by L. A. Grant
Until, sensing our weakness, the armies of Mordred had attacked, and I’d led the king’s knights into battle in a bid to save him.
To save us all.
And I’d failed.
This was supposed to have been our second chance. To save Arthur, our king.
But how could we save him when the woman who’d been responsible for his death had somehow returned before him. I refused to think she’d returned instead of him. That was too cruel to even consider.
Yet as I stood before her, her eyes sharp, her red hair like fire in the low light, I found it hard believing that Gwenhwyfar stood before me.
No.
Or I didn’t want to parse the possibility. Maybe this was who Gwenhwyfar could have been, in another life. We were all different. So she would be as well.
She took a confident step toward us and softly spoke the command: “Let me see him.”
We all parted to let her pass. My heart didn’t question her even once. The realization both heartened and worried me.
20
Arlena
“Let me see him,” I said, more of a command than a request. They didn’t question me, moving aside, bowing slightly as the waist. Did they really believe I was some queen come back to lead them?
A traitorous queen?
None of it felt right in my heart, but I ignored it, focusing on the flames fanned to life. The same fires I’d felt when the boar had trapped me between its tusks.
I knelt by the small table that held Wane’s basket, and gently moved it to the couch. He barely moved. He was so badly hurt.
How are you still alive, brave knight?
Gawain. I knew him, a memory deep within me, locked away beyond the walls of this life. I didn’t need to access it to know that I wanted to save him.
“Galahad,” I said softly, speaking to Hayden. He knelt beside me, a question on his lips. “I’ll take him. When I do, move the basket away from under him, please.”
“That might kill him, your majesty.”
Your majesty. It felt weird. Wrong. It wasn’t a title I was ready to claim, even if it were rightly mine.
“Call me Arlena,” I gave him a slight smile, held his eyes, “and trust me.”
He took a second to consider and then nodded. I was pretty sure he’d just come to the conclusion that Wane was dead anyway, so might as well try this. Still, I found myself grateful for his willingness to help.
I gently reached in. The falcon didn’t make a noise as I lifted him up, careful to cradle his broken wing and support his head.
Hayden gently moved the basket off the couch, and I placed Wane on the cheap fabric. There was no movement, not even the faint rising of his chest, and I feared it was already too late.
No. It wasn’t too late. I could feel it, in the fire burning within me. I could still save him. I simply had to do what I’d done to the boar and change him back into a human.
“Come back to me, Gawain,” I whispered and closed my eyes, focusing my fire toward him. The fires warmed me but did not burn, light exploding behind my eyelids.
You know this.
I pushed the fire to my hands and into him, until he finally moved. When I opened my eyes again, a man lay on the couch, very naked, and very confused looking, his brown hair disheveled but his goatee perfectly maintained. His brown eyes focused on mine, and he blinked a few times, as though trying to get his bearings.
Hayden dropped a blanket on him to cover him.
“What happened,” he asked, sounding exhausted and dehydrated.
“You need food and rest, and some medicine,” Hayden said, looking at me from where he knelt beside me, “but you can thank our new friend Arlena. She just saved your life.”
He looked at me with light in his eyes that terrified me. Like I was actually a savior or something.
I stood back up, and Hayden stood with me. Lance looked like he wanted to embrace me, which freaked me out even more, because I really wanted him to, which wasn’t exactly normal for me. Only Percy looked at me with both admiration and some suspicion.
I focused on him, my stomach rumbling.
“I have no clue what I just did,” I said, my stomach somersaulting more violently, “but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be super sick.”
They moved quickly, and a bucket appeared in front of me just as I started throwing up. Someone even held my hair back.
I’d have laughed at the situation had I not been so busy puking my guts out, the pain in my side doubling as some of my stitches came undone from the strain.
By the time my stomach was emptied, I was spent, and let myself be carried back to bed. I didn’t even care that my pants were pulled off again, and my shirt raised to redo stitches and reapply balms.
I could only think about one thing.
It had been a hell of a shitty day, but I’d done the best thing I’d ever done in my life.
I’d saved Wane. I had no idea who I was, or what I was supposed to do, but if it allowed me to save a life like that, I would follow this path to the very end.
21
Lance
Night folded around the cottage, where Hayden, Percy and Wane slept… and her. Could it really be Gwenhwyfar? She, whom I’d given up everything for?
I prowled the woods, wishing I could shift into my lion form to better detect scents and intruders. For the forest to grow quiet around me as it sensed a predator on the prowl, even though lions weren’t usually denizens of this part of the world.
Now that purpose coursed through my veins, I longed to shift. But I couldn’t, and probably never would again.
The price of betrayal.
Percy hadn’t wanted to give me first watch, and I actually understood why, for once. I was distracted, thinking of her instead of paying attention to my surroundings. How could I not?
She looked nothing like Gwen. It wasn’t surprising, as most of us were different too. Different shades of hair, of eyes…but we were basically the same people. Same thoughts, and dreams, and loves.
I stopped stalking the woods and leaned against a tree.
Love.
She’d loved me. Given up her throne for me. Became known as a treasonous queen, not because she didn’t love the king, but because she loved me more.
Even now, centuries after those events, I knew that hadn’t been entirely true. She’d loved him like she’d loved the sun: necessary for life but blinding in its greatness. Arthur had loved her dearly, but the demands of his kingdom had kept him away from her often. She’d needed a husband, not just a king.
Arthur had been my friend, too. I had been his best, most trusted knight, often left behind to guard his beloved queen in his absence. Which was how we’d grown so close, Gwen and I. Until that one evening, when we’d finally given in to our love and lust, and torn apart a kingdom.
Before the thoughts and memories could crush me, I began to run. To burn some of my angst. At her not recognizing me. Not knowing who I was. Not looking at me as she once had.
She would remember. She had to remember. If this was a world where she was meant to be reborn and not Arthur, then this was the world in which we could finally be together, just the two of us.
The cottage suddenly loomed ahead. I turned toward it in my desire to see her again. To let her look at me, just me, and see me for who I was. To have recognition spark in her eyes. For her to welcome me in her arms, without fear of reprisal or consequences.
I headed toward the door, purpose firing my limbs. But before I could enter, a silver wolf with dark, piercing eyes quietly slipped in front of me, barring the door.
“Percival,” I sighed. Of course, he’d only agreed to me taking watch because he intended to keep watch on me. I held up my hands in defeat. “Can I get some sleep before we head out tomorrow?”
He remained seated, and didn’t bother answering me, even though he could just as easily send me a telepathic response.
Stupid wolf.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll sleep
out here.”
I sat on the hard ground, leaned against a rock. Percy didn’t intend to let me out of his sight.
“You’d be a more useful watch if you watched the woods instead of me, you know,” I mumbled as I tried to get comfortable.
Percy could block me from seeing her now, but he couldn’t keep me from her for the full length of our journey back to Avalon.
All I needed to do was spend some time with her, and I was sure she’d remember who I was, and what we meant to each other.
22
Hayden
I kept watch over her as she slept, in case her newly awakening powers hurt her in ways I couldn’t predict. I was a knight of the Round Table, and proud of my mastery of the shield and sword. But I found true pride in my ability to heal. My hands were larger than the norm, but I’d taught myself to be gentle with them. To help others, instead of wounding them.
She shifted and moved the covers off of herself. The room was a bit hot, but it would be wise to make sure no infection had taken hold of her and sparked a fever. I quickly stood up and gently placed my hand on her forehead.
My own hands were warm from being half-asleep, so I leaned in to touch her forehead with my lips. A bit of a crude method, but it was what I’d been taught on Avalon.
My lips touched her forehead, and it felt warm, but not to a worrying degree. As I pulled away, I noticed that her eyes were open, shining in the light of the moon streaming in, still half-filled with sleep.
“I was just checking your temperature,” I whispered, suddenly aware that I loomed over her, and she was half naked, not even a cover on her. I wanted to look down, to see her curves, her long legs, the tantalizing underthings she wore…but I kept my eyes locked on hers.
It was not my place to look, no matter how much I truly wanted to.
I feared she might scream at the sight of me, but instead she smiled, her hand coming up to weave her fingers in my tousled hair.
“You always keep me safe,” she said softly, then pulled me down to her lips.
I couldn’t have resisted if I’d wanted to. As soon as our lips touched, her fingers tightening in my hair, I knew that I was hers. She parted her lips and I did mine, tasting her. Like the fresh sea water that kept Avalon safe, like the morning breeze over the circle of Stonehenge, like a sunrise on a perfect summer day.
My hand wandered down, careful to avoid her injury, settling on her perfect stomach, holding her side. I wanted to reach down and pleasure her, or feel her breasts in my hand, but I stayed there, willing myself to wait.
Her kissing grew less fervent and I pulled away gently. She smiled up at me, her eyes weary with sleep.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she fell back to healing sleep. I stayed over her for a few more moments, my hand on her, the softness of her skin tantalizing me to feel all of her.
I took a deep breath and stood back up, returning to my watch in the corner of her room. All the while, I hoped against hope that she would wake up again and invite me to join her.
I suddenly understood Lance a lot more than I ever believed possible. Whether she was Arthur’s queen or not, I doubted I had it in me to resist her.
23
Arlena
I woke up alone in the room. The taste of Hayden lingered on my lips, my side still warm where he’d laid his hand, trembling slightly at his desire for me.
I smiled at the memory and stretched, my wound no longer hurting. The bandages had been reapplied, and whatever herbs he’d used, they’d worked their magic.
My footing seemed even more firm than earlier in the night, and I grinned at myself in the mirror. I looked a fright, tangled red hair matted to my head, tank top sweat-stained. What a sight. It must have been dark for Hayden to be willing to kiss me!
I headed to the small bathroom connected to my bedroom. A basket sat on the counter, with shampoo, conditioner, and even my favorite makeup, and some fresh clothing that looked like it would fit, all in the dark colors that I preferred.
Whoever had been shopping had paid attention to my size and taste, for which I was grateful. Slipping into clean clothes would be divine, once I’d gotten the layers of sweat and blood off of me.
I hesitated, then pulled off the bandage. It wouldn’t survive the shower, anyway. The wound was fully healed, only a slight discoloration remaining where I’d been wounded. I ran my finger over it, as though not quite believing what the cracked mirror plainly showed. My skin felt smooth and clear.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, trying to see what else was different about me. Or new. Who was the girl staring back at me? Was I really some dead queen, from long ago? A part of me bristled at the thought. It just didn’t feel right. But so much of this did, which was even weirder. I felt safe with Wane, Hayden, Percy and Lance. My feelings for them were growing quickly, much more quickly than I’d ever imagined would be possible.
When Hayden had leaned over me last night, I couldn’t resist the urge to taste his lips. But, truth be told, I’d have kissed any of them.
And I had no idea why. I didn’t really know them and yet, I knew them intimately.
Blue eyes looked at me from the frame of my face, the same as they’d always been… except there was more depth. More flecks of gold. Like something new had sparked to life in me.
Queen.
I chewed on the title, trying to see if it rang as true as the four men did, but it didn’t. Sighing, I hopped in the small shower stall and started scrubbing myself furiously, my stomach rumbling for breakfast. By the time I’d dressed in jeans paired with a black sweetheart top, I could smell bacon wafting in. I quickly combed out my hair and made my way out of the room.
Standing around pondering who I might have been would do me absolutely no good. A hearty breakfast, however, would pick me up.
Percy, Hayden and Wane sat at the table. Lance was nowhere to be found, which disappointed me. Not because I wanted to see him more than the others, but because I wanted to see them all. Like an invisible string connected us all, and I needed them near.
Always.
They saw me coming and stood up as though at attention, bowing slightly. I blushed furious red.
“Please,” I said, “don’t stand on ceremony for me. We still don’t know who I am.”
The three men cast a glance at one another and Percy indicated they should sit. They all looked about the same age, but held themselves so differently. Percy was obviously their leader, his silver hair picking up the silver of his eyes, giving him an otherworldly look. He moved like a wolf, calculating but always keeping an eye on his own.
Wane’s build was wiry - lean, but muscular. He was the only one who sported a beard, his light brown hair cut shorter but still long enough to look messy. His eyes bore specks of yellow, like the falcon I knew he could become. He had an easy smile that was infectious.
Hayden was the biggest of them all, like a bear you just wanted to hug. He wasn’t burly so much as muscular and tall. He moved with purpose and compassion, and his dark brown eyes, the same color as his disheveled hair, invited me in with kindness.
The patio door opened and Lance stepped in. His hair was golden, his eyes black. He walked like he was always a bit too cautious of his surroundings, no matter how casual he tried to look. He joined us at the table.
I sat down and started serving myself from the plates in the middle. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, beans, each looking more delicious than the last.
“My compliments to the chef!” I said, and Wane grinned.
“Least I can do after you saved me,” he said, then looked at my clothes. “I hope the clothing is okay. I’m not much of a shopper.”
“Did you get these for me?” I smiled at him. “They’re perfect.”
“Thanks!” He looked embarrassed for a second. “I just did a quick fly to a nearby store. I left money on the counter.”
I place my hand on his arm in thanks. I’d held him so much yesterday, trying to keep him safe from attac
kers, that it felt strange holding a very human arm.
“Thank you,” I said to him, and then turned to the others. “Thank you all for saving me.”
Wane’s grin deepened. Hayden blushed a bit. Percy nodded, acknowledging his duty. Lance studied me closely, as though trying to see something in me and not quite finding it.
“Why did you save me? And who was that after me? I mean, a giant boar?” I shoved more bacon in my mouth and lifted my eyebrow at Percy, knowing he would be the one to answer for them.
And he did, weaving a tale I had not expected to hear, no matter how ridiculous yesterday had been.
24
Percy
She looked at me, eyebrow slightly raised, asking me to answer her questions. I had so many of my own, but primordial among them: Who are you?
Nothing about her reminded me of Gwenhwyfar. She would never had even touched this food, nor would she have recovered so quickly. She was a good queen, when she played the role, but not an overly active one in court. She took care of gossip, spread just the right amount of kindness to her court, and answered the king’s needs.
But she didn’t ask questions. And her eyes had never looked at me with such cunning as the red-head before me did. I wanted to drown in those eyes. In them, I found quiet pastures and the purpose I’d been seeking all my life.
But she wasn’t mine to have. Couldn’t be. Would never be.
She was my king’s.
“We think you’re Queen Gwenhwyfar,” I said, then added more softly, “our Queen Gwenhwyfar.”