Chivalry ♛ King Arthur

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CARADOC woke early on the morning of the fourth day when a drop of dew slipped off a leaf and onto his cheek.

Frida had been with Merlin for three days and three nights. Taken to a land beyond the forest clearing. He stoked the small fire by his bedroll, sparks flew upward and a flame jumped into the air. A drop of grease from the night's rabbit had begun to crackle on a hot stone.

The Dragon Prince rose to his feet and began tending to the horses. From the corner of his eye, he saw it. In the center of clearing ringed with ash trees, there was a budding light. A speck that quickly expanded in all directions, growing brighter. Caradoc shielded his eyes and felt the wave of air hit him in the chest before the thunderous eruption shook the earth and trees.

Frida lay in a circle of burned and smoking grass. "My lady!" Caradoc knelt at her side, searching for the Wizard but found it was only the two of them. He touched her cheek, fearful that she would not respond. Slowly, her eyes, the same color of freshly turned soil, opened. Her traveling companion gave a relieved sigh. "Are you all right?"

She sat up under her own volition and brushed the soot and ash from her hands. "Yes," Ida replied, gaze turning upward to find a grey sky hanging above.

Caradoc pulled her off the ground and steadied her shoulders with both his hands. There was a distant and cold look in her eyes that hadn't been there before. It was disconcerting to see the hollowness of her usual kind and vibrant expression.

"If you are willing to ride, we may return before sundown." She nodded. He saddled both their horses and lifted Frida onto the saddle of her white palfrey.

It was well past noon when Ida began to wobble in her saddle and not long after that Caradoc had caught her before she collided with the ground. He eased her to the ground. A sheen of sweat had beaded up on her brow, yet she shivered even in the warm afternoon.

She didn't want to open her eyes. All Ida wanted was a soft, warm bed. The journey she had taken with Merlin was a long and strenuous one. "You are tired," Caradoc told her, his hand resting on her forehead, "and fevered."

Frida did not object to the short pause in their travels, though she was eager to return to Camelot, and to Art. "I can make it," she assured him, forcing herself to stand. The Dragon Prince tied her white palfrey behind his black destrier and lifted Ida into his saddle before mounting behind her. He couldn't have her sliding off a horse and splitting her head open like a melon.

The two returned alone at sundown on the fourth day of the quest. The portcullis lifted at their approach. Few people lined the streets of the lower city at this hour. Most were within taverns or their own homes. It made the trip through the winding roads leading to the castle gates quicker.

Arthur, Wet Stick, and Blue sat around the table pushed to the side in the main hall mulling over bowls of steaming beef stew. It had dawned on all three of them that everything was rather dull without Frida. She managed to breathe warmth and life into the cold, stone walls.

Blue had only just asked a question about when she'd be back when the oak and stone doors swung open. Caradoc strode forward cradling Ida in his arms. Arthur rose to his feet instantly and was moving toward her. "She needs rest," Caradoc told the King while placing her within his arms.

Art tilted his head in the direction of the table. "There's plenty of stew left." Caradoc gave a grateful nod and took a seat on the bench opposite of Tristan. Arthur was already gone.

Helga, the eldest girl of the orphaned children who had asked to be Frida's lady in waiting, was tidying up Ida's vanity and filling a half-full vial of rose water. The suddenness of the chamber doors being thrown open started her. "M'lord!" She immediately took to the King's side, sputtering on about what she could do to help.

Art looked over his shoulder at the girl as he laid Frida on the bed. "It's all right, Helga," he told her with a soft smile that soothed her worries, "I can look after her."

She lowered her head and nodded. "Yes, m'lord," Helga smoothed down her skirt with trembling hands and quickly left the room. Arthur sank to his knees next to the feather mattress and gave a heavy sigh. Somehow, it felt like this was his fault. Frida hadn't wanted to go with Merlin, but he had pressured her.

He ran his hand down his face and rose from the floor to fetch a washbasin and cloth. She was travel worn with dirt under neatly trimmed nails and speckling her pale face. Art knew Frida was not one to enjoy being caked in sweat and nature. Though she didn't mind being covered in flour and sugar.

Arthur pulled one of his tunics free from a tangled mess of clothes in a half-closed drawer. He sat it on the nightstand and began to unlace the bodice of her dress. The pale blue material piled on the floor next to her riding shoes. Once on, the shirt hung to her knees. Had he known how to braid, he would've fixed her hair to pass the time.

Evening became night. Blue had come to check on her, so did Wet Stick and Caradoc. He told them she was resting, and her fever was beginning to break. There was no need to fret over her. She was strong.

Arthur didn't sleep. He couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept in four days. Pulling a blanket from the bed, Art wrapped it around his shoulders and sat on the short balcony overlooking his kingdom. The moon did not shine, but the stars did, like small white gems gleaming on a dark canvas.

A soft groan as the sun broke over the horizon stirred him from a restless trance. He almost tripped over his own feet in haste to return to Frida's side. She was stirring, close to waking. Ida rolled toward him and opened one of her eyes. Art smiled and brushed the hair from her face. "Hey, darlin'." He lifted one of her hands and kissed the back of it. "Are you all right?"

Frida nodded and the words on her tongue were stalled by the abrupt sound of her growling stomach. She hadn't eaten while she was with Merlin. She didn't need to. Arthur broke out into a smile and leaned forward, giving her forehead a quick kiss. "I'll be back."

There was something different about Frida that he noticed immediately like she had recognized and accepted the full extent of her arcane power. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

She took a large bite from a warm piece of sourdough bread and looked up. "I wasn't looking for anything to begin with, Art," she reminded him. Ida turned her right palm up and let a dancing lilac flame coalesce and from the fire emerged a gem. White and shining, like it had captured pure starlight. She plucked the gem from her hand and passed it to him.

After a moment of inspection, she let it turn to dust within his palm. Arthur looked up from the shining dust and let it fall to the floor. The easy of the transformation had taken him off-guard. "But I have gained more control."

Arthur was glad to know she had garnered more confidence in her abilities. "How did the trade council go?" She asked, taking another forkful of scrambled eggs.

He shook his head and finished buttering the slice of bread he had. "I'll tell you about it later." There wasn't much to say about it. The leaders agreed to continue free trade without obstruction, it was the best path to ensure everyone prospered. She pushed the empty plate away and ate the last bite of bread. "You're still tired," Art noted.

"So are you," she challenged. He found there was no use in trying to prove her wrong. 

The sun may have risen, but Arthur and Frida were returning to bed.