Conquest Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Morgause hung on to life by a thread.

Arthur’s first night as Camelot’s king was spent in Gaius’s infirmary sitting at his sister’s side. Morgan was freed from her chambers and filled in on what had happened to her father. She greeted Arthur tearfully and with a tight hug that hurt the cut on his neck.

“Arthur, it was awful! I walked in on them!” Morgan said. Her body was wracked with sobs as she told Arthur how she’d come to be locked in her rooms.

“Shhh…it’s over now.”

“It will never be over for me! It will especially never be over for Morgause! How could he, Arthur? She was raised as his daughter!”

Arthur patted Morgan on the back and tried to comfort her.

“The worst part was her eyes. The shame in them was so terrible. She was ashamed when she had done nothing wrong. I don't understand. How could he do this to her?”

“He’s a sick man, Morgan. He can’t hurt her again. She is forever safe from him, I promise you. Listen to me. You must remain strong for Morgause. You cannot speak of these things in her presence. She may hear you and that could destroy what little desire she has left to survive.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Come along, now. Let us sit with her.”

That talk had been twelve hours ago. Morgause now slept with her head on her arms beside Morgause’s bed. Arthur wearily sat in a chair beside her, struggling to stay awake and succeeding only in keeping himself in a hazy world between sleeping and waking.

A firm hand on Arthur’s shoulder roused him fully awake. He looked up and saw Morgause next to him. She looked as broken as ever in spirit, but otherwise fine.

“Sister!” Arthur shouted. Forgetting her injuries he stood and swept her off her feet in a hug. “Morgan, wake up! She’s awake!”

“She can’t hear us, Arthur,” Morgause said.

Arthur sat Morgause back on her feet. “Why not?”

“You have reached a place between the dream world and the waking world. That is where I am now.”

Arthur’s heart fell with grief. “I’m dreaming.”

“No, I assure you this conversation is quite real. I have magic, remember? I often visit this world to escape life. I came here quite often when Uther would…summon me…Oh!”

Her face crumbled and she turned from him. Her thin shoulders were racked with quiet sobs.

“You feel ashamed don’t you? Morgause, look at me. Please, look at me.”

He urged her to turn to face him. She kept her eyes downcast. “I am close to death.”

“Gaius said your injuries will heal. It is you who has to want to live.”

Morgause nodded. “I know.”

“Sister, you should not feel ashamed for what Uther did to you. He is to blame, not you.”

“I could have used magic to stop him but I didn’t.”

“You were trying to protect me as any good sister does for her brother. Uther used your good heart and your kind spirit to hurt you in the worst possible way. You are not to blame for is evil, Morgause. No one in this kingdom blames you for what happened, especially me.”

He hugged his sister close and felt her arms wrap around his waist. “Uther has broken my spirit as surely as he has broken my head.”

Arthur hugged her closer then. “I am king now. I don’t feel ready to lead my people, especially at a time of war.”

“You are ready. You are wise and fair, Arthur.”

“I am not as wise as you. I need your council, Morgause. I need you by my side to help right Uther’s wrongs.”

Morgause looked up at him. “You call him Uther.”

“He is not my father. Not anymore. My first official act was to change your name back to Morgause.”

“Thank you. Not just for righting my name but for being brave and standing up to Uther.”

“For you and Morgan I would face Death himself a thousand times over. You and Morgan are my family. My blood. There is no one in the world above you.”

Morgause broke into tears and hugged Arthur even tighter.

“I will try to hang on, Arthur. For you, I will try to live.”

The relief Arthur felt was so powerful he found himself jerking awake. Tears streamed down his face and he wiped at them. The loss of Morgause, alive and well and promising to try to live for him, was like a blow to the chest.

“Hang on, Sister. You are loved and needed. You are safe from Uther forever.”

He hoped she could see and hear him with the same clarity that he’d seen and heard her only moments before. He hoped he had really seen her, that it hadn’t all been a fanciful dream, that her magic really did let her find him and speak to him.

*****

Being the king was more difficult than Arthur anticipated. He spent the next month weeding out traitors who plotted against him and cowing council members who tested him to see whether he was cowardly or brave. When it became apparent that his father’s old council was determined to reject him as king on the basis that he had wrongfully seized power, Arthur had them all dismissed and banished forever from the kingdom. Now his new council consisted solely of Percival and Gawain, the two men he trusted most.

He saw very little of Minerva and Guinevere. They joined him for dinner in the dining hall but otherwise he had no contact with them. He learned that both Guinevere and her mother spent time sitting at Morgause’s side, nursing her back to health as best they could. It quickly became apparent she was strongest when Arthur came to visit her in the evenings.

“My Lord, have you considered what you shall do with regards to..well…us?” Minerva asked one evening as they joined him for dinner.

“What to do with you has been at the forefront of my mind for quite some time,” Arthur admitted. “I am still not certain. I could try to return you to your husband but what is to say he wouldn’t kill the men who deliver you home? What is to say he wouldn’t pledge war until he conquered me?”

“My father is not that kind of man. He longs for peace. He never wanted this war. This was Uther's doing," Guinevere said.

“Too much has happened between our two kingdoms. I have no guarantee Merlin and his people would agree to peace. My father has killed -- I have killed, many of his people. If Thomas and I agree to peace I'm certain Merlin will wage war on his own.”

“Not so,” Minerva answered with an emphatic shake of her head. “He desires peace the same as my husband.”

Arthur wanted to believe them but peace was not easily established in a time of war, especially when so much had happened between the rulers who had the power to bring about the end to war.

“I will consider it,” Arthur said.

“Thank you,” Minerva offered, though he could hear the disappointment and worry in her voice.

“It is I who should thank you, Your Majesty. You and Guinevere have shown Morgause great kindness. I appreciate it.”

“Before the war my husband and your father called one another friend. I certainly held Igraine close to my heart. We corresponded often through the years. Though we did not have the opportunity to visit one another as much as we wanted, your mother and I never lost touch completely. I have always been fond of you, Morgause, and Morgan. So is my husband.”

Arthur understood what Minerva didn’t say as much as what she did say. Their families have a personal history of friendship that, though splintered by war, didn’t have to remain so. They could mend what Uther had damaged but only if Arthur was willing.

He was.

The doors to the dining hall opened and Arthur looked up to see Morgan enter with Morgause leaning heavily on her arm. Arthur stood from the table, nearly choking on a bite of roasted leg of lamb.

“Morgause!”

“I was told we were having leg of lamb for dinner. I thought I should get to the table before you ate it all,” Morgause joked. Arthur moved toward her but Morgan held up a hand.

“Be careful, Arthur, don’t crush her in a hug,” she warned.

“I’d never,” Arthur said, but in reality he was thankful for the warning. He probably would have crushed her in a hug indeed. When he turned back to the table, he saw that Guinevere was smiling at him.

As though she realized she was being unforgivably nice to him, she quickly looked back down at her plate.

*****

Arthur granted Guinevere and Minerva free passage about the castle on their word they wouldn’t attempt an escape though he didn’t believe they would try such a thing.

“Guinevak sounds like my kind of girl,” Morgan said. She and Guinevere walked arm in arm down the corridor, most likely heading for Morgan’s favorite place in the winter: the arboretum.

Now he walked with his sister and captive-turned-guest down the corridor and blanched when he realized that Guinevere had spoken of his time in King Thomas’ camp.

“What?” Arthur demanded. “What have you heard?”

Guinevere laughed at his panic. “I was just telling her about your visit to my father’s camp in Norgoran.”

Morgan looked falsely scandalized. “Arthur, really! Taking the king’s youngest as your lover!”

“I did not take her as my lover. It was a huge misunderstanding.”

Guinevere and Morgan giggled. Arthur hated it when girls giggled. He opened the door to the arboretum and followed them inside.

“I thought she was someone else!” he elaborated in annoyance.

“Who?” asked Morgan eagerly.

“Me,” Guinevere said. They laughed even harder.

“I am the king!” Arthur shouted impotently. He resisted the urge to stomp his foot in indignation. This made Morgan and Guinevere double over with laughter.

“Ladies,” Morgause said. She was already resting by an indoor fountain with Minerva.

Arthur took note of the cane leaning against the stone bench upon which Morgause and Minerva sat. Gaius had said the head trauma made it difficult for Morgause to keep her balance and it may never be cured. Arthur hoped that wasn’t so. She didn’t deserve to live with a daily reminder of the horrors Uther had visited upon her.

“I wager you derive your amusement from Arthur’s misery,” Minerva said, looking curious. This was one bit of information he didn’t want thrown up in Minerva’s face. “What are you teasing him about?”

“Nothing,” Morgan and Guinevere sang in harmony. They looked almost perfectly innocent save for the mischievous gleam in their dark eyes.

“What brings you here, Arthur? You’ve never shown an interest in flowers before,” Morgause asked, sensing Arthur’s distress.

“I’m just escorting the ladies to enjoy their company.”

“Arthur, that reminds me. Now that you’re king, may I use magic again? I have very strong Earth magic. I can make almost anything thrive in the garden.”

Arthur swallowed. Everyone’s eyes were on him now. Despite his regrets over the things he’d done to those who practiced magic, Arthur found he couldn’t easily overcome his fear of it. For hears his father had drilled it into him that magic was evil. Though he knew that wasn’t the case intellectually he was still hesitant to open that door.

“Well?” Morgan asked. She had begun to look impatient, hurt even.

“You may use it in the garden,” he conceded.

Morgan looked only slightly mollified. “Why not at all times?”

“Best not to rush back into everything at once,” Minerva advised. “Arthur needs time to adjust to his position as king. He needs time to learn to trust magic again.”

“I’m his sister. If he can’t trust me with magic, who can he trust?” Morgan reasoned.

“Her Majesty is right, Morgan. You have permission to use magic for your plants. Don’t insist on getting everything you want at once,” Morgause said. She didn’t just look like their mother, she sounded like her too.

“Come along,” Guinevere said. “I can’t wait to see all the flowers! May I pick a few for my bedchamber?”

Thankfully Morgan sulked only a little before continuing on with Guinevere deeper into the long rows of hanging flowers kept warm by many hearths around the room. Water was easily accessible from an underground spring. Arthur felt a surge of gratitude for all three women, but Guinevere especially. That was twice she’d been kind to him in as many weeks. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to start thinking she liked him.

*****

After days of meetings with Percival and Gawain, and several men who acted as temporary councilmen until Arthur could fully staff his own council, Arthur decided to take Sunday off rather than continue with meetings after church services. He relaxed in his study and read some of his favorite books for the day while snow fell in lazy flakes outside his window. The snow was a boring and monotonous sight now but it was appropriate for the celebration of Winter Solstice.

Arthur missed the sunshine of spring and the heat of summer. He missed riding in the cool of the forests and swimming in the many beautiful lakes of his kingdom. He longed to go fishing with Gawain and Percival and roasting their catch over an open grill. For now he was stuck in the castle trying to ward off the constant drafts of cold with raging hearth fires and beds laden with heavy fur blankets.

He considered adding the warm bodies of the many willing --  even eager -- maidservants who waited him but couldn’t bring himself to indulge. He really only wanted one woman to share his bed and he feared that there would never be any hope of winning her over if she knew he was diddling the maids.

There was a quiet knock at the door as Arthur prepared to dress for bed. So quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

“Come,” he said, expecting his man to enter with his evening mead. Instead Guinevere stepped into the room.

“Guinevere,” Arthur said, genuinely surprised to see her.

“Good evening,” she replied. She entered the room and looked around, her hands clasped firmly before her, but she didn’t say anything else or give reason for her visit.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Arthur prompted.

“I came to discuss the details of our…prior arrangement,” she said.

Arthur swallowed a little harder than he probably should. Guinevere noticed his discomfort and looked over at the bookshelves, suddenly very interested in them. Arthur had fully convinced himself that the entire encounter in Crandyn had been nothing more than a very vivid dream. Now he knew for certain it was real.

Guinevere moved around the bed, coming closer to him. Arthur, who had stripped down to his sleeping trousers, took a step back. He hoped it looked casual rather than cowardly.

“That bargain…it was made under different circumstances than what we’re in now.”

“How so? Mother and I are still your captives. You held up your end of the bargain. You kept mother safe from your father. Honestly, Arthur, I thought you’d come to speak to me about it sooner but you didn’t.”

“Why did you come to me, then? You could have pretended I’d forgotten,” he asked reasonably.

“I feel honor bound to uphold my part of the deals I strike regardless of what that might mean,” she explained.

Guinevere reached out and put one hand against his bare chest. Her fingers were slender and long, but also mildly calloused on the first two fingers from years of notching arrows and pulling bow strings taut.

Arthur nodded. “That’s honorable of you. Very noble.”

“I like to think so,” she smiled up at him. “Why don’t you sit down? You’re very tall over me.”

Arthur sat down on the bed and struggled to keep control of himself. He wanted nothing more than to pull Guinevere close and kiss her, to run his hands over the many curves of her body, but he kept his hands firmly clenched beside him.

“Guinevere…I…Uh…” He needed to say something but he wasn’t sure what. Blood was draining from his brain into his nether regions, making rational thought difficult. “Ruth…”

Guinevere frowned. “Ruth? Who is that?”

Arthur swallowed. His mind felt clouded by the generous amount of cleavage in his face. Guinevere’s nipples were hard and poking against the flimsy fabric of her sleeping gown, also distracting him. He realized he’d said the name of the last woman he’d bedded and knew he meant to offer Guinevere the same out as he’d offered Ruth. Unfortunately her name had slipped.

“Truth,” he said loudly. “The truth is I have changed my mind about the bargain.”

Guinevere stepped back, her frown deepening. “I’m sorry?”

Guinevere was only in his room, throwing herself at him, because they’d struck a deal, not because she wanted to be there with him. Arthur had never been able to enjoy sex with a woman who felt obligated to lie with him. They had to want to be there for it to be enjoyable to him.

No matter what he told himself the truth was Guinevere didn’t want to be there.

“You’re only here to fulfill some bargain that never should have been struck. I don’t force myself on anyone. If a woman doesn’t truly want to be with me she doesn’t have to.”

Guinevere tilted her head to the side, her eyes gleaming with…what? Confusion? Curiosity.

“You amaze me, Arthur Pendragon. I thought you to be completely without honor but you have proven me wrong every single day since you took the crown from Uther. You’re a family man. You’re fair -- kind even -- to your people. You’re nothing like the father you deposed.”

She stared at him with a look that would have utterly cowed most men.  Arthur wasn’t most men. He was better than them and not because he was a king or a warrior. He was better than them because he was a brave man, an honorable man.

“I release you from the terms of our agreement. In fact, I release you and your mother. I will send word to Thomas that as soon as the snow lets up and the road has been cleared enough for travel, I will personally escort you home. You’re free to go.”

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Arthur had willingly given up a chance to be with the only woman who had ever inspired feelings in him that were dangerously close to love.

She stepped closer to him. She put both of her hands in his hair brushed her lips against his. They remained that way for a long moment. Her breath was warm on his chin, his hands were firm, though slightly trembling, on her hips.

“You hold my life in your hands,” she whispered.

He tilted his head and looked into Guinevere’s eyes. “You hold my heart in yours.”

The kiss that followed was not soft and gentle. There was nothing romantic about it in the classical sense. It was hard and deep, all warm lips, tongue, and quickened breath. Arthur had barely been aware of lifting Guinevere from the floor. He had barely been aware of anything except the feel of her body against his.

Arthur’s hands sought to pull at her knickers only to find there were none there to inhibit him. He ripped the front of her bodice to free her breasts. They were full and beautiful, tipped with brown nipples that were fully erect.

Guinevere gasped when he ran his tongue over each of those nipples before lightly kissing the flat plane of her belly. He wanted to taste her, but Guinevere surprised him by pushing her hips off the bed and maneuvering him onto his back. With hands made clumsy by raw lust they managed to push his trousers down. Guinevere guided him into her and eased down on the hard length of his cock. A long, low moan rose from deep within her throat as she did. She threw her head back as she rode him, slowly at first but with more fervor. Arthur was overcome not only with the feel of his body in hers, but of just how strikingly beautiful she was.

He couldn’t imagine he’d ever thought she looked plain.

*****

Guinevere lay beside Arthur, her head on his shoulder and one long, beautifully muscled leg draped over his. The only light in the room was the slowly dying fire in the hearth across the room, which steadily grew cooler and made the sweat on their skin dry too quickly.

“I should put more wood on the fire,” Arthur said languidly.

“Yes, you should,” Guinevere replied, equally languorous.

Neither of them attempted to move until the room became uncomfortably cold. Arthur reluctantly left the bed and went to the hearth, putting in more logs and stoking the fire until it raged and illuminated the room with golden light. Guinevere’s eyes drank him in, and Arthur took in the sight of her with equal enthusiasm.

“Where did you learn to make love like that?” Arthur asked. “Who do I have to thank for your impressive abilities to satisfy a man?”

“Merlin,” Guinevere replied.

Arthur’s face fell. “Of course, Merlin. Who else could it be?”

“You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t really want the answers to,” Guinevere laughed.

“It surprises me that so many women throw themselves at that skinny little…”

Arthur’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t think of a vile enough word for the man who’d taught Guinevere the joys of sex and the art of making love so skillfully.

They shared a moment of silence in which Arthur contemplated that piece of advice. He decided he did want to know more, especially if Merlin and Guinevere were truly over.

“I thought Merlin was with Guinevak.”

“Guinevak is madly in love with Merlin but he doesn’t feel the same for her. He likes a serious, mature woman. I’m sure he could love her if she ever grew up. Guinevak is somewhat wild.”

“Feral is more the word I’d use to describe her,” Arthur said, thinking of how she’d tricked him into bedding her. Guinevere laughed.

“What broke the two of you up, then?”

“We were never really a couple. When Gwendolyn died he grieved for her as though he’d lost his very soul. Sometimes I think he did.”

Arthur swallowed. He’d led the raid that had taken Gwendolyn’s life. He’d led Gawain to that fateful battle and the actions that followed. Guinevere sensed Arthur’s discomfort and moved on.

“Anyway, I went to visit him, to comfort him, and things went too far. We had an affair that we kept quite secret.”

“For how long?”

Guinevere looked up at Arthur. “Are you jealous?”

“Well, yes,” he said, as though that should be obvious.

Guinevere’s laugh was like music in the quiet of the room. “Two years. It was all sex. Well, for me at least. I did care for Merlin. I could even have loved him had we been allowed to indulge in an open relationship. I knew if father ever found out he would have insisted I marry Merlin. He wouldn’t have his daughter dishonored.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Arthur said in sympathy. “Why didn’t you decide to marry Merlin?”

“I would have had to leave the Sisterhood of the Bow. My father is a wonderful man but he is helplessly traditional. He believes women should commit to their husbands once they marry. I would have had to train a replacement and then leave. I couldn’t bear to think of that. Besides, by then Guinevak had grown to maturity and she was mad about Merlin. I put an end to it and Merlin respected my wishes. He indulges Guinevak in bed but I think I hurt him deeply. I will always regret that.”

“How could he lose you and not be hurt?” Arthur said.

“I am only a woman, like any other,” she said humbly.

“No, Guinevere. You are unlike any other woman I have ever met.”

Guinevere sighed. “You are unlike any other man I have ever met.”

“It’s over between you and Merlin? Truly over?”

“Truly over, I give you my word,” she said. She kissed Arthur lightly and then started to leave the bed. Arthur pulled her close.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my room. Mother checks on me quite often to make sure neither you nor any other man seeks to dishonor me.”

He released her arm and lay back. “Please, Guinevere. Stay.”

Guinevere smiled and looked between him and the door. After a moment she tucked her legs under the blankets and cuddled up to Arthur. He held her close, silently grateful she would spend the night in his arms.

Outside the snow raged, and Arthur lamented the day it stopped and the road could be cleared. That would be the day he would have to return Guinevere to her father.

That would be the day his heart would break.

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