King And Lionheart

Chapter 4- Guinevere

Guinevere-

I sat in the rickety hut, waiting for Oak and Cole to return with Arthur. Morgana sat, silent, reading.

“How can you bear to sit still?” I burst. I had been unable to rest for more than five minutes. My sister looked up, irritated.

“I’m sorry, Guinevere. Should I start jumping around too?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know!”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Then shush, Eve.”

I sat for a moment, then leapt up again as I heard a knock on the door. “It’s them!” I exclaimed.

There was a painfully slow second, and then a messy scruff of black hair appeared in the doorway.

“Cole!” I grinned. Cole walked into the room, followed by Oak and a boy with blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

“Sire!” I knelt before him. Oak and Cole did the same. “Morgana,” I hissed. Morgana raised her head and looked him in the eye.

“You’re Arthur Pendragon?” Morgana raised an eyebrow mockingly. “You?”

Arthur looked a little scared and confused. We stood. Oak and Cole smiled at Arthur.

“We’ll show you to your chambers. We’ll stay here for a week before we go to Camelot.”

“What are we doing here? Who are you?” Arthur demanded. I pursed my lips and glared at Oak.

“You haven’t told him?”

“Sorry!” Oak exclaimed. “But Cole wanted to get back as soon as possible!”

I rolled my eyes. “Arthur…” I debated how to explain. “The King is dead.”

“Yes…” Arthur said slowly. I took a deep breath.

“He had a son. Only… that son got lost. And he has to take the throne.”

“How many people know this? Why hasn’t he?”

“Because… we- Oak, Cole, Morgana and I, and now you- are the only people who know. And, well, we’re Lionhearts.”

Arthur frowned. He took a step back.

“But we want the rightful King, Arthur.” I looked up at him, thinking about how bright his eyes were, how his cheekbones slanted gracefully and even though an expression of worry marred his expression he was incredibly handsome. “You have to take your throne.”

“Me?” Arthur shook his head. “Who are you? I demand to… go home! This prank isn’t funny anymore. Never was.”

Cole, serious for once, shrugged. “It isn’t a prank, Arthur. It’s true. You have to take your throne. The fate of Camelot depends on you.”

“How could I be the King? I would know.”

“Arthur. Trust us. We will prove it once we make it to Camelot, but for now… we have to wait here for a bit. We’ve sent a message on to Camelot, to the knights who are guarding it at the moment.”

Arthur nodded slowly, earnestly.

“Do you believe us?” I asked gently. He thought for a moment, nodding again.

“Yes…” he said uncertainly. Then his voice became steady. “I guess I have to, don’t I.” It wasn’t a question but Morgana answered anyway.

“Yes,” she whispered, though silence fell as though she had shouted. She glanced at me. Her dark, curly hair, nothing like my blonde locks, fell carelessly around her shoulders. Burning blue eyes, questioning her own answer, were the only sign of her uncertainty.

“Then we wait a week,” Cole finished. “Then we go to Camelot, and you take your rightful place.”

“And you?” Arthur asked, curious.

“You honour them as knights,” Morgana said dully. Her voice was flat, her eyes glazed, as though she was reciting. “Sirs Oak and Cole. Except… that’s not their real names.”

“Then what are they?” Arthur said, fascinated. He didn’t notice Morgana’s strange behaviour.

“I am Bedivere,” Oak smiled briefly, a flash of white teeth. “And Cole is Lancelot.”