Summary: Arthur tries to disband the Order only for Gwen to step in...in true Guinevere fashion.

Arthur had reached his breaking point.

The enchanted geese. The honking boots. Gwaine still hiccuping like a goose whenever he laughed. It was all too much.

That morning, he stood in the council chamber, slamming his hand on the table. “Enough. The so-called Secret Goose Order is hereby dissolved. No more rituals, no more pranks, no more geese!”

The knights groaned dramatically. Gwaine clutched his chest. “You can’t kill the spirit of the Goose, sire!”

Merlin muttered under his breath, “You’ve been trying for months.”

Lancelot leaned in and whispered, “Just let him rant. It’ll pass.”

But Arthur wasn’t done. He scribbled furiously on a parchment. “Effective immediately, the Goose Order is outlawed. Anyone caught continuing its nonsense will face kitchen duty for a month!”

The knights gasped in horror. Even Leon looked stricken.

Arthur, satisfied, handed the parchment to Gwen. “See that this is posted, would you?”

Gwen read it once, then twice. Slowly, the corners of her mouth curved into the tiniest, most dangerous smile.

---

That evening, when Arthur entered the great hall, he froze.

Every knight was there, sitting perfectly in a row. Each wore a crown of goose feathers. Each had a loaf of bread on the table before them. And at the head of the hall—sitting on his throne—was Gwen, regal as ever, holding a golden goblet.

“Welcome, my king,” Gwen said sweetly, “to the first official meeting of the Royal Goose Order.”

Arthur sputtered. “The—what?!”

“You see,” Gwen continued innocently, “if it’s royal, then surely it isn’t against the law. You wouldn’t want to break your own decree, would you?”

The knights cheered. Merlin barely held back laughter. Gwaine toppled sideways out of his chair, wheezing.

Arthur rubbed his temples. “Guinevere… why?”

She smiled serenely. “Because it’s hilarious.”

---

Later that night, Arthur trudged back to his chambers, muttering darkly about bread crowns and goose rituals. Gwen was already in bed, pretending to read.

“You betrayed me,” he said flatly.

She hid a grin behind her book. “No, Arthur. I saved you.”

“How is encouraging this nonsense saving me?”

“Because,” she said, closing the book and turning out the lamp, “if you outlaw fun in Camelot, they’ll just find worse ways to amuse themselves. Trust me—it’s better this way.”

Arthur groaned into his pillow. “You’re all idiots.”

From the courtyard below came a faint but triumphant HONK.