[2] WEEPING MONK║you're not what I was looking for

67| The Eve of War - 𝐈𝐈

[CW/ Threatening language]

Ari's army reaches the White Hart fields of Avalon. Lancelot finally makes a bold confession.

The watch was about to head back to the base camp and swap with the next set of scouts, when Nyra lifted her head. She'd been silently waiting and watching like the group for all this time but now her hackles were raised as she growled towards the far forest on the horizon.

Her reaction had Lancelot by her side in an instant. The whole group turning tail and gathering in.

Ari strained to see across the landscape once more. There wasn't much to see through the thin layer of fog. She could only make out a flicker of light like a torch and shadows shifting.

"Riders," Lancelot said lowly. "A dozen of them."

Ice curled down Ari's spine. Why would a group so small be so obvious in approaching?

Henry arched a brow, adding, "They aren't very good spies." Which is what Ari was thinking.

"They are not spying," Lancelot replied mildly, his gaze shifting over towards Ari. "They want to talk."

She inhaled a slow drag of bitter forest air. There'd been every chance of a negotiation happening, though she hadn't thought much if it. And certainly not tonight. The enemies of her people had never held themselves back before now.

The riders had broken from the opposite tree-line on the horizon and were trekking across the open lands, albeit slowly. There was too little light and too much grey haze to the air to determine what colours they wore. Red or blue. Either way, they were going to end their ride here if Ari didn't move.

"We ride out," she said, thinking it better to keep them from getting much closer, "match their numbers."

Messengers arrived in haste from the other watch stations, Fawns who bounded faster than any other Fae, at the same time as the scouts who'd come to relieve Ari's group reached their position. With the other watch stations ordered to stand down and stay put, they gathered their horses with the new arrivals and rode out. A dozen to match whoever deemed darkness necessary to cross the open land.

The two convoys met halfway in the field of low grass which— come tomorrow— would decide which crown claimed victory. Ari wasn't amused by who it was that they found.

"Does your red keeper know that you are here?" she said, her horse halting head on to King Uther's.

"Queen Arianne Sunborn." Uther looked her over, lit only by a few torches on each side of this standstill. He looked almost inspired by what he saw. "I see that you now wear a crown."

The ways in which some men tried to grapple for dominance had often baffled Ari. The thin band of gold upon Uther's raven head didn't shine in the moonlight. He'd had the gall to comment on her own lack there of, before.