Wizard's Wish - (Kinda) Yandere SGE x reader

Chapter 72: Apologies and Confessions

(Now we're getting into the war. I'm so excited to finally get to write this part of the story ahhh!)

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Y/n knew they were all doomed when Tedros tried to convince Lancelot to stay behind with his mother. Tedros knew as well as Y/n did that they needed the knight to join their army in the war to come. So for him to beg Lancelot to remain at the house meant Tedros knew they were all going to die. For as much as the prince despised the scalawag knight, he couldn't bear the thought of his mother losing him.
Not that his wishes mattered in the end. Guinevere wouldn't hear of it.
She said the goodbye to Lancelot out on the moonlit moors, just as she did with the rest of her guests, taking the time to give brisk hugs to each, as if they were all popping off to a shop and wouldn't be back by lunch.

It was only when Guinevere hugged Agatha and Y/n that the old queen lingered. Y/n could see her lips trembling and the wet sheen of her eyes.
"Take care of my Tedros," Guinevere whispered.
"I will," said Y/n, trying not to cry.
Something cold touched her head and Y/n looked up at her prince as he fit her crown back on her.
"You left it in your room," he said, with a droll smile. "An oversight, I'm sure."
Then he met his mother's gaze.

Y/n could see each of them overwhelmed with emotion... a mother and son who'd battled so much pain to come back together, only to be pulled apart once more.
"Let me come with you, Tedros. Please," Guinevere pleaded. "I can fight– we'll be together–"
"No," said the prince. "It's the one thing Lancelot and I agree on."
Guinevere shook her head, tears falling.
Tedros hugged her to his chest. "Listen to me. You'll be at Camelot for my coronation. Once I, Y/n, and Agatha close our storybook and the School Master is dead. That's where your story will end, all right? Not here, but Camelot, where you'll be a mother... then a grandmother... and you'll have so much love for the rest of your life... You can even bring the ogre.
Guinevere sniffled a laugh. "Promise me, Tedros. Promise me you'll come back."
"I promise," Tedros rasped.
But Y/n knew he was lying.

Guinevere spotted something over her son's shoulder and pulled away.
Y/n, Agatha, and Tedros turned to see Merlin leading his League of heroes, you and old, towards a floating portal of white glow atop a distant hill.
Lancelot climbed through first, evaporating like a shadow into the sun, before the old and new heroes followed him into the light, one by one... until only Merlin was left, raising consoling eyes to the three young adults across the moors, as if he wished he could let them stay.

-

"Has to be morning by now surely," said Tedros to Y/n and Agatha, peering through the darkness of the Woods, as they tried to keep up with the rest in front of them.
"Then where's the sun?" Agatha asked, searching the horizon of fast-moving black clouds with a pinprick of light pulsing through it. "All I see is the North Star and storm clouds..."
"It's not clouds..." Y/n realized as she looked closer. It was smoke, emanating from somewhere far ahead, directly in the path of where Merlin was leading their army. Huddled into a black cloak, Y/n stood on tiptoes, squinting over the pairs in front of her, but she couldn't see where the smoke was coming from.

"You two," she nudged Tedros and Agatha. "Lift me up."
"What?" Agatha said.
"Just do it."
Tedros frowned. "Just because you're wearing a crown doesn't mean–"
"Now."
The prince sighed. "And I thought Sophie was high maintenance."
The two swung Y/n up on their shoulders, swaying side to side a bit but managing to stand up as they held Y/n's ankles. She could see Hort and Peter Pan paired in front of them and hear Cinderella and Pinocchio a ways behind, trading jokes at the sight of them.
"Someone's whipped," said Pinocchio.
"Finally as tall as his father," Cinderella groused.
Tedros gritted his teeth. "I'm not that short..." he mumbled.

"How much longer do you need up there?" Agatha asked.
Y/n leaned forward a bit, the lattice of tree branches brushing against her crown, as she gazed far into the darkness, tracking the smoke.
It was coming from a fire.
Far into the black horizon, a tall tower of yellow-red flames raged into the sky. As the blaze licked higher and higher, it lit up the surroundings: a crooked clock tower, the shops of a square, turreted cottage rooftops, and the rest of a crystal-clear village, glowing in the flame light beneath a tattered shield...
Gavaldon.
Gavaldon was on fire.