For Honor, Duty and Love

[AngelofDeath]

ooc: closed for LordNightDragon

History is written by the victors and men. If enough time passes fact becomes fiction and history legend and myth. Before England there was Albion and before Albion was Camelot. Arthur and his knights were real. As was the round table, Excalibur and even the Lady of the Lake. Merlin was both real and not real. Merlin the grizzled old magician was not real. Merlin wasn't in fact a man, but woman. A woman of great power and knowledge and friend to Arthur. Merlin was actually named Mairwen. This is the truth of the story of Camelot at its peak.

Avalon

Mairwen sat upon the shore of the lake of Avalon, the stick in her left hand drawing glyphs and shapes in the wet sand. Dark blond hair the color of wheat fell about her shoulders and she sat watching the waters and the fog that guarded the entrance to Avalon. It had been weeks since she had left Camelot to finish her studies in the Old Religion and she was ready to return home. More so she was ready to return home to see Arthur. The young king was her dearest friend in the world and secretly the love of her life. Not that she would ever tell him. As High King he could marry anyone he wished, but based on how he acted around her, Mairwen was too much like a sister. Arthur, Morgana, and Morgause had grown up together and for a period of time studied together in Avalon. That had all come to an end once Excalibur had been bestowed upon Arthur. The Once and Future King had left Avalon's misty shores to take his place as king and to bring order to the land. Once they were old enough Mairwen and Arthur's half-sisters had journeyed to Camelot. Of course by then Arthur had more than a few knights at his call and all of them had tried on more than one occasion to win any of three's hearts. The sisters were keen to be courted, but not Mairwen. No, her violet eyes were for one man and one man alone. And even though she knew he would never love her the way she loved him, Mairwen was determined to see Arthur achieve his destiny and so love was put aside for her studies to fill the role of his court adviser.

While the circumstances of Arthur's conception and birth were no large secret, the same could not be said for Mairwen. Her mother had been a steadfast and loyal follower of the old way, Gwynth had also been unmarried. No one but she knew who Mairwen's father was, and that had been a secret she had taken to the grave. Gwynth and Uther Pendragon had been close friends so when she had died, he had taken Mairwen in as his ward without a second thought. It wasn't until both she and Arthur were ten years old that she first displayed her gift. The young boy had been climbing a tree and when a new branch gave way under his weight, she had acted without thought or word and Arthur had floated down to the ground rather than crashing into it. That same summer the pair made their first journey to Avalon and their studying began. The truth of the matter was that Mairwen's father was no mortal man, but was one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Aoi. Aoi had wooed her mother with his poetry and for a time they a passionate love affair. Aoi returned to Ireland with Gwynth's heart and left her with his child, Mairwen. Whether the Lady of the Lake, knew this truth or not she had not thought twice about agreeing to teach the then young Mairwen. It was obvious she was meant for great things as was Arthur and the two of them would need the other.

With time they both grew, and with that passing of years so did her love for Arthur. At first it had been a sisterly sort of love, but as time passed that changed. With each year it grew stronger along with her determination to help him fulfill his role in history anyway she could. The one small mercy that while Arthur had shown no interest in Mairwen, he had also shown no interest in any of the young ladies and women who had been presented to him over the years. It wouldn't last forever, she knew this, eventually the other nobles and even his own knights would begin to pressure him to marry and produce an heir. That was the way of things. It had driven Uther to pursue a married woman, misuse the gifts of the Old Religion to lay with her and father Arthur. In that span of years as her love grew, Mairwen also grew from a gangly child into tall and beautiful woman. While she favored her Gwynth more than her unnamed father, his touch shone on her form here and there. Gwynth has been more lean compared to her daughter, who was gifted with curved hips and lush breasts. Mairwen was dressed in the robes of a priestess of the Old Religion. In a way she was a priestess, but in another she was not, rather than serving the people directly she would be serving Arthur and through him the people of Camelot. The soft material was a mix of sky blue and robin's egg blue, light in some areas, dark in others. The dress beneath that was the same mix of colors and clung to her body as much as it flowed around her. Although she favored riding boots normally, they had been exchanged for a pair of soft leather sandals during her time upon those misty shores.

This last trip from Camelot had given her a small sense of foreboding. Mairwen had the sight, but could neither control nor direct it with any skill really. The visions came and went as they pleased and were not always clear. And while she did not have one before she had left for or even while in Avalon, she still felt as if something were coming. Something that would change everything and all of them and not for the better she feared. The sooner she was back home the better the young sorceress would feel. Avalon was lovely, beautiful and mysterious, but the rolling green hills and the wide patches of wheat that made up Camelot was her home. No that wasn't entirely true, Arthur was her home.

The sound of a pole scraping along the bottom of the lake made her lift her head. Mairwen watched as the fog parted for the oncoming skiff. A small part of her hoped that it was Arthur, but as the fog continued to recede it became obvious that Lancelot had come to escort her home. Lancelot, knight of the round and lover of all things female. That shock of shaggy blond hair would have been shinning in the afternoon light if the sun could actually penetrate the fog. Rising to her feet as she pushed her hair back, the material of her robes and dress, swirled about her ankles in the process. She held no ill will towards the knight, but her heart was just not moved by him. If the gods were kind Lancelot would have found a new lady love in her absence. The prow of the skiff buried itself into the shoreline and came to a halt. "Lady Mairwen, you are looking well. Radiant even." Mairwen tied not to smile too brightly, even she had to admit his charm and complements had been missed in the quite strength and seriousness of Avalon's shores. Another follower of the Old Religion, if things were different she, in truth, might have considered him. One did not get to pick who they loved though and while Lancelot might have been easier to obtain, easy was not what she wanted.

"Thank you Lancelot. Did you need to speak with the Lady of the Lake before we depart?" Other than the clothes currently upon her body and her spell book siting in the stachel upon the ground, Mairwen had all the possessions she need take with her back to Camelot. Even though there was simply a large lake and a wall of fog between the two areas it was as if they were worlds apart.

"No my lady. We can leave as soon as you are ready," He nodded to the silent boatmen standing behind him. "Arthur and the others are, as expected, eager for your return. I even heard rumor of a small feast."

"Lady of Light! Small, for Arthur, means inviting anyone who is a day's ride or less from Camelot," Mairwen bent to gather her bag before walking to the skiff and allowing Lancelot to assist her in getting in. She gave the large Keep of Avalon one last look before nodding her head, "Let us be off then. You know how he hates it when anyone is late to these affairs." Arthur loved his feasts and could find the smallest reason to throw one. Once she was in the skiff Lancelot left it long enough to give it a push back out of the moist sand, before hopping back in. Mairwen settled down and watched as Avalon was soon swallowed by the mist as they headed back to Camelot. "How has everyone been?" she asked casually as Lancelot sat down beside her.

"Fine. I swear to you, on my honor, Camelot has not turned to shambles in your absence. Morgana and Morgause are still the talk of the court. Plenty of suitors as always. They've missed your company. We all have really." There was a weight to his voice and gaze that Mairwen did her best to ignore. "Arthur has been fairly despondent without his favorite advisor around."

This made her laugh almost to the point of tears. "Oh if only Lancelot. More like he has missed having the one person who used to cover for him when he wanted to scamper off and get away from every one, or was feelings the effects of too much wine and not enough sleep the next day." At the same time though Mairwen had more than once lectured Arthur for this behavior. Lancelot nodded with a faint chuckle. The skiff moved almost soundlessly as it cut through the waters of the lake. Some times the trip seemed to take forever and other times, like now it was as short as a blink of an eye.

The shoreline of Camelot slowly came into view, two horses were tied to the post near the small dock. The roan stallion was Lancelot's and the grey dapple stallion was hers. It took a few moments to navigate the deeper waters that were on Camelot's side of the lake. Once the skiff was alongside the dock, Lancelot exited first and then helped her out. While he went to untie the horses she turned to the boatman and nodded to him. He returned her farewell before maneuvering the skiff back around and headed back towards the mists and Avalon. Mairwen stood there for several moments, until the skiff was out of sight and she heard Lancelot calling her name.

"Mairwen, are you coming or shall I carry you to your mount?" Lancelot smiled at her as he held up the reins of her horse.

"No, Lancelot. my legs have not failed me yet," She turned and started walking towards him, "You and Arthur will never let me live it down, if I were to allow you to do such a thing." Taking the reins from him, Mairwen mounted her horse as he moved to do the same. The pair turned and rode to the main road that would take them home. As they rode, Mairwen lost herself in the beauty of Camelot. The rolling green hills, the wide patches of wheat. It was all so beautiful and she had missed every bit of it. They rode in silence for about an hour until the high walls and spires of Camelot came into view. Mairwen looked at Lancelot and smiled, "Last one home has to sing at dinner." that was all the heads up he was given before she suddenly kicked the stallion into a high gallop. "And you sing so well Lancelot!" She called over her shoulder as she leaned in low over the stallion's neck. The sorceress could hear him shouting, spurning his own stallion to catch up with hers. They raced down the road and through the open gates of the outer wall of the castle. Shodden hooves clattered on the cobblestone of the courtyard as Mairwen pulled the horse a sudden stop.

"Did you study magic and the Old Religion or did you spend your time racing?" Lancelot drew up beside her shaking his head. "Gods woman, the more I learn about you the more I find myself wondering just why there are not more women like you."

"And I wonder when, one of these days, she's going to get thrown onto her pretty backside racing like that," Mairwen turned from Lancelot to see Arthur walking towards them. Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral she she dismounted. His long stride ate up the ground between them and he was pulling her into a deep hug. One she returned with an equal amount emotion.

"Its good to be home." As they embraced, Mairwen silently wondered if Arthur would notice that her body now wore the symbols of the Old Religion upon her body. The curling knot work and symbols decorated her chest below her collar and curled over her upper arms to twist together on her back and down her spine. A similar pattern decorated her wrists and her ankles. She was both sorceress and priestess now.

 

[LordNightDragon]

Arthur lay in his bed motionless, sleep's grip tight upon him. To his right Excalibur hung in it's sheath, where he could easily reach the blade should he waken and need it. His sword belt was draped over the post of the headboard, and swayed softly in the night breeze. The night air drifted in through one of the arched windows of Castle Camelot. The only other motion in the room was the white linen, pulled up over most of his chest, as it moved with his steady, shallow breath. As he slept his mind took him to a time and place far from where his body lay. His dreams were filled with the adventures he and Mairwen shared in their youth. The one in particular that stuck with him was when they had been playing at Castle Pendragon, when they were both ten years old. Arthur had been climbing one of the old trees there, and the branch he was on gave way under his weight before he could reach out for the next. Mairwen had warned him that one of those old branches could crack beneath him, but as a headstrong youth he had to go up there and see for himself. He had been trying to reach the top of the tree, just to prove to himself that he could when it all came crashing down. Instead of an old branch rotting beneath him, it had been a young shoot that gave way. It had looked thick enough, but apparently was not as sturdy as it appeared. From some forty feet in the air he tumbled, arms flailing wildly, his lungs screaming at the impending impact with the hard earth below. A moment later he felt something warm and gentle like the breeze caressing him and gently bringing him back to the ground. Mairwen stood there her eyes looking at him in sheer terror and panic until his feet were firmly on the ground. She rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him. She spoke of how he had given her such a scare while at the same time she chided him for being foolish and not looking before he would leap. Her arms around him had that same warm and gentle feeling as the breeze that brought him safely to the ground. Over and over through the night that scene played out in his mind, other scenes keeping it from repeating right after itself, but those images were lost to his subconscious mind. Once again the scene played itself out, but this final time it was different. Arthur was climbing the tree with Mairwen beneath him at first. When he reached for the branch that would give way in a few short moments, he looked down and she was no longer at the foot of the tree and was not anywhere in line of sight. Just as before he continued up the tree and the branch gave way beneath him. There was no breeze to ease his descent and he fell screaming. Before he hit the earth below him, Arthur shot upright in bed nearly screaming. His body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, and the linen had fallen away to reveal his defined chest. His dark hair was slicked back also covered with the sweat of terror from his dream. One hand rested on his chest over his heart, threatening to clutch at the wisps of chestnut colored hair beneath his fingers. His breath at first was ragged and labored, but after a minute to realize it was all a dream he calmed enough to collect himself fully. "Only a dream, but thank the gods she comes home today. I thought this day would never get here." He spoke only to the soft summer breeze that worked at drying the sweat from his chest. It had only been a few months that she was gone to Avalon, and although it passed quickly, at times like this it seemed as if years had passed. There was much still to be arranged today, both in getting Mairwen home, and to ensure everything was finished before she arrived. He couldn't afford lazing in bed as he had other mornings, waiting for his full capacity to come to him. No, today full soundness of mind would have to come from blood pumping and the warm rays of the morning sun, not patience. He spared a single glance toward the window, judging it was not long after full sunrise, perhaps an hour at most, before pushing the sheets the rest of the way to his feet. He went over the items of the day briefly in his mind, foremost, although not first per se, was to find Lancelot. The young knight would be escorting Arthur's dear friend and confidant home from Avalon, the only problem was one never could tell exactly where Lancelot would be at any given hour, let alone what company one might find him in.

Arthur rose from his bed and walked over to the waiting pitcher and basin. Quickly he scrubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes with the cool water. As his hands glided over his skin the days growth of stubble caught his attention, but that too would have to wait until later. Too much to get done to bother to shave now, besides one day won't kill me. He then quickly dressed and strapped Excalibur to his side after fetching it from the headboard. As his hand started to push the door, Arthur's stomach let out an audible rumble, Damn it, I don't have time to run to the kitchen then back up to see if Lancelot is in his chambers. Pushing the door to his chambers open, Arthur turned left down the long hall to the stairs that descended to the lower levels of the castle. Four floors down he turned down the hallway on the left that extended from the landing between staircases. This level of the castle was comprised of a number of rooms, off of each of the main hallways, for the Knights of the Round Table. At the far end of this hallway were the rooms of two knights whom Arthur cherished when the time for fighting came. One had been at his side when the other had made challenge for his claim to ruling all of Britannia. When Galehaut had seen how Lancelot fought with all of his heart in defense of Arthur, the Lord of the Distant Isles was swayed to lay down his sword in service to the young King. His only request in exchange for all his support was that his quarters be in the same portion of Camelot that Lancelot's were.

Making his way down the hallway to where Lancelot resided, he saw the door open, much to his surprise. Lancelot was not one to rise so early without being dragged from the sheets by something or someone. The next sight that greeted his eyes was an equally surprising one. From Lancelot's room emerged Sir Galehaut, his head hanging low and looking very sullen. It wasn't until he reached the door to his own chambers that he raised his head enough to see Arthur coming his way. With a slight bow he greeted the young king, "Good morn my Liege," and without waiting for a response from Arthur he slipped through the archway and closed the door behind him. It took Arthur another minute to traverse the corridor and reach Lancelot's door. With a heavy hand he knocked three times at the oak door and stepped back to wait for the noble knight to answer.

Through the solid wood Arthur could hear mumbles and curses seeping through to his ears. "Damn it all, what does a man have to do to have a moments peace in his own chambers. Here I am abed with a perfect picture of beauty, a tulip among other pansies, and for the second time she must lay in wait for me. It has been so short a moment since the last intrusion that the sun hasn't had time to noticeably rise. I pray, for the sake of the ill begotten bastard that has come calling on me this time, that this is bloody important. If it isn't, he'll be lucky if all he finds is his jaw come unhinged." The hinges on Lancelot's door started to creek as the oak slowly receded into the room, "By the gods I swear..." Before he could finish verbalizing the thought the door was open enough that he could see Arthur, standing in the hall with his arms now crossed over his chest, and Arthur could see him with a sheet quickly wrapped and tied about his waist. "My Liege... please forgive my crass tongue, had I even thought you might be the one calling... how might I serve you My Lord?"

Arthur let his arms relax and fall from their crossed position to his sides; he knew Lancelot well enough to know that the stream of vulgarity was nothing more then frustrations. Apparently Sir Galehaut had intruded in similar fashion. He let a small smile cross his lips before he spoke, "Sir Lancelot, you must have forgotten when plucking the tulip from the garden that you already have a number of obligations to fulfill today." He made sure he spoke with enough resonance so his voice would carry into the room and reach the ears of his company. "I would remind you to be very careful of how you speak, lest one of the many roses of the court should happen to pass by and hear of you choosing to pluck a tulip instead of one of them. As for the rest of your words I suppose I shall not have your tongue cut from your mouth if..." he paused and gave a chuckle as he pictured the expression upon the face of the young woman who must be within Lancelot's bed. The shock and horror that the king would suggest to remove the rumored talented organ of the young knight, painted across her face as he heard a gasp escape the room. "There is a rose that I need you to fetch for me. She has been away from the court for far too long, and today she will be waiting for an escort to guide her home. I would go myself but there are a number of things I must see complete before her arrival. You and I both know Mairwen hates to be kept waiting so I would suggest you dress and be off with much haste. I will see you when you have returned to Camelot. That should be all for now, but do not think that you are not still indebted to me by doing this simple thing. I know that you would have gladly volunteered for if I had asked for those willing." He started to turn from the door way to head back to the stairwell hoping to be out of earshot before his stomach grumbled once more. He looked back one final time, "Oh and Lancelot, if this isn't bloody important enough for you, I will have things even more pressing waiting for you for the next week. There is still that chimera that has been terrifying the villagers near the northern boarders."

As Arthur started to move away Lancelot replied as was expected of him. "Yes, My King, straight away I will be off," followed by the sound of the oaken door closing, the creek of the hinges echoing through the hallway. The next stop for Arthur would be the kitchens to ensure that the preparations for the feast were already underway. It was to be a lavish and spectacular banquet in honor of Mairwen's return home. As he hurried down the stairs he could feel his stomach start to rumble once more, urging him to move faster to the bottom floor and down the corridors to the kitchen. Once through the doors, the smell of fires and roasting meats greeted him and sent his hunger over the edge. The various cooks and maids within were made to look up from their various tasks at the sound of an empty stomach rumbling quite fiercely. The head of the kitchen stared over at the young king and with a smile crossing her lips as the spoon in her hand quickly swung and struck the hand of a young boy who let out a shrill shriek as his hand withdrew from one of the pies on the nearby counter. Farra's voice echoed through the kitchen, drowning out the moans of pain from the lad as he rubbed his hand. "My Liege, that is what you get for going to bed without a proper meal within your stomach. How many times must i tell you that although you are king, this is MY kitchen and the well being of all those within this castle is MY responsibility. With all due respect that does not exclude you m'Lord." She then picked up a platter and went about to the various kettles and spits, taking bits from each thing that was ready, while shewing off a few other children who had managed to sneak into her kitchen. Each of them was obviously looking for a tasty treat before any other could get to it, but the cook's wooden spoon blocked or struck those young hands creeping toward pies or custards. "Breakfast will be served shortly, so tame your filthy mitts before I see fit to scrub them and put you to work. Idle hands are the source of all sorts of trouble, and your parents would be happy for me to teach you some discipline. Now be off with you, one and all."

She then waved Arthur over to one of the empty tables. In her youth she was certain to hold true to her naming, even now age had not withered her appearance, only graced it. Her chestnut brown hair had only a few speckles of gray dotting it in random spots, her blue eyes still sparkled brightly with energy and exuberance while still conveying the depth of wisdom and life experience that she had. The plain green and brown dress flowed gracefully about her in such a way that it made the flair of her hips less noticeable and distracted from her less than ample chest. The air about her was one of motherly kindness as well as sternness, the kind that only comes from having raised children of your own and dealing with the kind of chaos that follows in the wake of young ones. Her smile was as sweet as the deserts that were her specialty, but beneath it was a woman who was hardened as the strongest steel with a resolve that would challenge that of the most determined invaders. She set the plate down and called over to Arthur, "m'Lord you are famished, now come and eat before it gets cold. Anything else can wait long enough for you to have a good hot meal, since you were nowhere to be seen during supper last eve."

The whole time Arthur had not moved from the doorway, typically nothing would have stopped him from heading in and helping himself. Today however between the way his stomach had declared his presence, and Farra's reaction to the young ones sneaking about her kitchen, he knew it better to wait until beckoned to come into her domain. Her words all rang true in Arthur's ears as he made his way over to the table and sat down to the plate she had set out for him. Before he sated his hunger he gave the head cook a bright almost youthful smile, "Thank you Auntie, I will make sure in the future not to let obligation or duty keep me from the table you are so gracious to set for me. I fear that should I do so again, you'll box my ears far worse then you already have and I will see that spoon of yours sailing straight for my head." He set into the food before him with out expecting another word from her, and nothing more came from her lips. A short moment later he glanced up when he saw her hand come into his line of sight to set down a mug of fresh warm milk to accompany his food. When his eyes met hers he saw the last hints of a soft blush fading from her cheeks. The blush she wore Arthur presumed was partly because she knew Arthur was right in his words, and partly from him calling her the same name most of the children had for her. Some minutes later he had finished clearing the plate of every morsel and had drained the last drops from the mug. He picked the dishes up and carried them to the sink that was behind him.

While he was eating he had paid very little attention to the commotion that was a constant for the kitchen of Camelot, but with the dishes cleared and in the sink he noticed that things had quieted drastically so that a frail young voice was clear as a bell through the kitchen. "But Ma'am, Sir Lancelot had requested that he be brought breakfast in bed, as he knew he had a busy day today and would not otherwise have time for a meal. I was certain seeing to his request would excuse my tardiness." When Arthur looked in the direction of the small voice he recognized the scullery maid who was offering up her excuse to Farra as Iris, the daughter of the tanner. She had arrived at Camelot within the past fortnight with her father and older brother. Before their arrival, all the leather good that were needed in Camelot had to be shipped from Arthur's second court in Caerleon. When her father had presented himself and his family to the king, it was mentioned that they had moved to Camelot from Cardiff

Arthur stood and watched from where he was as Iris pleaded with the Mistress of the kitchens. Even though Farra was roughly the same height as the young woman, she seemed to tower over and look down at the maid, her arms crossed over her chest much the same way Arthur had been waiting at Lancelot's door earlier. He waited for Farra to start laying into the young woman with the broad side of her tongue. Odds were in favor of it meaning that there would be extra chores for her to see to throughout the day, but an idea came into his mind as a smile crossed his lips. Farra's voice carried through the entire kitchen as she scolded Iris, "Child, Lancelot has a tendency to request as much as he thinks he can get from those who he thinks will serve his whims. If he wanted breakfast in bed, he should have passed it by me first. And as for asking for a particular someone to see to it being there for him on time, he can pass that request to me as well. Do you think I am daft to his wiles? I might be a touch along in my years, but I was once a lovely young woman as well and have dealt with errant knights and their morning requests. I certainly hope it was worth it, you'll be up to your elbows in grease and grime today in exchange for whatever favor he promised to you." Her tone through the tirade had been harsh, but every word of it was truth, The kitchens and meals were her domain to command and order as she saw fit.

Before Farra could send Iris on her way to the fate of being buried beneath every filthy pot and platter in the kitchen, he stepped toward the pair from the sinks and laid his hand gently on Farra's shoulder. "Now Auntie, I am certain Iris is most sorry for being tardy to her duties, but don't you think having her scrub every last pot and plate will be a bit much? It is something she does regularly already, just a greater volume. I think a more appropriate punishment would be to challenge her with something she has never done thus far." Arthur turned enough to hide his eyes from Farra and gave Iris a quick wink of his eye. Yes, he would save her from the fate that the kitchen Mistress had already laid out, but whether she would be thankful or not would remain to be seen. "With your leave, of course I would propose a different task for her this day. As you know there is a feast to celebrate Mairwen's return from Avalon. There will be need for extra servers to accomadate the guests we are expecting. Young Iris here seemed eager to serve this one of the court morning, so why don't we let her try her hand at serving the whole this evening..." His hand quickly retreated from Farra's shoulder and he turned and headed out of the kitchen, not waiting for a response. He gave a moments pause at the arched doorway and turned to call back "Think it over, there is no need for an answer now. This is your[/B} kitchen after all Farra." With those last words he was off, a smile still teasing over his lips, to see to the rest of his tasks before Mairwen would be back home.

The remainder of the morning and the first part of midday seemed to pass in a blur. Arthur was not consciously thinking about Mairwen's return, but somewhere in his subconscious mind it was having its effect. The knowledge that she was on her way home had him distracted just enough that it seemed as if he was simply going through the motions of everything required of him. He met with all the visitors who requested audience with him when they made intention of being present for the feast known, listened to their issues and advised them as to the course he saw best for things. He spoke to those he had delegated the various aspects of the feast to so he was sure things were as he would like them. It was all just work at this point, he was more wondering what Mairwen would think of the festivities in her honor and what she would say and do to him because he was so insistent that it not be a quiet affair. Hopefully she won't turn what new skills she has learned from the Lady against me, and leave me regretting every last detail of the feast. Gods and Goddesses know her temper can flare enough to do so. I guess my only hope is that she hasn't learned anything that will leave any permanent marks, or worse. If it were not for the sound of blatantly galloping hooves, Arthur would have likely continued the line of thought he was on and pictured dozens of possible outcomes. Instead he found himself rushing to the courtyard with the knowledge it could only be Lancelot and Mairwen who came charging into the castle at such speeds. When he rounded the corner to the final passageway he slowed his pace so that his heart could slow down and he could catch his breath. The slow walk eased his tension enough so that he was able to swing the door open and pass through the arched doorway as if nothing even slowed his gait. As he passed the archway he could see Mairwen upon her steed. The horse recently reigned in from the full gallop that brought it and rider into the courtyard.

Arthur could make out Lancelot's voice carrying in from beyond the Inner Gates as he shouted. "Did you study magic and the Old Religion or did you spend your time racing?" Lancelot drew up beside her shaking his head. "Gods woman, the more I learn about you the more I find myself wondering just why there are not more women like you."

Mariwen had been looking the other direction, waiting for Lancelot to catch up. Now that both of his friends were here it was the best time to make his presence known. "And I wonder when, one of these days, she's going to get thrown onto her pretty backside racing like that," As he spoke he easily crossed the distance from the archway to where Mariwen had stopped her horse. It took her a moment to dismount and all the while Arthur could not read anything from her face. She kept it blank at that moment while he felt like every emotion and thought that crossed his mind was worn upon his countenance. No sooner had her feet finished softly alighting onto the cobblestones of the courtyard then Arthur scooped her up in his arms. As he wrapped her tight in his embrace he took her from her feet as he held his dearest friend close to him and felt her arms wrap just as tightly about him.

Just as quickly as he has swept her up, Arthur set Mairwen back upon her feet with a soft smile. "It's good to be home," she said as the beginnings of a smile touched her lips. It seemed to Arthur that she could not help but to smile as she spoke the words. The smile was so different from how she had looked a moment ago that it made Arthur pause to think a moment bofore he spoke.

What could be on her mind that she is trying to hide her enthusiasm about coming home... No matter right now I am certain I will hear it from her later. He gave her another smile before he leand down and kissed her cheek softly and whispered softly into her ear. "I'm glad you're home. I've missed you terribly." He slowly drew away and let his voice return to his normal tone. "I'm certain Lancelot has told you all about the festivities planned in your honor, but you will be happy to know that there is a bit of time for you to relax and settle back home before they all begin. I hope you're not going to be overly upset with me for making such a big deal of your homecoming Mairwen."

"My Liege," Lancelot quickly interjected when the young king had finished speaking, "we have been friends for quite some time now. I have to say that I am both shocked and insulted that you think I would dare let all of your cats out of the bag as it were. I have done no more then tell enough so that Mistress Mairwen was adequately prepared for the sight of Camelot in it's current state. Indeed your surprises are yours to reveal, although it seems am be part of the entertainment this eve, at our priestess's request." As he spoke he did his very best not to flush red as he thought about having to sing for his supper at the feast. Why did i ever let her goad me into that being the terms our wager on the race home, he thought and grimaced to himself.

Arthur turned his head to Lancelot and smiled, "Ah so it was you who started this little race. I guess it shall serve you right this eve, and I look forward to your performance, but i do hope for the sake of our guests that you find yourself some skilled accompaniment. The last time this happened some nearly ran from the hall if i remember correctly." He gave pause long enough for the words to sink in to his friend, for that wasn't quite how things happened, those who ran from the hall did so simply to avoid being trampled by the swooning women who attempted to flock Lancelot. He then gave a chuckle, "and I will be sure to post an extra guard so that everyone stays in their seats this time. Poor Bedivere had bruised ribs for a week because he couldn't move fast enough."

His smile persisted as he turned his eyes back to Mairwen. It was at that moment that he let his eyes really look at her for a moment. At first he was so excited to see his closest and dearest friend that the subtle changes were not noticed. It was now that he let his eyes slide over her that he saw the intricate knot work scrolled over her chest and up to her neck. His eyes went to her hands next and saw the same patterning about her wrists. The artwork was beautiful, but beyond that is belonged. It was as if he was seeing his friend for the first time. He knew who she was, but the symbols that marked her as both priestess and sorceress cast her in a totally different light. No longer did the tomboy who he grew up with look back at him, in her place stood a fully fledged and initiated woman. By the old gods how she has matured into such a woman as I have never lain eyes on before. She is nearly kin of blood though, and I dare not risk the bond we share to let her know i see her much beyond hte same old Mairwen. Atleast not until she makes some indication as to how i should see her. As much as I missed my friend while she was gone, the feelings would be ten times worse were she right here and yet I had that same distance from her. Softly he reached out his hand to her. "If it would please the lady, I beseech the honor of escorting you where ever you would like to go from here."

 

[AngelofDeath]

Mairwen pulled her bag from the saddle bag before she laid her hand in Arthur's. Looking back she gave Lancelot a small nod before returning her gaze to her King. "Well your highness, if its not too much trouble I think my first stop should be to my chambers to put away my things and find something a bit more comfortable than my formal clothing." While the two of them had grown up together and it was common knowledge for them to be very open with one another, for moment at least until they were in private they were King and Priestess. The weight of Arthur's hand in hers was a welcome comfort. Of course their closeness wasn't the only think she had missed about him. Lancelot's small mutter as he dismounted and began to lead the horses for the stables did not go unnoticed. Speaking without looking the knight's way she said, "We could always duel, Lancelot." Mairwen didn't have to turn around to see the look of half mock horror that crossed the man's face. Magic may have been her gift, but she had learned how to wield the blade right next to Arthur. With a small chuckle she inclined her head to Arthur.

"Shall we?"

The pair started back into the castle. On the way to her chambers of course, they were stopped by either members of the staff, household, or court wishing to welcome her back. It was nice to know she had been missed because she had missed all of them herself. Avalon was, well Avalon and while not devoid of people to interact with it was not nearly as busy as Camelot was. Truth was very few kingdoms were. It wouldn't take long for news of her return to spread to outer villages if it hadn't already. Mairwen could foresee the droves of people seeking her aid or counsel on just about everything and anything. Not that the young priestess felt burdened by the people, but she knew much of her free time would soon be occupied by others. Which, when one considered how she felt towards her king, was not a bad thing. She had years of practice though when it came to hiding her true feelings from Arthur's eyes or anyone else's for that matter.

As they walked Mairwen took in all of the sights and sounds, that had in her absence, been just fond memories. Servants, children and knights went about their days, though all managed to stop the pair at least once to welcome her back, receive a hug or to ask for a dance at the evening's festivities later on. In all what should have been a quick trip turned into nearly half an hour of stopping and talking. The last had been Gawain, who had cut short his plea for a dance, when Arthur sent the knight a small glare.

"I believe my Lady thaat I have kept you and his majesty long enough with my idle chatter. Til this evening." Gawain bent and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand, before departing. Mairwen had to stifle a small chuckle as she was sure that if one more person stopped them, or rather one more knight stopped them, he was going to bar them all from dancing with her that evening. "They mean well, Arthur, even if they are a bit overwhelming at the moment. Such eagerness would have a stranger believe that I was the most sought after woman in Camelot." The pair continued on and managed to avoid any more stops.

Once in her chambers, Mairwen all but flung her cloak upon the nearest chair and laid her satchel upon the table with a noticeable thump. It truly was good to be home. Smoothing her hands down over her dress, Mairwen turned to look at Arthur. Now that they had some privacy she took the time to really look at him. While it hadn't been all that long since she had left, Arthur looked different. Maybe she was just being foolish, but there was something on his mind. Something that was weighing him down slightly. At the same time, Mairwen saw in him the King everyone else saw currently and the one they all hoped he would become with age. Uther had been like a father to Mairwen and while she had loved him dearly, Uther had his faults. Faults that had eventually led to his death. If nothing else, she would at least steer Arthur from following in his father's path completely. While Uther had respected the Old Religion, he had seen it as more of tool than the foundation of their lives; the fabric of their reality.

Arthur was the complete opposite of his father, but that also came from having being schooled on Avalon. Her friendship might have also played a role in his views. It was hard to see magic and those blessed with its gifts as those who could be only of use to you when one of the closest people too you wielded those gifts. Before she was aware of it, Mairwen had crossed the floor and laid her left hand upon his cheek, thumb scraping against the day's growth of beard. "Stop looking so serious Arthur. It will make you old before your time, and I for one do not wish to serve and old man, until I am as old and grey as Farra." When he smiled, Mairwen smirked, "And don't you dare tell her I said such a thing." Her hand lingered longer than it should have, but eventually it fell from his face.

"So tell me, what have I missed? I hated not being able to write or receive word while on Avalon. The gods take me, but I was bored to tears some days. So many ceremonies and scrolls and ancient tomes. Do you know I plan to be a layabout tomorrow? I want at least one day to start that doesn't include being up to welcome the sun."