Chivalry ♛ King Arthur

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IT was the morning of the coronation. Camelot had been filled with people from near and far. All had come to witness the rise of the Born King. They were celebrating and creating tall tales to be passed on for generations about how King Arthur slew the despot Vortigern and reclaimed his father's throne. Frida had joined them the prior evening, hearing some of the stories being told around fires for herself.

Bedivere, Goosefat, George, Percival, and Wet Stick had gathered in the room of the Round Table, which was still a work of progress. Bedivere had knighted them all as official members of King Arthur's court. Frida only wished that Back Lack could be with them to share in the celebration.

It was Art who knelt now and William who held Excalibur. Goosefat stood straight and repeated the rite that the others had received, moving the sword from his left to right shoulder. "Arise," Bill began with a faint smirk, "King Arthur."

Frida smiled at the ceremony. She sat on the roundtable, bare feet peeking out from beneath a finely crafted burgundy dress. It suited her dark hair and fair skin. "Sir William," Arthur gestured toward Frida and the wide smile that she had worn faded.

She looked on wide-eyed and unsure but stood with a shaky breath. "Take a knee," Goosefat bade. Frida sank down to the floor and clasped her hands together at the pewter belt around her waist. William rested the sword, Excalibur, on her left shoulder and then moved it to the right.

A lump formed in her throat, but when she glanced past Bill to Arthur, it faded. "I dub thee Lady Frida," he decreed to the small gathering, "rise, my lady." Arthur came forward and took both her hands bringing her back to her feet. Unable to contain his glee, he lifted her by the waist and spun the both of them around.

Frida gave a breathy laugh as he pressed his forehead against hers. She had never dreamed that it would come to this. That she would grow to love the Born King of England. But with his roguish smile and unpolished appearance, he was still Arthur the street rat, whom she had always loved.

The doors of the overlook opened. It was time.

Blue bore the crown on a white pillow. Following him were the girls from the brothel. All now wore delicate gowns of soft material with intricate beading and patterns, the necklines trimmed in various furs. He had made sure to take care of the women who had helped raise him, he always had.

Arthur took Frida's arm and led her to the overlook. From the highpoint of the castle, she could see for miles, though what stole her attention was the number of people that had gathered. It hadn't seemed like so many when she was amongst them. She took in a deep breath and stepped aside, joining Maggie and Clarisse.

Bedivere took the crown into his hands and raised it high above Art's head for all to see before placing it on his brow. Arthur took and lifted the sword, Excalibur, above his head and the kingdom of Camelot roared to life.

♛ ♛ ♛

In the reception hall was a man, grey of hair and beard, leaning heavily on a twisted sapling. He wore drab-colored robes that blended into the pale stone columns and walls. The man must have been a vagabond, for his clothes were stained and ragged.

Ida had come from the kitchens with a basket of warm dinner rolls in her arms. She was to meet Arthur in the gardens at midday. "Frida," the man remarked, catching her attention as she passed by.

She stopped in her tracks and turned, taking notice of the unannounced visitor and his homely appearance. "May I ask your name, sir?" Frida asked, remembering her courtesies. Edwyn had not raised her to be judging of appearances.

The old man stooped down in genuflection and when he rose, he leaned more heavily against the staff. "Myrddin, some call me, others cambion but you, my dearest," the stranger paused and gave a warm smile, "may call me Merlin."