King Arthur Returns (Book #1 of the King Arthur Returns Trilogy)

Chapter Eleven

    The next day Arthur was acting mysteriously, I would have gone so far as to say that he was avoiding me. I just wasn't sure why. We hadn't slept together last night, I mean we had literally slept curled up like spoons just no sex. I'd been so intrigued about his strange extended life; he would have seen so much growth in human society. No wonder he had been so calm about learning all about this current world - he'd done it before. Intimacy was holding each other while telling someone about your true self, wasn't it? He'd shown interest in my life in return.

    'What of yer family? Yer parents?'

    'Well my mum and my aunts were a huge inspiration for me, they must be setting some record for qualified women belonging to the same family. They are all history nuts and are lucky enough to have made careers out of it. It was one of my great aunts that named me, actually, after Ela of Salisbury.' Which was why my spelling was funky and would never be found on a mug or novelty keychain. 

    Tracing the many tiny scars on his hands I spoke again, 'I have an older brother who I actually like. He kind of looks like the actor who plays King Charles II in Horrible Histories.' I'd made them watch five series of the show as a crash course in British history. 'I have best friends who are basically family, like Tristram and Branok are for you. They're supportive and hilarious and kind but badass and awesome. I'm pretty sure Amelia could kick your arse.'

    'Nay?'

    'Aye, with her bare hands too.' Savannah probably could as well, but she'd need a valid reason. Amelia would do it just for fun.

    We'd laughed and shared more before falling asleep, cocooning under the covers with each other. And yet he'd run away after sharing all that with me. Unsure what to make of it, I figured it would sort itself out or he'd hide with Tristram and Branok in a tent and I'd eat an awful lot of chocolate.

    But Arthur didn't choose to sleep in the tent outside that next night, he followed me up to bed. As I sat on the mattress he didn't join me on it, instead kneeling in front of me.

    'I know ye want different things to those I was brought up to want. Ye do nawt want marriage. Ye've assured me we don't need to even after all we've done here.' He nodded to the bed I sat on. And dammit I would not blush about it. 'I cannawt give ye much-'

    'Just one lifetime, after all?' Even during what I suspected was a declaration of love I couldn't resist interrupting or teasing. 

    'Aye, the one lifetime. One in which I'll never go against what ye've taught me, a life I will gladly spend being bewitched by ye and treasuring ye. I'd give every second of this, my final life, to ye, Ela. I love ye.'

    Strangely it seemed I might cry, my eyes were suddenly watery, but at the same time there was a bubble of laughter in my throat too.

    'I hoped you did. This is all new for me, curses and ancient knights, obviously. But also,' deep breath, 'I love you too, Arthur Pendragon. King of Camelot.' I wasn't sure if it was his ridiculous identity or that we were in love that made me giddy. He swung me up in his arms and I clung to those shoulders attached of the man that I loved every inch and all the long history of. He let my feet drop to the ground again before laying a long kiss on me. Not long enough, mind. Breaking away from me, he instead trailed his hand down my right arm, the one without traces of a curse written along it. Reaching to pull something from his back pocket I felt metal against my wrist. Warmed by his heat, my first reaction was to be thankful his gift wasn't freezing. Next was awe as I saw what he'd hooked over my wrist - a twisted metal band, matching the style of his set, only smaller to fit me.

    Then I noticed he only had one band on.

    'This is yours? Arthur...' I was speechless.

    ''Twas from my first life, a life before ye. I do nawt want a life after ye.' 

    I was wearing something made in the Iron Age. A one thousand, five hundred year old piece and he'd made it into a gift for me. I fingered the metal band, older than anything I'd touched before meeting the treasured man in front of me.

    'My family is going to freak when they meet you.'

    I didn't know how we were going to make this work; he was so ancient he didn't have any form of identification, had a very odd skill set to make a living from, and I only had limited time left in this country. But I loved him. And he loved me. So we'd somehow stumble on a way to make this work, the same way I'd stumbled on his cursed grave and brought him back to life.