Gwynnever - Queen of Camelot

PROLOGUE

Leodegrance, Britannia 406 a.c.

A young man was grinding forward in the middle of a battle field. He was covered in blood and his breath was heavy. The sun was peeking from the hills and the sky was starting to stain of the same color as the ground.

The sword in his hand was slippery, but he didn't let go of it. He couldn't or he'll die. It was the greatest treasure he owned, given to him by the spirit of Camelot itself. Forged with the iron of its deepest caves and the fire of the last dragon. Excalibur, they called it and it was Arthur's heart and soul.

It never betrayed him or failed. It always struck and killed. Always.

"Sire!" Someone screamed from the other side of the glade, waving a hand. Percival moved towards him as the king jumped over a pile of dead bodies. The ground was covered of it.

"Percival?" it came out like a question, when indeed was just an exclamation. Arthur was exhausted but he couldn't stop. If he did, he would have lost and he was so close by now.

"Sire, we managed to take out the last rioters. It's all clear. We won."

"Any survivors?" he asked, his heart ached when the knight shook his head in negative response. "The king?" he inquired, twirling his sword before sliding it in its sheath like he did million times before.

"We found him! He was in the... was sited in his throne...." Gawain lowered his eyes before taking a deep breath to add "Beheaded."

I guess there was no point asking more questions. "Get the bodies, we are going to bury them before returning to Camelot." At this exclamation, the Knights turned their heads to him in surprise.

"All of them, sire?" Arthur noded and with his men, he started compelling his own order.

Arthur tried to keep his mind busy, thinking about practical things, like who was to be the heir to that territory now that king Gogrfan the Great was dead. He heard stories about two children but Gogrfan was never one to enjoy social gathering and liked to keep private all aspects of his ruling. Arthur came to know of what was going on, only because some of the people that had escaped the siege, turned to Camelot and to him, for help.

He didn't think twice. He never did when it came to help others nor did his men. There was something off in this battle though. No one seemed to be in charge. It looked like those soldiers found themselves here by accident and decided to attack anything on their way. They even attacked each other.

He still wondered who was behind all of this when Percival came forward, communicating that all the body were successfully buried and that they were ready to head home. Arthur exhaled in relief and took a final look at the field, the castle still fuming in the background. He thought what would be like, if it was Camelot that burned down and felt a little sting at the back of his eyes. He cared so deep for his land that would have ripped his own heart and given to anyone in order to save it. His people, the ones who were there when he grew up, the ones who always offered him freshly baked scones and a warm place to stay when he patrolled. He owed to them, to their kindness to protect them with anything he had, and he did.

He never married, not because his country didn't want, but because he didn't had time to go look for a bride. But now, with the wars between kingdoms to prevail on each other, racing to bore heirs, to ensure a future to their legacy. He felt the pressure and thought about it, 26 wasn't a bad age to settle down.

If only it wasn't so hard to find a woman that actually listened to him, paid mind to his troubles and wasn't so attracted by his wealth and title. He tried when he first became king to look for a queen, but every single one of the girls he saw or talked to, even though very well-bred, they would just go by two phrases and he wouldn't want to spend the rest of his life listening to 'Yes, my lord' and 'No, my lord.' He wanted someone strong, someone that was ready to rule if something bad happened to him. So that when the time came, he'll go peacefully.

And yes, he wanted to be loved a little. Having escaped that feeling his whole life with a father that treated him just like his student and never met his own mother who died giving birth to him.

If only she would jump out of a wood or something. So that he won't need searching anymore.

Fate was a curious thing, you see. Because someone did jump out of the woods knocking the king off of his horse. Arthur winced, his eyes wide open at the aggressor, dressed in black leather with a hood so low it only showed a perfectly shaped pair of lips, the same shade as red wine freshly brewed.

The Knights all dismounted at the same time like it was a choreographed dance move and they all were around the intruder before they could blink.