chapter fifteen!
015. noble at heart

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  A FEAST WAS held in Sir Lancelot's honour. Not as grand as most banquets this citadel held, but while it was modest in many ways, it stood out in others. Odette▬for the first time in her life▬was not here to serve platters and pour wine. She could pick fruit off a platter at her own pleasure, try a sip of wine at Morgana's encouragement and scrunch her nose up at the way it tasted on her tongue. She could spend time with her mistress and Guinevere as a guest▬as of Lancelot's request, and she's never been so excited and delighted.

Odette might not be wearing something extravagant. She might not have gorgeous silks and pretty embroidered slippers. But she let her hair down for the occasion so it swept in golden waves down her back, braiding it back off her face in many elaborate loops▬a style she's often done on Morgana, but finally got the chance to wear it for herself. Morgana even lended her a hair piece▬modest, but beautiful to clasp her braids together at the crown, and Odette felt truly beautiful.

"I do love this so," said Morgana, linking her arm with Odette's as she guided her and Gwen past the platters presented on a long table. Apples, cherries, exotic figs and all of Odette's favourite berries. They had pork, lamb, pheasant and such brilliant stew that actually looked edible. Odette couldn't even name all the cheeses she saw! "Being able to attend tonight with my dearest friends not as my servants but as guests."

The King's Ward smiled and nudged Odette who was only half paying attention, too busy ogling the food. "We must thank Sir Lancelot for his kindness▬you must make friends with knights more often, Odette."

"Yes," she said off-handedly, trying to figure out the spices sprinkled upon an entire stuffed chicken.

Morgana laughed. "My, you act as if you've never attended a feast before!"

"Not like this we haven't," gushed Gwen, looking beautiful in her sweet, modest way. She had twisted her hair back with a few flowers. "It feels rather strange not to hold a jug in my hand."

"I'm afraid it isn't something we can do most of the time," sighed Morgana, waving to one of the younger ladies of the court she often walked the gardens with. "No matter the many times I try to persuade Uther▬" she dropped her voice to a whisper as she glanced briefly at the King who was sitting in his chair at the head of the hall, "▬I heard Lancelot brought his request to Arthur and somehow, he managed to grant it without much word to his stubborn father."

Odette's brows lifted, surprised. She glanced over her shoulder where Arthur sat with Lancelot, the two of them laughing and enjoying some mead with one another. He belonged▬fit in perfectly amongst the rest of the knights, and yet he stood out on top of them all.

Morgana arched a brow and she smirked, playful. "Though," she said with a knowing glance at Gwen, "I say Lancelot must've placed a very good word in for you, Odette."

Her heart piqued and she spun back, eyes bright and hopeful. "He did?"

Her friend chuckled. "You are as easy to read as my favourite book, dear Odette." Morgana sweetly fixed the head piece she had given her youngest maid, rather protective of her. "I daresay Lancelot will never gaze upon someone as beautiful as you are, tonight, I've made sure of it."

Odette blushed. She thought herself beautiful tonight, but in comparison to Morgana beside her, she knew she did not stand out. But either way, she brushed down the skirts of her best dress; a blue tunic she tied tight with the strings at her back. Odette only had a few dresses, and she rarely wore this one▬only for special occasions ever since Gwen made her it a few years ago. It was still hemmed a bit long for someone her age, but not so much it was inappropriate. She liked it for that reason, it made Odette feel mature and pretty.

"You both look beautiful," added Morgana, smiling at Gwen who rolled her eyes, but thanked her for the compliment nonetheless.

The blacksmith's daughter stopped, however, when she caught the eye of someone else across the room. Her chest seemed to tighten to notice he had already been looking at her▬out of every noblewoman, everybody more desirable, Lord Ronyn focused purely on Guinevere Smith. She took a deep breath, trying very hard not to let her bitter feelings rise▬the ones that made her heart race and her cheeks flush with anger; so frustrated that she could barely breathe▬, eyeing the way he set his jaw. He gazed at her like she was saddening; remorseful and filled with guilt, and for a moment, Guinevere almost felt bad for how she had walked off the other day.

But when she looked away, the feelings went disappeared. Ronyn adverted his gaze, too, swallowing harshly and resisting the urge to walk over there and tell her he was sorry▬actually sorry. And it startled him and confused him, for he knew it would not bode well for himself or her if he was to, and yet, part of him didn't care▬a part so desperate to prove to Gwen that he wasn't the man she thought him to be.

He couldn't begin to understand why she could hold that power over any other individual who has tried before. The only one that he seemed to find himself listening to other than Arthur and it scared him.

Ronyn had to turn away. He engaged in conversation with his mother, choosing to ignore Guinevere for the rest of the night.

"Here▬" Morgana dragged Odette and Gwen to the far end of the table where they distributed the fruit, "▬take some strawberries before Arthur finds them and they disappear."

"Strawberries," murmured Odette with interest and awkwardly reached out to take the largest one on the platter. She's never tasted strawberries before. They weren't a food a servant such as her came by often.

As she did, Morgana held out their goblets to a passing servant who filled them up again with wine. Odette was glad she wasn't apart of the court, for she was sure just this taste of the splendours would make her envious of people she, Gwen and Morgana often scoffed at in her bedchambers. Or maybe, she'll end up stealing food off platters like Merlin did.

Odette eyed the strawberry before feebly taking a bite off the edge. Immediately, she had to take another▬and when the taste reached her tongue, she was amazed. "God in heaven," she blessed, enamoured. She heard Morgana laugh as she reached for another, and another▬taking as many as she dared and placing them on the plate Morgana had for the three of them.

"My," Morgana chuckled with Gwen, "I shouldn't be worried about Arthur taking the strawberries, I think I should be worried about you."

"I've never tasted something so wonderful," gushed Odette, her hand covering her mouth as she spoke with another strawberry in her mouth. "They're▬they're so sweet and▬and▬wonderful..."

"Just wait until you try the other berries," whispered Guinevere and Odette's interest was immediately piqued. She nodded to Gwen and her friend quickly rushed with the plate to gather some more. The two servants were going to make the most of their taste of noble life before they went back to serving it in the morning.

As Morgana rolled her eyes and dragged Odette to rush after Gwen, the three girls giggling under their breaths and having quite the time of their lives, their cheeky endeavours brought the attention of Arthur from the table he sat upon. He rolled his eyes, not surprised and nudged Lancelot who looked up from his cup, confused.

"Here's trouble," muttered Arthur, nodding pointedly to Morgana who picked a grape from the crowded fruit plate Guinevere had gathered. She was wearing the dress she knew made others watch her▬and Arthur was not immune to it. The deep red silk draped down past her ankles and covered little of her shoulders and arms; a scandalous garb, indeed, but a gorgeous one.

He sighed, shoulders falling a little as he bit back any insult he held and just took a moment to admire Morgana's long, dark hair and snow-white features. He glanced at Lancelot who had followed his gaze. Arthur shuffled on the table▬he didn't remember when he stopped sitting on the bench and decided the top of the table was a better decision. "Tell me," he nodded to his new knight who met his gaze, bright-eyed and naive▬and yet a brilliant swordsman; Arthur was glad he made it through, "do you think her ..." he gestured subtly to Morgana, "... beautiful?"

Lancelot's gaze▬however▬wandered from the King's Ward and instead onto the girl at her side, sneaking another strawberry from the table after finishing all the ones she had on the plate. He couldn't take his gaze off her▬no noblewoman, no princess, not even a queen could compare to Odette. She was more than beautiful, she was stunning. She glowed when she smiled, brightened and warmed his soul like he was standing in a field before a sunrise. Her hair rolling down like golden hills past her shoulders, her gorgeous blue dress, her smile▬her smile ...

And he could not lie. "Yes," he said, gaze fixed on the youngest handmaiden of the King's Ward. "Yes, Sire, I very much do."

It didn't take long for Arthur to realise Lancelot wasn't speaking of Morgana. He frowned at him until he saw. He watched his new knight gaze upon his old friend like he was seeing something breathtaking. Something churned in Arthur's stomach▬he grew annoyed. As a knight, no matter his feelings, Lancelot could never consort with someone like Odette, and knowing her, she would fall for him and be left there, disappointed when he couldn't return her loyalty.

Arthur quickly took a sip of his drink, fingers clenched at the hilt. He told himself to bite his tongue, that he didn't care▬but he did care. He always cared about her wellbeing.

So, he made a face and said to Lancelot, "Really? Odette?"

Lancelot spun to him, eyes wide as he was caught. "What?"

Arthur pointed his mead to the handmaiden. No matter how protective he might find himself obligated to be towards her, she was still being absolutely ridiculous with those strawberries. (And might eat them all if he didn't grab some soon▬she was infuriating). "Morgana's handmaiden," he tried to sound very objective.

His new knight grew red at the cheeks. "You do not approve of Odette?"

The Prince scoffed down the bitter twist in his chest. "I knew her when we were young. She grew up here▬and by the Lord was she the most annoying thing ever. Always followed me around, could never get rid of her."

Lancelot frowned at him. His gaze returned to Odette who left Gwen and Morgana to rush over to Merlin, showing him her goblet of wine. He toasted it with his own tankard. "I've come to know her to be quite lovely. Sweet, kind, considerate▬her smile lights up a room."

Arthur clenched his jaw. He watched Odette, too, and noticed Morgana's head-piece in her hair▬it was finally out of that damned twist. He knew she was kind, and she was sweet and she was considerate. Arthur knew her smile was bright and endearing; that it lit up whatever room she'd be in if someone just took the time to notice her.

But none of that mattered. She was a servant. Lancelot couldn't court a servant.

"Find her such, you may," said Arthur bluntly. "But she's a handmaiden, and you are a knight▬It can never be."

He felt those words himself. Perhaps not in the same way, but he felt them. His blunt tone became rather sad, knowing that he could not walk over and greet her a good evening. That he could not admit the admiration he held for her▬Lancelot didn't know Odette like he did; he couldn't find pride in knowing she was still standing here after what she went through. He couldn't know the need to make sure she was okay. But he could admit it. Maybe that's why Arthur grew so disgruntled▬so infuriated by the sight of her half of the time, and yet so saddened.

The young girl of both their gazes chuckled as Merlin took a swig from his drink. She shook her head at him, "You're going to be remorseful tomorrow morning."

"Odette," he chided and she chuckled again, sipping her own wine and making a face yet again at the strong taste. "You're as bad as Gaius▬let me celebrate with a drink in my hand over our dear friend Sir Knight Lancelot. Our hard work has paid off, so take a moment to live tonight."

"Excuse you," said Odette through her laughter, "I have taken a moment. I did my hair, I've eaten▬I daresay, between you and me▬half of the strawberries on those platters▬have you ever had a strawberry? They're delicious! Oh, I would entrap a nobleman in marriage just to have strawberries every day."

"Well," Merlin shrugged, eyebrows rising very high, "you may have hope there, yet, Odette▬for you know what? I think our Sir Lancelot might have eyes for you."

Immediately, she blushed. Odette tried to deny it▬while it was hard for her to hide such things from Morgana who knew her very well, she turned shy at the mere mention of such things. She turned her goblet in her fingers, staring at the red drink inside, "Don't be silly," she mumbled.

Merlin chuckled, shaking his head at her bashfulness, "So what if he did? Would that really be so bad?"

"He's not my type," quickly lied Odette.

Merlin nodded, letting out a long 'ah' in his understanding▬though it was very sarcastic. "Of course, I forget▬you like our noble, honourable save the world men▬oh wait, that is Lancelot. Dear me, you are muddled from that wine."

Odette guffawed at him. She swiftly kicked him in the shins and he doubled over slightly. "Merlin!"

"You are a menace!" grumbled her friend, massaging the place her foot had struck. "What are your toes made of▬iron?"

"Besides," she continued their conversation with little care of his complaints, "now that Lancelot is a knight he cannot be seen with me▬let alone court me."

Merlin's eyes widened, "So you do like him!"

She smacked him in the arm. He swiped her hand away. "Keep your voice down. But either way, it cannot be."

He sighed▬and, in telling the slight down-trodden to her features, Merlin decided to turn the conversation around. He shuffled in close to her so he could stand over her shoulder, the movement something rather natural. "How about▬just for the sake of argument▬if you had to, like really, really had to, if they were the only bachelors left on this earth, who would you pick: Arthur▬" he nodded at the Prince, "▬or Lancelot?"

Odette appreciated him turning this into a joking manner, and she found herself laughing at him▬her chest growing light and her mind wandering over many ridiculous scenarios at the very thought of having to choose between either of them. Knowing what Merlin was doing, Odette played along, being difficult just for the sake of it: "Ah, yes, you make a very good consideration of a estranged situation, Merlin▬but you see, I don't have to pick between the two of them and▬" she nudged him, grinning smugly, "▬I never will."

"Oh, come on," he threw his head back, "you're no fun, Odette. Come one, just for the sake of it▬no one else will know. Just tell me. Arthur or Lancelot? Look," his voice dropped low into a whisper, "I know Arthur is an intolerable prat but you would get strawberries any time you wish. Since I would have to serve them to you. There are positives. We'd get to have each other's company together all the time."

Odette turned up her nose, "Yes, but are all those strawberries worth such a disdainful marriage?"

"Wouldn't I be worth such a marriage?"

She made a noise in the back of her throat▬one that made her sound as if she cared little for that fact. Merlin scoffed a chuckle and elbowed her.

The two friends' chuckles and banter came to a close as Arthur drew everyone's attention with a slam of his hand against the table. He stood up, holding his drink up for a toast to them all.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced and the hall grew quiet, "please join me in a toast to our new recruit▬" he lugged Lancelot up with him and Odette smiled, chuckling at the awkward shuffle he made, "▬our knew Knight of Camelot, Sir Lancelot!"

"To Sir Lancelot!" cheered the court, and the smile Lancelot had on his face warmed every heart.

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IN THE STORIES Odette has heard: the tales of mighty heroes, demigods and kings, there was always something familiar about them to each other. As quickly as the hero rose, just as quickly, did he always fall. The invincible Achilles perished by the smallest of blows, the loyal Beowulf kills the dragon, but is bitten a mortal wound, Hercules was cursed to murder his wife and children ... they did great deeds and always faced hardship in return.

She preached hope and she believed in it. She believed in miracles and she believed in second and third chances. Odette believed in every goodness within the world▬she did so in order to prove everyone wrong; to prove herself wrong, for the truest believer of hope and of naive innocence was also the same girl who has seen all hope fail in her life too many times.

    She saw it fail for Lancelot. Something if they had taken a moment to think about, they knew would come to pass. No matter the magic Merlin boasted, he could not create a nobleman in every document of family history. He could not add the fifth son of Lord Eldred of Northumbria in every census. He could not change a memory nor could he enchant the words from a page. It was only a matter of time before the King found out ... Odette supposed they all just hoped it would be after he had proven himself worthy. But even then, deep down, she knew the King would have never seen pass Lancelot's birth, no matter the great deeds he might've done.

    He had been taken from Gaius's chambers that morning and brought to the dungeons, where they all awaited the fate chosen for him. Lancelot, the name of a hero, and just as he rose to his dreams, he was toppled from them even quicker.

Odette couldn't help but feel guilty. She didn't persuade him, she didn't make him choose his fate, but she allowed it. She had let herself fall pray to her naive innocence and young-girl wishes at the expense of someone just as hopeful.

They let her visit him. She didn't know why. Perhaps the guards saw her tearful face and took pity on her. Perhaps something else. Odette paid little mind, brushing past them to make her way to the iron bars Lancelot had been placed behind.

She found him sitting there, gazing up at the small window; a crack through the stone▬at the life he would have had if they hadn't meddled in his.

Her fingers wrapped around the iron. "Lancelot..." she murmured, barely louder than a whisper. But he glanced over and his eyes widened. Immediately, he was on his feet.

"Odette," he breathed, coming to meet her▬pained that the bars separated them.

Her brows knitted together, suddenly feeling quite overwhelm with emotion. "I'm sorry▬"

"No," Lancelot stated firmly, resting his hands over hers. Her breath hitched at the warm feeling. "No, do not blame yourself▬this is no one's fault but mine."

"We should have done this another way," muttered Odette. "A delicate way▬spoken to Arthur of your situation; perhaps he could have helped▬?"

"Please," the brave knight stopped her, soft and gentle. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. Odette watched it, heavy-hearted. "Do not think of what could have been done and what might have been done. Do not torment yourself, Odette. I have made my grave and now I shall bury myself in it▬I take responsibility for my own actions, and I would not have you dragged down with me."

Odette couldn't speak▬at loss for words. She stared at Lancelot, and he watched her with the same gaze. She's never met a man so selfless and honourable as he. Someone mature, and someone gentle▬someone who was a noble, purely at heart. Her brows furrowed once more, and her lips pursed. In the end, she decided to say, "I don't think I've ever met a man quite like you, Sir Lancelot." She set her forehead against the bars; she felt him do the same. "And a man such as you should never be given a fate such as this."

Lancelot sighed; his breath tickled her nose. "A lady such as you shouldn't be on the other side of these bars."

"I'm not a lady," croaked Odette, tearful.

He squeezed the hold he had on her hands around the bars, "And I am not a knight. Not anymore."

Through the tiny, grated window within the four-stone-wall dungeon, sunlight broke through a late morning within the citadel square. It wasn't as crowded as it often was; now that all the refugees from the outlining villages attacked by the mythical beast they could still not name had found roofs to stay underneath, the cobblestone walkways underneath the prestigious castle stone was nearly empty. A few individuals walked here and there, a knight passed from one corridor to another, a few servants rushed across to the other end, a merchant marched down the stairs and started his return to the Upper Town.

    It was for once in the past few days, peaceful. And yet, the fair Guinevere found it far from peaceful. Her mind wandered to Lancelot stuck behind bars for a naive ambition they all indulged, and hoped he would succeed at▬and Gwen felt guilt for it.

    Or perhaps she felt anger. What should it matter if a knight was noble by birth if he wasn't noble at heart? If he was a man of considerable talent at the art of swordsmanship, if he had ambition, and he had chivalrous intent; if he was brave, and he was strategic▬if he had a good heart and humility as the average man, should he not be given the same chance? Should a knight not be judged upon his mettle, and his strive for goodness alone instead of his parentage?

    For how could ancestral nobility decree all of that and humble birth the opposite?

    Guinevere understood the reason why things were the way they are, but that did not mean she had to agree with much of it.

    She took a deep breath, trying to take in as much of the pleasant air as she could. Gwen frowned up at the sunlight and the clear blue skies, a rarity▬their days were usually warm and bright, until they drizzled with light rain and slight chills, and then the earth became muddy and sunken.

    And for a moment, to see the sky so bright, Gwen understood what Odette meant: how the sunlight could warm the bones and give hope. For all of her tense feelings in her shoulders and in her fingers seemed to lift and she sighed out, breathing a sad, but soon gentle smile.

    If you are the embodiment of hope, she prayed to the sunlight, I beg of you to gift a man a knighthood he is truly worthy of. Gift at least that.

    "Why, would you look at that, you're smiling."

    Immediately, the smile wiped off Guinevere's face. Her sigh turned exasperated and she clenched her jaw, turning to eye a steely gaze upon the Lord Vecentia. He only gave her a strained smile of his own, tense with his hands clasped behind his back. Awkwardly, he stopped to stand at her side▬they were shadowed within the corridors. No one really walked these hallways aside from a servant, Guinevere was surprised to see Ronyn stand here and if she wasn't scowling at him, she wondered whether he was feeling more comfortable here than anywhere else.

    There was always something differing about him whenever Gwen momentarily took a second to try and see him▬and it frustrated her how redeeming those things could be.

   And how despite how rude he was, and how upset he made her feel▬how much he had offended her and humiliated her, Gwen sighed and dipped her head down▬showing him polite respect. "I shouldn't be smiling," she told him truthfully. "Not when Lancelot is in those dungeons, his dreams destroyed."

    "Lancelot," said Ronyn thoughtfully, "the knight that wasn't a nobleman?"

    "Yes."

    He nodded. Ronyn had been dressed in a purple tunic today▬a colour only the rich could afford. Though, it was bright in comparison to what he usually wore; but he looked tired, like he had drunk far too much last night and had forced himself to look presentable to hide the way his hair fell messily over his eyes. He pursed his lips and muttered, "He was brave."

    Guinevere frowned, "He shouldn't have to be brave."

    "That doesn't change the fact he was," Ronyn met her gaze. And there, she saw envy. "Brave men chase their dreams and face the consequences."

    "He shouldn't have to face the consequences▬"

    "No," the Lord stressed, "perhaps not, Guinevere, but that is the world▬and he is brave to defy it. Most of us could never▬even if that is what we've wanted for the majority of our lives."

    She watched him, not sure whether she was intrigued or confused. He truly was envious of Lancelot▬for the bravery he deems him to have in a world he shouldn't need such courage to pursue what he wanted. For what reason? Because he wished he could do the same? Guinevere didn't understand. What could he be envious of? He was a Lord▬the Lord of one of the greatest families in Camelot. He had everything he wanted at the touch of a fingertip, and yet, for the first time, Gwen noticed just how sad Ronyn Vecentia looked.

    And soon, she realised. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, "You wish to be a knight?"

    Ronyn tensed once more; his breath hitching through his nose. He eyed her out of the corner of his eye, startled by how well she could analyse somebody's thoughts. He itched to run away▬to run far, far away ... but he stood is ground.

    Gwen blinked her surprise away. She set it back on her fingers, starting to pick off some dirt from the sides of her nails. "Why can't you be a knight, My Lord?"

    "Because that is not how the world works," grumbled the Lord. "I am the first born and only son of my late father▬it is my duty to be nothing less, and nothing more than the same as he once was." His tongue grew heavy and it was hard to swallow. To be as he once was ... Ronyn felt like it was God's greatest curse to give him the very destiny of the same man who beat him and belittled him▬made him feel so small he could never escape the chains that kept him down; even now.

    He supposed that was how irony worked.

    The air between them grew heavier. Gwen took a deep breath, knowing she should walk away▬she wanted to walk away and never look back; feel the satisfaction to humble him even further. But at the sound of his voice ... when he spoke of his father, Guinevere felt no want to do anything of the sort. He sounded as if he had been brought down enough▬even too much.

    Ronyn quickly snapped out of it. He cleared his throat and finally brought his hands out from his back. He held out one to her, rather awkward▬and there, in his fingers, was a drooping, single flower. Gwen frowned at it, incredulous. It looked as if he had picked it out of the cracks of the stone where the weeds grew. It seemed like it was a weed, one of those bright flowered ones.

    She didn't think he knew that.

    Just as awkward, Gwen decided to take it. Hesitant▬like she expected knives to extend out from the small petals. She was silent as she turned it in her own fingers, very bewildered. "I ... I'm sorry, My Lord▬I do not understand▬?"

    "That is my white flag," said Ronyn. He scratched the back of his ear, nodding at the flower. "It's▬it's not white, probably should have been▬but, that is what it is. You do not have to accept it, or allow it▬I do not expect you to. But ... you are right."

    Her brows knitted together. A strange feeling settled in her chest. It was much the same like every other feeling she felt around Ronyn▬hot, flustered anger ... and yet it wasn't anger this time ... it was like something else replaced the anger in this moment and made it ... sweet. Made him sweet. She told herself to hate it▬the redeeming quality ... but she couldn't. "I ... I am?"

    He nodded, stiff and rigid. "Yes, you quite are▬about most things, in fact, it would seem. You are right when you said my apology wasn't sincere. I presume you respect the truth, and I respect you enough to deliver it: I do not apologise for thinking of my only sister that made me do something rash that was not considerate of yourself, I admit ... and despise that how you wish, I will accept that. But ... I do apologise for assuming you did not understand. It has ... come to my attention that you do ... perhaps better than most ... understand the motivation of my decision. And so I apologise, Guinevere." Ronyn nodded again, taking a deep breath. But he was genuine. For once, Ronyn said something genuine. "Truly."

    Gwen didn't know what to say. She was stunned into a silence that held no bitterness and no anger. She held the single flower tight in her hands, watching Ronyn who only met her gaze such the same▬not ready to back down. She had a feeling he was never the one to back down, even if it brought him strife.

    Do not let him win, she scolded herself. Not after what he had done to Odette. Not after what he did to you.

    She did not forgive him. She did not forgive him for his fake belief of the honour he had in being charitable to her father. She did not forgive him for the mistakes he has made to her and Odette. She did not forgive him, even if he stood before her and gave her a weed he called a flower and deemed it a white flag of truce. Even if he somehow made all of that disappear with a weed he called a flower and deemed it a white flag of truce. A weed.

    Why did he feel obligation to make right with her when there were others who were more deserving of it▬who had been hurt very much more? Maybe that was what vexed her the most.

    Gwen could tell he knew she did not let up her dislike, nor had she passed up her flag of peace. She could see the reluctant acceptance on his face▬and she hated how she felt bad. Guinevere's brows furrowed once more. She pursed her lips, and she shook her head, twisting the flower yet again. She tried to think of what to say. But she was at lost of words, and she felt like that shy girl who held her tongue▬who stumbled on her thoughts and back-tracked her blunt truth, realising what she had said was inconsiderate. "M▬My Lord, I▬I didn't▬it wasn't my intention to make you feel bad▬"

    "No," he cut her off before she could. Gwen was taken aback. Ronyn shook his head at her. "Say what you mean, for you mean what you say, Guinevere. You are truly the only genuine one here. Don't keep that to yourself▬at least, never feel as if you should keep it from me. Even if it is your adamant dislike."

    Ronyn sent her one last polite, stiff smile and bowed his head, respectful before he turned to leave. Walking away from Gwen who once again, couldn't find a word to say▬and he would have, if the echoing screech didn't pierce their ears; a shrill sound that vibrated in their chests.

     Both of them jumped, spinning around with their eyes wide and their hearts in their throats as the screech echoed again▬following by screams in the square as people began to notice something soar down from the sky.

    Gwen gasped and froze up, terrified and confused. Before she could try and see what it was, Ronyn had grasped her shoulder and pulled her back behind him. "Stay here," he told her and surged forwards.

    She couldn't stop him. Gwen watched as Ronyn rushed to the edge of the hallway, gazing back outside around the columns into the square. His blood ran cold. Amongst the screams, there was the screech of a creature▬a vicious creature of myth: a beast conjured from dark magic with the razor sharp beak and glowing yellow eyes, front two legs with curling daggers for talons and the feathered wings of an eagle. But down past its neck, the feathers mixed in with the glistening coat of a terrifying mammal; the coat travelled all the way to the end where his back limbs and tail resembled that of a lion.

    Those still in the square ran for cover as the creature swooped, raking his talons and claws across stone▬slicing right through statues and the foundations, leaving haunting scars. Ronyn found himself wanting to tremble; this was the creature that had caused destruction in Greensward and Willowdale▬sent the villagers fleeing and their homes nothing more than ruins. And now, the creature had made its way to Camelot.

    He glanced back over his shoulder at Guinevere, who hunched down in the shadow of the columns away from the creature's sight▬her cheeks were pale, her eyes wide and frantic. She was terrified, though she did not run.

    Ronyn met her gaze, "Get inside," he told her. She didn't move. She just stared at him. He grew frustration. "Get inside!"

    She didn't listen. Gwen just scoffed a horrified whisper, "And what are you going to do?"

    Ronyn didn't know. Get everyone out? Fight the creature himself? Would his legs even work enough to run? The beast swooped once more and a group of children screamed as they ducked behind one of the statues. Ronyn felt his heart jolt. He didn't think twice.

    Unsheathing his blade at his hip Ronyn broke out into a sprint across the square. The warning bells had sounded▬which meant Arthur and his knights wouldn't be far behind. Considering most of the guards in the square had been killed already in their attempt to protect the citadel or flee, Ronyn presumed more would come, too. But while they were to fight this beast, Ronyn was determined to get everyone inside.

    He heard Gwen shout his name, though it was in the back of his mind. He reached the children just in time as the creature swooped again▬it extended its claws and Ronyn cried out, swinging his sword in a wide arc that made the beast balk. Its wings reared back and it screeched in his face▬so close that if it didn't pull back, Ronyn would have been shredded.

    As the creature hovered above, Ronyn spun his sword and stood over the cowering children▬his heart pounded, his breath was hitched. The two young siblings that trembled behind his legs couldn't be more than five years old. They were sobbing, too terrified to move▬he wanted to shout at them to run, but he knew that would only terrify them more.

    Until someone else came to help. Terrified out of her mind, Guinevere sprinted towards Ronyn as he kept the creatures attention focused purely on him. He dared not look back, fearful that if he took his gaze off the beast, it would attack▬but he could hear the blacksmith's daughter coax the children and trying to get them to flee. When she realised they were petrified▬unable to move, she didn't waste a moment to pick the youngest up. She held the young girl to her chest and she wrapped her arms around her, sobbing into her shoulder. The boy grasped her outstretched hand and Guinevere dragged him with her at his fastest run towards the servants' entrance.

    Meanwhile, Ronyn was in an intense battle with the beast. The only one prepared to fight; alone and without any aid▬he faced the creature by himself. Guinevere watched from the door as she ushered the children inside, not sure whether she's seen any Lord in Camelot place himself in such danger. A Lord placed their men on a battlefield in favour of the King, they spoke their words and voted their opinions▬preached bravery, honour and nobility in the name of a prestigious family, but Ronyn was the only one Gwen has seen risk his own life to protect others. He didn't preach it, he didn't speak words and deemed himself honourable, he just did it. That was more honourable than any attempt Ronyn made in the name of nobility.

    The creature swooped once more. Ronyn tried to thrust his blade but in the end had no choice but to duck▬rolling across the stone to avoid the beast's talons. He glanced back and only just had enough time to raise his weapon as the magical beast dived in for a second attack. His sword struck the creature's neck▬a blow that should have mortally wounded any animal, but instead, Ronyn's elbows jarred. Terrible pain trembled up his sword arm and he watched▬right before his eyes▬his blade shatter from mere contact with this beast's skin.

    He gasped. He closed his eyes▬he felt his blade ricochet; shards of steel lodging through his doublet and into his shoulder. Ronyn hit the stone, his arm searing with pain all the way up to his collarbone that burned. Blood started to stain the fabric of his clothes and he gritted his teeth, trying to force the daze from his mind at the pain▬if he didn't move, the creature will kill him.

    What if he let it? A terrible thought occurred. He'd be free, then. Some other tortured soul would have to be Lord Vecentia. He'd defy his father one final time and destroy his bloodline of sons completely.

    Ronyn clutched his shoulder that was wet with crimson through his ripped doublet. He heard the beasts shrieks as it came down for the final kill▬but Destiny had other plans for him, and part of him cursed it. And yet, another blessed it when his childhood friend was suddenly over him. Arthur had a blazed torch in his hands and he swiped it upwards; and while the steel seemed not to harm the beast, fire sparked fear within its soulless eyes.

    Another swing; the creature balked yet again. Its wings thrashed against its body▬it gave Arthur a final screech before taking back off into the sky. Ronyn watched it go, and when he was sure it wasn't coming back any time soon, he let his head fall back. He sighed, cursing the Lord in Heaven for his pain.

    Arthur heard him and crouched down. The Prince saw the blood and the patches of mangled flesh and steel underneath. "You blasted idiot, Ronyn," grumbled the King's son.

    "It is my favourite doublet, too," Ronyn managed to joke.

    Arthur scoffed at him, knowing that if he could joke, he'll be okay. He helped his best friend up onto his feet, supporting him with his good arm over his shoulder. Together, the two of them made their way to Gaius's chambers▬though Ronyn found himself glancing back, trying to capture the gaze of the blacksmith's daughter; just to check whether she was okay.

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"WILL HE BE OKAY, Gaius?"

    Ronyn winced as the physician cleaned his wounds; his bloody doublet and shirt had been discarded against the cot. He sat, shirtless on a chair while Gaius did something or rather to stop infection, dress the superficial wounds on his shoulder, bandage it and strap his arm to stop himself from using it▬for the blow to the creature had strained it.

    Arthur was pacing the room around him. He, Merlin and Odette (who had somehow found herself in these chambers instead of doing whatever she does with Morgana) watched him incredulously.

    Merlin made a face, as if disgusted by Arthur's worry.

    "Stop being a hen," Ronyn chided the Prince. "I can ask my own questions▬" he glanced over his shoulder up at the physician, "▬Gaius, will I live, or will I be forever cursed with a limp arm?"

    "Will he have to lose his arm?" suddenly asked Odette, horrified.

    Merlin frowned at her, "He won't have to lose his arm."

    The two of them were sharing a single chair in the room by the stone wall; in the shadow of drawings of botany, miscellaneous things that hung down, such as rope, pans and herbs, and more skeletal depictions of the human body.

    The young handmaiden frowned back at the Prince's manservant. "How would you know?"

     Merlin made a face, "Because I know."

    "He won't lose his arm," snapped Arthur back at the two of them. "Now, would you two stop whispering about when Gaius is trying to concentrate?"

    Odette mimicked him as he turned around and Merlin joined in▬when Arthur glanced back, both of the servants stopped immediately, gazing out towards the sunlight though the window innocently.

    "You will live," Gaius told Ronyn as he finished, securing the bandage over around his shoulder. "You won't lose your arm and you should regain complete feeling back in a few days."

    The young Lord thanked him and struggled to place on a fresh tunic with his bad arm. Gaius helped him before starting to work on a sling he should keep on for the next few days. Strenuous, really.

    Merlin went to clap sarcastically but Odette stopped him with a scowl. He shook his head at her as if to ask, who's side are you on?

    Arthur continued to pace, despite the good news that his friend's arm would survive another day. He was still in his chainmail and tunic, his sword strapped at his hip and his gaze set into a permanent scowl. He glowered out of the window, his fingers running along his jaw thoughtfully; they brushed over his lips▬

    Odette stopped watching. She decided to try and shove Merlin over further to give herself more room, hoping that would hide the strange burn to her cheeks. "Hey!" he whisper-shouted at her, not sure why she was suddenly so irritating. (Even though she had claimed the chair first and he had forced her to make room).

    She ignored him, trying very hard not to think about Arthur in the room. It reminded her of the day previous▬the gaze she had caught. It did not happen, Odette told herself again. And it surely won't happen again.

    Arthur stopped mulling over his thoughts and spoke, "And your blade did not harm the creature?"

    Ronyn shook his head, uncomfortable as his arm was wrapped up in fabric. "No▬the blade shattered as soon as it made contact. Like the beat's skin was made of iron."

    Odette's brows lifted, shocked. She knew better than to speak out of term, but with just the group of them in the room, she presumed she would be all right to speak her mind. "That doesn't seem something possible? Creatures aren't made of iron▬they're made of flesh and blood, just like us ...?"

    Her words trailed off, not so sure anymore. She met Merlin's gaze, and thought of what he and Lancelot had told her▬that the creature they met in the woods could not be harmed; the same creature that was terrorising the villages and now Camelot.

    She thought of the promise she made that little girl, that she wouldn't be harmed. Odette clenched the skirts of her dress, hoping to hide the sudden fear she felt. She didn't want to look scared in front of Arthur.

    "I saw it with my own eyes, Odette," Ronyn told her. "That creature is no ordinary beast."

    "But▬" she stopped herself. Something tightened in her chest. She didn't want Camelot to be struck with the same destruction as the villages▬she didn't want the villagers to go through the same disaster. If this was a creature that couldn't be killed ... that must mean any that faced it would face terrible consequences.

    Her eyes wandered back towards Arthur before she could stop them▬he didn't notice. He was too busy frowning at the stone floor, his grip tight on the hilt of his sheathed blade. Though, she knew he was thinking the same thing.

    Even though he realised what might lie before him, Arthur did not show any fear. He nodded to himself and brushed past towards Ronyn. "I must speak with my father. Rest well, Ronyn." He sent him a pointed look nonetheless, and there was a sweet moment where the Prince held nothing but concern and care for his oldest friend. "Do not over-exert yourself. You were very brave. Once Gaius is finished make your way to the council chambers▬there is much to discuss."

    He clasped his good shoulder. Then, with a nod, continued his way to the entrance. Odette watched him leave, not sure why she wanted him to glance at her▬and when he didn't, leaving without another word, she found herself slightly disappointed.

    Once Arthur was gone, Ronyn shuffled on his chair. The sling was now tied at his shoulder and he grunted, not particularly happy by it. "Great..." he muttered as he did. "I look forward to listening to Uther boast." He glanced back at Gaius again who had been strangely quiet since; his gaze brooding and his brows furrowed. Ronyn understood that glance. "You know what this beast is, don't you, Gaius?"

    The physician pursed his lips. He patted Ronyn's shoulder, "You are very lucky you are here, My Lord," said Gaius. "A creature such as the one you faced is immune to steel."

    "So it is a creature of magic?"

    He continued to brood▬and the atmosphere of the chambers changed drastically. "You must go, Ronyn," said the physician instead, "it is not wise to keep the King waiting."

    He sighed, but let it be. As the Lord Vecentia stood and started the journey back towards the council chambers in the front rooms of the castle, Gaius, Merlin and Odette followed. No one blinked an eye that the Lady Morgana's maid was at the physician's side within the chambers as they all arrived▬laughing and congratulating the Prince for spooking the beast off. She was pretty sure none of them even noticed she was there.

    Odette stayed at Merlin's side, standing a little behind as she observed the sight of the King enter with a bright, proud smile on his face for Arthur's efforts. Though, the Prince shared little enthusiasm. As they entered, the group of them bowed their heads, and Ronyn marched forward.

    "Sire," he greeted the King, bowing▬for Uther to only hold him up by his good arm.

    "You are as courageous as one of my son's knights, Lord Vecentia," stated the King, congratulating him, as well. Ronyn managed a stiff smile. "Just as your father was before you▬you would make him proud for your actions today in the square."

    Odette took a sharp breath through her nose, watching Ronyn's reaction carefully. He played it off well. Bowing his head again, "Thank you, Your Majesty▬I'm glad you think so."

    Uther gave Ronyn another hearty clap on his shoulder before moving on▬and when he did, Odette could see the way the Lord Vecentia seemed suddenly unwell.

    The King, Ronyn, his son and some of his knights continued their way to the centre of the council rooms where Gaius, Merlin and Odette were waiting. Unlike in the physician's chambers, the Prince found her gaze almost immediately▬he sent her an exasperated look, knowing exactly why she had followed Gaius here. He considered having a word with Morgana to never dismiss her second handmaiden during the day for she always ended up sticking her curious nose where she wasn't supposed to.

    He cleared his throat and turned away, refusing to gaze at her any longer. "All I know is that it's still out there."

    His father nodded, agreeing, "Yes▬let's not wait for it. The kingdom has been menaced by this creature for too long. We finish this now."

    Gaius took this moment to speak up as Ronyn shared an apprehensive glance with the Prince. "Sire, if I may..."

    The King turned to the physician. He nodded, allowing him to speak, "Gaius."

    The Court Physician approached the King. Merlin and Odette followed at a distance, quiet and attentive. "I've been researching this creature, Sire. I believe it to be a Griffin."

    They all frowned. "A Griffin?" echoed the King. "What's in a name?"

    "The Griffin is a creature of magic."

    At the very mention of sorcery, the King's gaze hardened. He clenched his jaw, "I don't have time for this, physician."

    Gaius did not back down. Odette fiddled with her fingers, growing a little nervous at the tone of Uther's voice. "It is born of magic, Sire," stressed the physician, "and it can only be killed by magic."

    "You are mistaken," said the King. "It is a creature of flesh and blood like any other. Arthur and the Lord Ronyn proved that today▬" he went to clasp his hand on his son's arm, but Arthur stepped back, shaking his head as he considered Gaius's words.

    "I'm not so sure, Father," he said thoughtfully. "I think ... I think there may be some truth in what he says."

    Uther scoffed lightly under his breath, "What truth?"

    Arthur stared at him, a little incredulous. "The Griffin was unharmed, Sire," he said. "Ronyn's sword was useless against it."

    "Useless?" the King chuckled at the mere thought, moving on. "I think not."

    Gaius bounced his brows to himself, sending a subtle glance Merlin and Odette's ways▬quite expecting this reaction. As his father swept away, Arthur turned to the three of them briefly, almost apologetic. Though he was worried▬scared, even. Odette could see it in his eyes. She was scared, too.

    "No," went on the King, pacing the room as he made his decision, "it's tasted our steel once. The next time will be its last." He turned back to his son. "When will your knights be ready to ride again?"

    Arthur set his jaw. Reluctantly, he answered, "An hour, maybe two."

    He didn't want to send his men off to die▬and going after this Griffin, he knew they surely will. If he had to send them to their deaths, Arthur knew he must go with them, too. That was his responsibility.

    The King nodded, satisfied. "Good. We finish this tonight."

    He marched out of the room and the knights followed, leaving Ronyn, Arthur, Gaius, Merlin and Odette alone. The Prince found her gaze once more, and she wondered whether he could see the fear in her eyes▬for by tomorrow morning, deep down, she knew if he faced this Griffin, she would never see him again.

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THE AIR WAS sombre as they returned to Gaius's chambers. Odette needed to go soon to prepare Morgana for bed, but she found herself distracted; following Merlin into the room with her brows furrowed and her throat tight. She couldn't stop thinking of the look on Arthur's face▬knowing he will surely perish if he was to ride out to face the Griffin tonight. But she knew that it was within him to go out there, to face the same death he sent his men off to battle. But for once, she wished him different.

    As Gaius closed the door, Merlin came to a stop in the centre of the chambers. He pressed a finger against his lips, stern, "Is it true ...?" he asked softly. "The Griffin can only be killed by magic?"

    The physician sighed, coming over to stand with them, "Yes, Merlin. I am certain of it. If Arthur rides out against it, he will die."

    "Then he must be stopped. Uther must see reason."

    Gaius shook his head, "Where magic is concerned, I'm afraid our King is blind to reason." Slowly, he approached Merlin who watched him, brows knitted together, "And yet ... magic is our only hope."

    The young warlock started to realise what he meant. Fear flickered in his gaze, "You're not suggesting...?"

    Grim, the physician nodded, "It is your destiny, Merlin. The true purpose of your magic."

    Merlin was quiet for a second. Odette watched him swallow back a lump in his throat. His next words were forced, "Y▬you saw it, Gaius," he managed, terrified. "I can't go up against that thing."

    "But if you do not, then Arthur will surely perish."

    The warlock shook his head. He stepped back. "No, no. This is madness." He started to pace the room, stammering on his own words, "I▬I▬I don't have magic that powerful▬there must be another way."

    "This is the only way," said Gaius gravely.

    Merlin couldn't accept it. His heart paced. "D▬do you even care what happens to me?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "Oh, just do this, Merlin, do that, Merlin▬Go and kill the Griffin, Merlin. I'll just sit here and warm my feet by the fire▬"

    "Merlin!"

    He pressed his lips together, quietly fuming as Gaius cut him off. Odette stayed silent, not sure what she wanted. She hated the thought of Merlin going out there to face this creature, but if he didn't, then Arthur would die. She didn't like that▬she didn't like any of this.

    Gaius then sighed once more. He sent the warlock a small, sad smile, "Merlin," he reached out and took his shoulders▬gently and caring; a fatherly touch that made Merlin's eyes start to blur with oncoming tears. "You are one of the only things I care about in all this world. I would give my life for you without a thought. But for what? I cannot save Arthur. It is not my destiny." He rubbed the young boy's arms. "You know."

    When he stepped away, at first, Merlin didn't say anything. He swallowed back another lump▬an ache in his throat that he couldn't get rid of no matter how hard he tried. He glanced at Odette, and she furrowed her brows, emotional as she walked up to take his hand▬supportive no matter what. He appreciated it. It gave him strength.

    Strength enough to find the courage within him to face this.

    He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he mumbled to his uncle.

    Gaius shook his head, and Merlin could see how worried he was for his safety▬and he truly did mean it; he started to realise just how much Gaius has come to care for his young nephew. "I don't know what else I can say."

    Merlin slowly set his gaze. He let go of Odette's hand and clenched his fingers. Even with his heart pounding against his chest, Merlin understood what he had to do. In the face of fear, he had no choice but to push through it. It was up to him to bring forth a better future, and that was the burden he must carry upon his shoulders. "Then I'll say it for you. We have two hours to find a way to kill that thing."

    While Merlin and Gaius spent the next two hours scouring through the magic book hidden underneath Merlin's floorboards, Odette prepared Morgana for bed. She did not mention the ill fate the Prince would be met with, riding out tonight to her mistress, who was already pale and shaking▬quite upset by the whole ordeal.

    Odette had sat with her that night, like many times before, helping her fall asleep after she had her sleeping draft▬doing her best to coax away Morgana's stress and nightmares. She would stay with her every night until her breathing evened out and her eyelids would stop fluttering. Odette would then tuck her mistress in and brush her hair off her face, like how her own mother would do to her. But it rarely ever seemed to work. Every night, Odette would wake to her screams, and be there▬running out from the antechamber▬to console her, holding her tight as she sobbed into her shoulder from her bed.

    No, of course she could not tell her of how even Odette was scared. Instead, she said, "Arthur will be fine," like Morgana had promised her when Merlin had been dying▬like they've promised each other many times before. Instead, Odette forced a smile on her face and kept her strength as she blew out the candle. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure as she did not take to the antechamber that night ... not yet ... she didn't think she could sleep. For once, Odette believed she would be the one with the nightmares.

    She headed down the stairwell to and towards the lower servants' entrances, determined to watch Arthur go from the battlements. Odette held her skirts up to her ankles as she ran, slipping through the castle she knew so well in the dark▬unbeknownst to everyone. But the castle saw. The walls understood. The windows guided the moonlight to help her. To everyone else, she was a ghost. But to this castle, she was its daughter. And it loved her, and it cherished her, and it always showed her the way.

    As she took a turn towards the tallest staircase▬to find herself at the very highest point of the castle, someone stopped her.

    A hand grasped around her elbow and gently pulled her to the side and into the light. Odette gasped, shocked and terrified, until her eyes found who it was▬and she sighed out with relief, only to then be surprised.

    "Lancelot?" she breathed.

    And it was him. Lancelot. Brave, selfless and honourable Lancelot. In a dirty tunic and grime on his cheeks from sleeping on the dungeon floor. But here he was, gazing down upon her with that look in his eye▬free and right in front of her.

    "I'm sorry to startle you, My Lady," he said to her and her brows lifted, confused.

    "But ..." she shook her head, unable to believe it. "Who▬who let you out? I do not understand▬"

    "There isn't much time," Lancelot cut her off gently, his hand moving from her arm to then take her palm. "I've come to bid you farewell."

    Odette grew even more confused. Though the word farewell brought an ache to her throat. "F▬farewell?" she croaked, taken-aback. "Y▬you're leaving?"

    He pursed his lips. For a moment, he looked pained. "I am to head to find Guinevere▬to gather weapons, armour ..."

    "What?" she didn't understand. But she knew it wasn't something to feel content about. She grew fretful▬scared, almost. The way he was looking at her, she felt as if he was prepared to say goodbye to her forever. "What▬what do you mean? What are you talking about?"

    Lancelot took a step closer to her. He squeezed her hand. "Arthur stands in mortal peril," he said. "I must do what I can to protect him."

    Odette realised. Her breath hitched, her brows furrowed▬she tried to say something, but her voice wouldn't work.

    "It is my duty," he then told her, and there was no room for discussion, "knight or not."

    "But ..." her voice was barely louder than a whisper as she finally managed to get it to work. Her fingers slipped from his to rest against his chest, as if that would keep him from leaving. "But the▬the Griffin, Lancelot, no weapon can harm it▬"

    "I know▬"

    "▬it will kill you▬"

    "▬if that is my fate, then I will gladly accept it," he said. "As long as the Prince survives long enough to become King."

    She didn't know what to say. She didn't know whether there was anything she could say. Odette grew tearful. She was terrified▬helpless, even▬but she also felt that same admiration warm her chest; as it always did whenever Lancelot was around since he arrived here a few days prior. It filled her with hope, with inspiration▬for once, Odette wasn't searching for faith; instead, someone else was giving it to her.

    "You really believe that, don't you?" she murmured.

    Lancelot bowed his head, "Yes, My Lady." He took her hand once more, keeping it rested upon his chest. "Odette," he said, "if I should not return▬"

    "Please, don't go, Lancelot," burst out the young handmaiden.

    He sighed. For a while, he stood there, watching her with a sad breath▬Odette knew that look. She wore it upon her own face every day, where she accepted where Fate had brought her ... and did not make a move to fight against it, to change any of it for herself.

    She's never met someone so much like herself than Lancelot.

    And so she knew, no matter how hard she tried, she would not persuade him. Lancelot brushed a gentle thumb across her hand. "But go I must," he said.

    He bowed his head to her once more and then let go of her hand. Odette felt it fall▬she let it fall as she turned around, watching Sir Lancelot du Lac race off towards the castle's exit in the night.

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SHE DIDN'T KNOW, by the next sunrise, that would be her goodbye.

    Heroes became heroes through tragedy's journey. Legends became legends under the hand of not God's Fate, but the Fate of the people▬through tales told from mouth to mouth, generation after generation. They are written in poems, epics and songs; sung by bards in inns and taverns. Told, sang, and then told and sang again until they become nothing more than a myth of what their true tale once was.

    There would never be another man in this world quite like Lancelot. He who slayed the Griffin; saved the life of Arthur when all else albeit perished. He who was honourable, and selfless, and most worthy of knighthood than any man bequeathed a noble birth.

    But go I must, he had told her as a final breath▬and here she watched him go, from her window in a tower ... watching him ride far from this place. Lancelot ... her Lancelot.

    Odette sniffled back a few of her tears, trying to stay strong as the day moved on; as the sun rose and set▬as the birds sung and the workers hammered the stone. As Lancelot rode away on a gelding of chestnut brown, a cloak not of scarlet and the golden thread of a dragon▬but one of his own making. A lonesome knight, a humble man, a forgotten boy ... off he went, and here she stayed.

    Though she would not forget. Odette would one day make Lancelot a legend▬though, she was quite sure, that he'd make it there himself.

    "Odette?"

    She didn't hear the Lady Morgana at first. Odette continued to watch Lancelot leave until he had disappeared into the forest past the Camelot walls, and still watched even then ... wondering where they would be if things had gone differently. But Lancelot's battle was not for her, it was for the greater good; for peace, for prosperity, for Camelot. And she understood that better than anyone.

    Morgana's hand on her shoulder made her jump. "Odette?"

    She spun around, rather startled. Staring, wide-eyed up at her mistresses gaze under soft strands of black waves, she couldn't utter a word. There was a lump in her throat, and it ached.

    Morgana's brows lifted, "Dear friend, are you okay?"

    Odette nodded. Then, she shook her head.

    Her mistress understood. She gave her a sad smile, "Lancelot?"

    Tears welled up in her eyes and Morgana sighed. "Oh, dear Odette," and before she knew it, the lady's arms wrapped around her tightly. Odette was surprised▬but the gesture made her slump in her friend's hold, breaking down into tears.

    Morgana brushed her hair, setting her chin onto the younger girl's head. She wasn't too sure whether Odette cried about Lancelot, or cried about something else▬perhaps all she needed was to break down into tears in the arms of someone who cared about her in a world where most disregarded her. For a moment, Odette didn't need to be strong, or to be hopeful, she could just be sad as she accepted another card Fate dealt her.

    When she started to settle, Morgana pulled away. She cupped her dearest friend's cheeks and wiped her tears away. "Come, have some of my breakfast▬Gwen's bringing strawberries."

    Odette couldn't help but breath a small amused smile. Morgana beamed at it. She remembered her young second handmaiden as a lost girl of thirteen, and she couldn't find any part of her in disagreement to Guinevere's plead to have her appointed as a maid. Never was Odette meant to be Morgana's main companion▬a young girl who would come and fix her sheets, or clean her room when she was otherwise busy; Uther saw no need for his Ward to have a second handmaiden. Until he came to see her give Morgana a bouquet of flowers after she returned from her father's grave, for she understood the pain of losing a parent▬and when Morgana asked him a second time, he did not object.

    She was a gem within a dark world, and she reminded Morgana of everything good. She did not want to see her so upset.

    Odette sniffled. "I quite like strawberries," she mumbled and Morgana chuckled.

    "Come," she said again, gentle and caring. "We have a big day ahead."

    Her youngest handmaiden nodded. She took a deep breath and Morgana rubbed her shoulders. "Yes," she agreed. "Sorry."

    "Oh, do not apologise, Odette," said her friend. "You cared for him▬you cared for him deeply, I could tell. Maybe one day," she smiled, "you'll see him again. I have hope you will."

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    a/n: Odette and Morgana being girlfriends >>>>

    anyway lancelot and Odette are so similar in the way that they wouldn't fight for each other for something to work. which is important for odette's development, you'll see .

    odette and arthur's shared love for strawberries is inspired by bradley's search for strawberries in france. purely inspired by it.

    also odette and merlin are platonic soulmates it's true I love them so much.

    btw ronyn has many flaws it's true, but he also grows a lot and has quite a lot of development. especially in this first act. right now, he seems very narrow minded and shallow, and doesn't see past his own nose, but he will.

    some of my most favourite characters are my super flawed ones that grow up tremendously well. they're so interesting. especially with ronyn's trauma being a severe road-block in him becoming the man he wants to be.

    arthur truly believes the feelings he gets at lancelot's intentions with odette are because he's protective of her. he sees her still as a young child that was super annoying and frustrating but endearing all the same. until she fricken pulls the rug out from underneath him like the fukin derek he is.

    anyway what I mean is at this stage he believes it's purely platonic and she's underage in this act. so while back in those days they didn't care for that (girls were married at young ages), and historically speaking he definitely has feelings for her and it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for someone of his age to pursue a seventeen-year-old, and technically, he is, I'm not going down that road 'physically' until odette is older. this act is saved completely for developing the start of where their relationship is in season 2.

    I just felt the need to state that considering it's one of the reasons why I've named this book mature. It's in the warnings at the start but I'm also saying it again now. Especially since arthur does chide odette and they have that dynamic purely because of their age gap that develops as she grows up and matures (as we all do naturally) and starts to put arthur in his place (the queen). it's something that im exploring with the two of them that I haven't explored before.

    I don't know whether I've explained it well I'm sorry. but in summary: Arthur's quite dominant in many aspects in his character and Odette is the opposite. There's an age gap and I've started developing a relationship while she's 17 and he's 20-21. Nothing is acted upon until she's at least 18. But he's still four years older than her and there are moments where he does chide her for things. But she also shows she's quite dutiful and cares for camelot, and would make a great queen to which he's 😍 for. Aka there's development but at the same time it's apart of their characters and their relationship dynamic.

     still confusing? I'm sorry

    you'll see what I mean eventually.