthur made a vehement exclamation. "It makes absolutely no sense to me that your pretty little serving girl would pass up someone like you for that musician."
"I have to admit it has caused me more than a little dismay," said Janus.
Arthur continued his rant. "Tell the truth, Janus. Didn't you know the first moment you saw Shamus that the man was a complete idiot?"
"I suppose I didn't want to be harsh," said Janus.
" I don't think 'Idiot' is a harsh word, but... I agree it's not quite the right one. Merlin's a bit of an expert with words. Merlin?"
"Yes, Arthur?" Merlin walked over and indolently leaned on the rail beside him.
"Tell us. What are some other words that mean 'idiot'?"
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You seriously want me to answer that?"
"Yes."
Merlin smiled cheekily at Arthur and made every word count. "Dimwit, bonehead, blockhead, simpleton, dumbbell, dunce, fool, ignoramus, imbecile, cretin, muttonhead, moron, twit, nincompoop, nitwit..."
"That will do," said Arthur.
Merlin nodded respectfully, before returning to his work. "My pleasure, Arthur."
"Perhaps 'ignoramus' is more suited to the man," said Arthur thoughtfully. "The point is, there has surely got to be a way for you to win your girl's heart from someone like him."
Janus laughed genially. "From your lips to God's ears," he said.
"I've been thinking about your options. I've had a few ideas."
"God help us," muttered Merlin.
Arthur threw a piece of saddle at him and continued speaking. "You could make her jealous – you know, threaten to forget her."
Janus considered this. "Alas, I fear she might not notice nor care," he said.
Arthur plowed ahead. "You could also cajole her. A good scolding might make the girl feel guilty for ignoring you."
"Perhaps," said Janus doubtfully.
Arthur looked at Janus appraisingly, as if deciding if he should suggest the next one. "You could plead."
"I could do that," said Janus, gravely.
"I know it's not something a man ever wants to have to do," said Arthur.
"No," said Janus, "it is not. But if it worked it might be worth the cost."
Arthur thought of Guinevere. "Yes. The cost would be quite high, but it might be worth it."
They were all silent for a few moments. The only sounds were the scraping of the broom, the occasional whinny of a horse, and the incessant morning chirping of the birds outside. Then Arthur sighed heavily.
"It's uncanny the power they wield over us."
Both Merlin and Janus sighed heavily in reply.
"I'll be in my room," said Arthur, and he exited the stable.
Janus and Merlin worked quietly for a few moments. Then Janus spoke.
"Merlin, I have to ask it, so please forgive me. Is your friend Arthur of royal blood?"
Merlin looked down, searching for a witty way to avoid the question, but Janus gave him no chance by saying, "He's King Uther's son, Prince Arthur." It was no longer a question. "It's alright Merlin. You don't have to say anything. I can understand his desire to be anonymous. I won't tell anyone."
Merlin smiled sheepishly. Then he laughed. Then, after a long moment, he looked at the innkeeper seriously. "Janus, if you feel Arthur is wrong, you don't have to obey him. Certainly not in matters of the heart. Arthur isn't giving you orders – just... bad advice."
Janus nodded with a smile but spoke seriously. "I will honor my sovereign, and Heaven will bless me for it."
"Do you really believe that?" asked Merlin.
"I do," said Janus.
"Then Godspeed," said Merlin with a smile.
That afternoon, Arthur and Merlin looked out of their window to see Janus in the back yard kneeling before a frustrated and embarassed-looking Heather. He was clearly making his attempt to plead. The girl was vigorously shaking her head. Finally, she stomped her foot and pointed imperiously toward the door of the inn. Janus stood, turned away to face the door, and slowly walked toward it. Heather watched him go for a moment, then shook herself, turned, and walked determinedly in the opposite direction.
Both Arthur and Merlin were in shock after the carnage they had just witnessed.
"No man should ever have to go through that," said Arthur.
"No man," said Merlin.
Some things were simply too horrific to follow with words.
CHAPTER 5
Arthur and Merlin were bored.
"Merlin, tell me some other words for 'bored.'"
Merlin thought about it.
It was afternoon, and the companions were sitting beside the creek which ran near the backyard of the inn. The blacksmith had not yet returned, and the afternoon had begun to seem interminable.
"Well?" said Arthur.
"I can't think of anything. I think 'bored' is the only word that means 'bored'."
"I can't believe that. How about 'disinterested'?"
"Doesn't mean the same thing," said Merlin.
"Apathetic?"
"No."
"Lethargic?"
"Not quite."
"Wearied?"
"Nice try, but no."
After an hour spent throwing rocks into the water and investigating the unnatural powers of water-bugs, they saw Janus approaching the creek with a bucket to collect some mop water. When the young man noticed Arthur and Merlin, he walked over to them with a smile.
"Afternoon, gentlemen."
"Good afternoon," said Arthur. "No blacksmith yet?"
"Still no blacksmith. I'll send you word as soon as he rides into town. I can't imagine it being much longer."
"How is your lady today?" asked Merlin.
"She's avoiding me," said Janus sheepishly. "Can't say I blame her. But I tried, and that's something."
Arthur shuddered at the memory of the scene in the yard. "There has got to be a way to win her yet," he said.
Janus sighed.
"You could brood."
Janus brightened. "Ah, I thought of that too. I am brooding."
"You are?"
"I've been brooding all day."
Arthur recalled all of the instances wherein he had seen Janus at work since breakfast. "How is this 'brooding'?"
"I've been preoccupied with depressing, morbid, and painful memories since I woke this morning."
"That's not brooding!"
Merlin interjected, "Technically, it is."
"It's not at all how I would go about it," said Arthur.
"Obviously," said Merlin, thinking of the myriad objects that had been thrown at his head in the past month.
"Never mind, Janus," said Arthur. "I can see now that the technique is not going to work for you."
"I concur," said Merlin.
"Alas," said Janus rather sullenly.
"If only we understood better what women find enticing," said Arthur. "Ask them what they want and they prattle on about romance, but if you do the things they specify, I'm told they never work."
"May I ask who's been telling you this?" asked Merlin.
"The knights."
"Ah," said Merlin, completely failing to hide his amusement.
"Could you, by chance, be romantic?" asked Arthur.
"Well," said Janus reflectively, "I would if I knew what that word meant."
"Merlin?" Arthur looked at his servant expectantly.
Merlin answered with complete accuracy. "I have no idea," he said.
That evening at supper Arthur was quiet. The usual antics went on in the great room: Janus worked stoically, Heather smiled at everyone (but most especially at the musician), and Seamus continued subtly trying to woo his buxom blonde. They watched for a while, and then Arthur spoke.
"Is it hopeless, Merlin?"
"What do you mean?" asked Merlin.
"Janus is a good man. He deserves to be happy. But he can't win the lady if she doesn't want to be won."
"Sad, but true," said Merlin.
"What if that man were me?"
Merlin understood. He looked seriously at his agonized friend, trying to think of a way to advise him and perhaps ease his mind.
"Arthur, I believe when you get to the heart of it, there's only one way to handle a woman."
Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, inviting him to continue.
"Just love her. Everything else can ring false, but not that."
Arthur was listening, but he did not understand. "What will that do for me?"
"It might not do anything for you. She may not do what you wish. She may not love you back. She may not even hear you out. But if you love her, she will know. She will know that she is loved. Sometimes that can be more powerful than armies or magic or anything else on this earth."
Merlin stopped talking, and Arthur was a little surprised by how sad and distant his companion suddenly seemed.
"That's it?" Arthur asked. "Just love her?"
"Just love her," said Merlin.
Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head with an obnoxious smile, so that Merlin wouldn't think this "just love her" business had had any effect on him. But he did begin to think about it.
Merlin, being wise, understood and held his peace.
CHAPTER 6
When Arthur and Merlin appeared for breakfast at mid-morning, Janus was nowhere to be found in the inn. It was Heather who greeted them at their table with her usual smile and a cheerful "Good morning!"
"Good morning," said Arthur, unable to resist smiling back.
"I hope you slept well. Shall I bring you some breakfast?"
"We'd love some," said Arthur.
"I'll be off to fetch it, then. But," she paused, "I was asked to give you a message as soon as you were up. The blacksmith is back – returned late last night. The man's agreed to shoe your horse this morning. You'll find the smithy open when you go there."
"That's excellent news!" said Arthur. "Thank you."
Merlin smiled at her. "Just out of curiosity, where is Janus?"
At the mention of the innkeeper's name a shadow almost imperceptibly crossed the girl's face, but she carried on genially enough. "I'm not sure where he is. He said he had errands to run. Said he'd be back by tonight." The girl curtsied sweetly and excused herself to the kitchen.
The companions were mildly dismayed at the news that Janus was away. "I'd be sorry not to see the fellow before we depart," said Arthur.
The blacksmith proved affable as well as adept, and Arthur could tell his horse was in good hands. After completely re-shoeing Arthur's horse, he gave Merlin's horse an inspection and re-shod it as well. He chatted with the travelers as he worked, and the morning passed pleasantly.
As the blacksmith told stories of fishing in the lake country, Merlin looked outside just in time to notice Janus on the road in the distance. The big man seemed to be pulling a large handcart laden with wood. Merlin noticed that Janus was not traveling in the direction of the inn. He motioned for Arthur to look as well.
"Good," said Arthur. "Well ride that way when we're done here. Perhaps we'll get to say goodbye after all."
An hour later the two rode out. Arthur's excellent tracking skills proved handy, and in less than fifteen minutes they crested a small wooded ridge, dismounted, and peered down through the trees at their quarry.
Janus was chopping a mountain of firewood and stacking it against a shed beside a little ivy-covered cottage. Merlin had been about to call to the man, but something happened which silenced him. Heather, struggling to carry two heavy sacks, walked into their view. The girl approached Janus, set the sacks down, put her hands on her hips, and stomped her foot.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
Janus nearly jumped the height of the roof. "Heather," he said. "I... heard you were out of firewood."
"My firewood is none of your business! You shouldn't be here. You should be at the inn." The girl was clearly not pleased.
"I wanted to surprise you," said Janus, shrinking just a bit.
"Well, I'm surprised!" she said angrily.
Janus said nothing.
"You are completely infuriating!" the girl said, brushing none-too-gently past him to open her door, walk inside, and slam it shut.
Janus stood watching after her for several seconds. Then he picked up his ax, placed another log onto the chopping block, and returned to his work.
Merlin and Arthur exchanged horrified looks.
The door opened and Heather returned to the clearing to pick up her bags. They were obviously heavy, and Janus immediately took them from her and carried them to her door.
"Janus, you have to stop this!" The girl pushed the big man's chest, although it did absolutely nothing to move him. She had shouted, but now her voice became far softer. "Janus, please. You must know that this isn't going to change anything. I love someone else."
"I know," he said simply. "But I'll finish chopping the wood anyway."
Heather looked heavenward. "What am I going to do with him?" she said to the sky.
Janus just looked at her with a gentle little smile.
The girl noticed the smile, threw up her hands, and then stormed back into her house, slamming the door again.
Janus returned to the ax, logs and block, as if nothing had happened to interrupt him.
Arthur and Merlin were dumbfounded.
"Should we go talk to him?" asked Arthur.
"I don't know," said Merlin.
"I don't know either," said Arthur candidly.
They stood watching for a few moments, considering.
The door opened again and Heather stormed outside. She walked right up to Janus, stepped up onto a piece of wood so as to look him fiercely in the eyes, and then suddenly kissed him.
For a moment Janus looked just as shocked as the two men secretly watching – but only for a moment. It didn't take the man long at all to know exactly what to do. And he did it long and handily.
It took everything Arthur and Merlin had to not give themselves away right then and there. They laughed, slapped each other on the back, jumped, and quite possibly even cried all at once. If Heather and Janus had not been completely preoccupied with each other, the watchers surely would have been discovered. It could not be helped, for Arthur and Merlin very nearly exploded with happiness.
Arthur and Merlin opted to stay one more night at the inn, though they did not even hint at what they had seen.
That evening Janus worked as diligently as ever for his customers, but he openly grinned a little more often than usual. Heather was genial and sweet with everyone, but she had a new kind of smile which she reserved only for the innkeeper. Seamus strummed his instrument and flirted, and noticed with frustration that his mug seemed to stay empty far longer than he liked.
Arthur and Merlin were content to watch it all.
In the morning the companions bid Janus and Heather a fond farewell. Arthur was flabbergasted when Janus would not accept even one coin in payment for their stay.
"Serving you brought me good fortune, sir," said Janus. "I cannot take your money. Goodbye!"
Back home in Camelot, Arthur remained Arthur. He still ate like a horse, slept like a log, brooded frequently and threw objects regularly. If something new was at work within him, no one noticed.
Except perhaps Guinevere.
THE END
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Destiny and Chicken
Lady Vivian didn't know she had been enchanted, and she knew nothing of the kind of love that could save her. King Olaf's impetuous daughter was destined for adventure.
“What on earth is Lady Vivian doing in the chicken yard?” asked Sir Peter, as he entered the knights’ barracks.
“She’s trying to catch a chicken!” replied one of the squires crowded around the windows. “She’s been at it for half an hour!” The young men were doubling over with laughter.
“I can’t believe it,” Sir Peter said. “Is she unwell?”
“She seemed well enough today,” young Michael said, “I heard her shouting at her maid, as she usually does, this morning while I lit the fires in the keep. But maid Bridget says Lady Vivian went to the kitchen and asked Cook to teach her to make roasted chicken, and Cook said she must learn to catch a chicken if ever she was to learn to cook one, and the Lady has been chasing chickens ever since.”
“What on earth is Lady Vivian doing in the chicken yard?” asked Sir Peter, as he entered the knights’ barracks.
“She’s trying to catch a chicken!” replied one of the squires crowded around the windows. “She’s been at it for half an hour!” The young men were doubling over with laughter.
“I can’t believe it,” Sir Peter said. “Is she unwell?”
“She seemed well enough today,” young Michael said, “I heard her shouting at her maid, as she usually does, this morning while I lit the fires in the keep. But maid Bridget says Lady Vivian went to the kitchen and asked Cook to teach her to make roasted chicken, and Cook said she must learn to catch a chicken if ever she was to learn to cook one, and the Lady has been chasing chickens ever since.”
Courage: The Tale of Sir William of Deira
"Sir William, help me!" Lady Sarah dangled precariously from a tree limb, desperately trying to hang on as the ferocious wolves snapped at her heels. It took all of his strength, but Sir William managed to overcome the beast that had been attacking him and took up his sword to fight off the rest of the pack. They were no match for him. The last beast fell as the lady lost her grip, and Sir William turned just in time to catch the beautiful golden-haired maid and set her gently on the ground. "My hero!" she said with a swoon, "You are the bravest knight who ever lived and I love you forever."
William sat down and set his sword on the ground. It was, in actuality, a stick. He kicked over the carcasses of the dead wolves which, in reality, were baskets for the summer vegetables he was supposed to be harvesting. Five-year-old Sarah sat down beside him and affectionately rested her head against his arm. She was twenty years his junior, the daughter of a common farmer (although to William there was nothing at all common about her), and in sad reality had recently become an orphan.
William sat down and set his sword on the ground. It was, in actuality, a stick. He kicked over the carcasses of the dead wolves which, in reality, were baskets for the summer vegetables he was supposed to be harvesting. Five-year-old Sarah sat down beside him and affectionately rested her head against his arm. She was twenty years his junior, the daughter of a common farmer (although to William there was nothing at all common about her), and in sad reality had recently become an orphan.
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