The Citadel of Camelot, Monday, Some Time

[bitchprince]

The past 24 hours had been impossible. Terrifying. Horrible. First there had been Morgause, the female knight. Then the promise of seeing his mother. Then Ygraine, his mother, beautiful and sad, so close--

And then he had found out his father had murdered her. Using magic. Impregnating her with magic. Making him... what did that made him? He did not know.

Now, standing at the entrance to the throne room, his sword still in his hand, his father a broken thing of a man - not physically, no, because Arthur had been dissuaded from giving him the death he so richly deserved. But in every other way possible.

"I denounce you," he spat. "And I will free Camelot from your tyranny. But today, you may live. Know that you owe your thanks to a sorcerer."

And then he turned to his three friends, his jaw set.

[[ for Merlin, Francine and Katchoo. This is our last post with these kids. Waaah. ]]

Comments

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

And look, they saved themselves from a whole slew of insane plots that involved the return, death, return, death again of Lancelot.

Poor, poor Lancelot.

"Arthur--"

[thatsamilkshake]

"Are you okay?" The less important questions -- like And do we need to be worried about somebody burning us at the stake now? More worried than usual, I mean? -- could wait. As could specifying which of her friends Francine was talking to, frankly, since the question was a good one for any of them.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Another thing they'd saved themselves from was the endless, profanity-laden tirades Katchoo would have gone on if they had to deal with those plots. Whatever entertainment value was to be had there wouldn't be worth the eardrum damage in the long run.

But back to the point.

Really, that Katchoo hadn't tried to incite Arthur to further violence or, you know, tried to peel someone's face off herself was a surprise, but some things (like, say, defacing and immolating your stepfather's grave) you had to do for yourself, so she'd been a quietly seething ball of rage. For the record, maintaining the quiet-but-seething aspect of it was exhausting.

"Yes or no'll do," she said in a surprisingly mild (for her) voice. She wasn't going to make him talk it out now.

[bitchprince]

Arthur was silent for a downright unnatural stretch of time. His jaw hadn't unclenched since he had stormed back here in a rage not too long ago; it was likely unhealthy.

Frankly, he was not so certain he should not go back in there and finish the job after all. He did not know where else to go or what else to do, an ember of fury burning still in his gut, a blanket of exhaustion settling rapidly over his mind. Part of him wanted to curl up and cry and do little else.

"Yes," he said, and strode past them, armor and all. "Saddle the horses. We are leaving."

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

Merlin hesitated for a moment before curling one hand around Arthur's arm. Because, show of hands, who thought a hug was a good idea?

No one? No one then.

[thatsamilkshake]

Define 'good idea.' Because...Francine. She managed to stop herself mostly because she figured that for putting up with the emotional armageddon when her father turned out to be a raging jackhole, Arthur deserved the chance to pretend he hadn't just done the manly, jabby, metal-ly version of the exact same thing.

At least until she ran out of baked goods to shove at everyone in lieu of hugs and/or actually saying the words 'raging jackhole' out loud.

"...You think there's time to hit the kitchens before we go? For, um...supplies?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

That face Katchoo was making, the one that was a special mix of 'called it,' 'no, really?' and 'what are you gonna do?' That was her unsurprised face, at least when it came to Francine.

"No objection here."

What? Francine shoving baked goods at people was comforting.

". . . if there's time."

[bitchprince]

Merlin's gesture got... a look. A brief flicker of something in Arthur's eyes that might have been thanks or might have been don't.

"There's no time," he said. "Once my father recuperates he will likely send the knights after us." He didn't actually know that. He just wanted to get out, now. "Let's go."

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

Before Uther was back to the man they knew and were moderately afraid of.

"He's right." Even though baked goods sounded amazing. "We can't waste time."

[thatsamilkshake]

"I guess we can live off what I packed for the last trip." The one to see the sorceress who kind of looked like Katchoo would in about fifteen years. "That's still in the saddlebags."

Though the cookies would last, like...three weeks, tops.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

That the cookies from the last trip might last three weeks was still pretty impressive, Francine.

Katchoo ran a hand through her (even messier than usual) hair. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get our asses in gear."