imperial_stage | Return of the King of Knights

Return of the King of Knights

Who: Arturia, any Briton, or anyone with a reason to be in Camelot
What: The Queen returns
When: 5 August, early morning
Where: Camelot, either in the courtyard outside the great hall or inside

It was the early hours of dawn, when the city began to wake from its slumber for a new day of work. The medallion of the sun hung low on the horizon, a brilliant magenta as it filtered through the rolling fog along fields of wheat, barley, and rye. Farm hands had just begun to lead their sheep and cattle out to pasture, and squires started their task of tending to the mounts of their knights. Apprentices to various trades were already performing the morning chores their masters tasked them with, occasionally dodging shopkeepers rolling up the curtains over their stalls. It was a day like any other.

It was into this idyll that the small company of knights rode, weary to the bone but none the worse for wear in spite of their previous battles. They had left behind their their families and friends to join the campaign; each knight's spirits were light if for no other reason that they would see their loved ones again. They were exhausted, but at long last, they were home. The Black Company had returned to Camelot.

The knight at their head dismounted with ease and grace, giving Llamrei a fond pat before a somewhat bewildered stable-hand led her away. The company followed suit, awaiting the dismissal of their leader. A final "huzzah!" heralded their departure, eager even in their weariness for their anticipated reunions. Yet, even in this otherwise joyous homecoming, Arturia ap Pendragon frowned slightly as her sea-green eyes scanned the courtyard, as if expecting to find something there that was conspicuously absent. But whatever she expected to see was not to be found.

Though every bit as weary as the knights she commanded, Arturia carefully suppressed any sign of it, deliberately presenting a vision of strength and poise for the sake of the subjects who needed to believe in her. The sovereign must be the rock upon which the kingdom rested; she must not show frailty and must exude all the virtues of chivalry at all times. Their victory must be nothing short of the expected outcome, as natural as the waves against the white shores of Gwaych, the province the Black Company had successfully defended from corruption.

With measured, graceful steps, the Queen of Britain made her way to the great hall.

[OOC: Prose or action tags are fine, whichever is your preference.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A tremendous warrior in white battle-plate, which is as scarred as the man who wears it stands in the great hall, surrounded by a retinue resplendent in the cerulean colors of the warrior-kings of Ultramar. They hold massive, boxy guns of some make at high port, and are girt with gladiuses at their waists. The white-armored warrior keeps a similar weapon, though of older and more battered make locked to his leg-plates, and bears a huge, toothed blade in addition to the gladius, holding a horsetail plumed helm under one arm, and he starts with recognition of Arturia as she approaches, speaking in a deep voice.

"Arturia! You look like you have come from the wars, were you waylaid on the way back from Summer Court?" His gray eyes suggest a certain concern, though his huge, craggy face carries little expression. His bodyguard shows none at all, helms concealing everything behind ceramite and adamantine.

Mid-stride, Arturia froze. The only signs of her shock were the slight widening of her eyes and the colour draining from her face; her face remained a carefully-composed mask of calm. As most of her people did, she knew the legends of the past. Yet, what was before her should have been impossible.

The strange words of "Summer Court" were the least of her worries. Puzzling too was the fact that the guards were not on alert. And where was her seneschal?

"What are your intentions here, Captain?" she subtly demanded evenly yet coldly, drawing herself up even straighter. It was almost as if she didn't recognise him...

"Captain!? It has been a long time since I have been called that title." He looks down at Arturia and rumbles, "Have you taken up history as a study, then, since my announcement a few days ago?"

He doesn't seem to notice the cold reception, his face revealing nothing for the moment, but the microexpression of her paling was a hint that something was amiss, so shifts his weight slightly, a palpable sense of readiness overtaking him. Where before he was just a quiet, waiting figure on a mission of conciliation, to reassure the King and Queen of Britain of his loyalties and the alliance with Rome, he can clearly sense something is amiss.

"I have some familiarity with the legends, nothing more."

A frown broke through her mask, marring the girlish face. In spite of her confusion, the petite knight remained in careful control of her composure.

"I know nothing of this announcement, I fear."

But there was something else that concerned her deeply. This, combined with some of the minor details she had been observing, seemed to be pointing in an entirely troublesome direction. "You speak as if you know me," she ventured cautiously.

"Could it be that you know me only with my helm on, as Nero's bodyguard Cerberus? It was my title, as was the Blade of the Rose Empress, but... you know me now as dictator of Rome. Strange. I was introduced to you some months ago when Nero came to visit you and Arthur."

And now he looks a bit puzzled as well. The readiness seems to dim, just as bit, as he speculates on her condition, "You were not struck by sorcery or some sort of sky-magicks, were you? I know such things can affect the mind, or bring forgetfulness."

His own madness in the Ruins of Istvaan were proof enough of that, for it was in those days that he was first known as Cerberus, the hound that guarded the gates of hell.

The petite blonde carefully suppressed the urge to simply gape at the man as if he'd lost his mind. Nothing he had said made any sort of sense to her; it was a jumble of words that she could understand individually, but together in his sentence, he might as well been speaking another language altogether.

"I do not recall a bodyguard by that name," she replied, this time suppressing a dour expression. While she loved her cousin as family, the queen did not particularly like her. But her personal opinions of Nero's choices were one thing. Why was this man the 'dictator of Rome'? Regardless of Arturia's personal disapproval, her over-dramatic cousin was nevertheless the rightful ruler...and the chivalrous knight despised tyranny. "In other words, you have overthrown my cousin?" she demanded coldly.

With that in mind, Arturia had to be careful; there was already an uneasiness not only within her court, but among the common folk. Had her kingdom been afflicted with a plague of madness...or was there something else?

"I tell you truly, I have been on the outskirts of my kingdom battling the corruption for a year and six months. I have received no news from my capitol since I departed on my campaign."

Edited 2012-08-05 14:13 (UTC)

Loken's own shock manages to seep through slightly in his own expression, which is almost always dour outside of his small circle of councilors and honor brothers. How was this possible? He'd only been brought into this time by a summoning from Nero and Medea a few months ago. For a moment, he bristles with visible anger at the implication he betrayed Nero, his eyes blazing with something akin to fury. "No indeed, the Senate overthrew her, and she remained in Britain with her.... close assistant, Medea, despite my best efforts to make Rome receptive to her return. I slew all the traitors that sent assassins against her, sanctioned those that spoke against her in a particularly disloyal fashion, and maintained Rome as she would have had me do. I came here in part to seek her out for advice on what to do, because I have made a move to weaken the remaining Senators who were oppressing the plebeians in Rome by making them answerable with direct elections."

He shifts his weight, a suggestion of anger in his stance now, "And if you know your history, and your legends, then you know I was the last loyal man in a world of traitors, even as my own blood-father Horus turned against our blood-grandfather, the Emperor of Belka. Do you think I'd so easily sell my loyalty to Nero now, after she became my liege lord?" He locks eyes with her, bold, perhaps, but to question his loyalty and his honor is to question all that the last Luna Wolf has left.

Arturia remained firm, unwavering even in the face of Garviel's anger. But this time, her tone was devoid of its earlier ice, even if not exactly warm; instead, a light note of bewilderment coloured it. It was true about the legends, but certain things didn't add up.

"Why, then, have you taken the title of 'dictator'? Moreover, why has she not been restored to her rightful place, or, if traitors remain, how are you, as a loyal servant, able to maintain your position?"

She dismissed the comment regarding mention of a 'close assistant', which Arturia needed no special insight to decipher. Nero was always selfish when it came to her desires instead of acting responsibly as Arturia believed she should. Instead, the Queen focused on the more pressing matters. There was the fact that if the sovereign of Rome had fled to Britain, where was she now? Though they rarely saw eye-to-eye, Nero would have been present to greet her. "Do you know of her present whereabouts?"

"Because I felt myself unworthy of the title of Imperator. There have only ever been 2 that I acknowledge the Emperor of Belka and the Rose Empress of Rome. The title of dictator is an old term, and in Rome is used in times of great conflict when a final arbiter is needed. It is a role suited only to be filled for a limited time, until a suitable successor can be found, or, as I had hoped, Nero returned. I took the name because it was one that the people of Rome have found acceptable in the past, before the Emperors, and because it appealed to me as a student of history. I would not stand at the same level as the Empress, or the Emperor, but I could stand as a leader in a time of need, with the clear understanding it was only until the crisis had passed."

He pauses, exhaling and inhaling, his face taking on a more grave, and less furious cast, "I do not know where she is. When last I spoke with her, you, or someone with your face and form, had appointed Nero General of Britain's armies, and she showed no desire to return to her duties as the Empress of Rome." He halts, stopping short of offering any criticism of Nero, except perhaps for the implied stain of shirking her duty, but that was unavoidable given the facts of the circumstance. He looks pained now, obviously even speaking this much about his liege lord's possible failings pained him, and the burdensome mantle of ruling a country has weighed heavily on this warrior's shoulders.

It was, she had to admit, a reasonable explanation. Many of "those who dictated orders" had come into their position through usurpation -- the more canny ones claiming they "spoke on behalf of the Emperor". But he was right; the legends spoke of a different sort of man entirely.

A disapproving frown slipped past her otherwise tranquil countenance. Nero was certainly a skilled fighter, but her occasionally reckless behaviour made her unsuitable for such a position. Added to the fact that she had the disposition of a ruler rather than a knight or soldier, the former Empress could not be relied upon to respect the chain of command. That she had abdicated in the face of adversity only further proved that she would be unable to handle such duties. And for the first time, Arturia was disappointed in her cousin. Decadent and egotistical as she was, the Empress had been devoted to her people, a trait she shared with her more proper kin. Only now, as far as the queen was concerned, Nero had abandoned her people...the very same people she had been so devoted to previously. The King of Knights would have hunted her down once court had concluded and given her the lecture of her life had she not been more concerned with Nero's disappearance.

"I fear some deliberate misfortune has befallen her," she mused. Inquiries would have to be made. But until then, she thoughtfully regarded Rome's more recent ruler. In more auspicious times, the queen would have met with her advisers to consider all possibilities. But with Rome in such a precarious position, the situation called for immediate and decisive action.

"It may very well be that you are Rome's sovereign, given the circumstances. The people need someone to guide them, now more than ever. You have proven that, for whatever misgivings you might have, you have the capacity to lead them. I cannot officially recognise you until my court has convened, however, know that you shall have Britain's backing."

"I suspect you may be right. I have a link to her.... but of late it has somehow faded. It was my hope to pick up the trail here, and find and help her before it was too late."

He conceals his own concern. With his Master gone, Loken may not have much time left. So strengthening the ties between Rome and Britain were his only priority. "As far as recognition, I understand. Amestris and Sawa seem to be about to have a rupture, I watched the two co-Emperors and their treatment of each other closely, and I have... friends among the Sawan nobles that indicated things are about to take a turn for the worse. I came here to tell you to prepare for the possibility of a war within Dagaria, but you look to have just come from a fight against the Rift. Tell me, what sort of foes have you been fighting?"

"A link, you say?" That would have been very useful...had it not faded. The admission did not assuage her worries.

Yet, she could not allow her personal fear for her kin to override her first priority: protecting her kingdom. "I have. Nearly two years ago, we received reports from the islands off the coast of Gwaych. I was able to mobilise the Black Company to address the situation. However..."

Her brow wrinkled in worry, the first time her mask at least partially dropped. "These abominations seem to be stronger than before. It is almost as if they are adapting..."

And with that, the mask was restored. "All of these problems must be addressed at court. Though, I do have some concerns..." But at this point, Arturia was uncertain that they would believe that she was the true Queen of Britain. Caliburn should have been proof enough, and surely her imposter would not have...

Without warning, she paled, her eyes widening in shock. There was only one person with that command of illusion, and the possibility chilled her to the very bone.

"Indeed, but it is now gone." He shakes his head, a bit of the emotional and physical loss of his master momentarily bleeding into his expression, mostly around his eyes.

"If you need aid, I have raised a force specifically to fight the Rift Abominations known as the Crusade Company. They are from all over Dagaria, and I have seen fit to let Jeanne D'arc command them when I am occupied with my duties in Rome. I will send word to her, if there are still battles left to be fought."

He notices her paling, and is momentarily bemused, for Garviel is unable to feel fear entirely, it having been removed from his palette of emotions by conditioning and magical means. He assumes only shock, and perhaps disgust, and says to Arturia, "Something is wrong?"

The flicker of emotion did not go unnoticed. Whatever their relationship had been, the ancient warrior had cared for her cousin.

"We shall find her," she reassured him. "Whether or not she decides to return to her duties, she shall be found....and rescued, if need be."

Though the name was unfamiliar, the queen took a small amount of comfort that there was some manner of organisation to deal with the problem. "That is most welcome news," she commented. "We have eradicated the immediate threat, but I fear that more will reveal themselves presently."

But this particular issue put Arturia in a very difficult position. To reveal that she had apparently been impersonated during her absence was enough to cause unrest among the people. But the identity of that person would be enough to start widespread panic.

Arturia took a few moments before she spoke again, her demeanour grave. "I...have my suspicions as to the identity of my potential impersonator. If confirmed, it is a most serious matter.

"I am, however, at a loss. To reveal too much would throw my kingdom into disarray... as it is, I am uncertain if the news of my impersonation can be contained."

Garviel nods his head, somewhat reassured by her words. They are spoken like those of Sigismund the Black Knight, First Templar and Champion of his blood-uncle Lord Dorn, who Loken resembled in temperment in many ways more than his dramatic, flashy blood father, Horus Lupercal. To speak to Arturia is similar to speaking to an honor brother in the old days, and that is something that he can appreciate.

"More threats always will present themselves, until the Rift is closed. I suspect we'll always see corruption trickling forth slowly most of the time, with the occasional wave of foulness washing over the Riftguard countries."

Her words about the question of the impostor strike a chord in the grizzled Astartes, and he pauses, choosing his words carefully. "You have the oaths of myself and my brothers that none shall hear of this from us, until you give us leave to speak the truth. I... understand how difficult it is to known a dangerous truth, and be unable to spread it without causing a wider panic." He halts for a moment after that, thinking back to his undertaking to Aldurukh, and the mixture of treachery and loyalty that he'd found there, most of all he remembers the horror of seeing one loyal warrior of the Emperor cut another loyal knight down because of the need for secrecy. "My heart urges me to tell you to keep honor and tell as much of the truth as you can, and all of it if you dare. However, I have a suggestion. If you can find, expose, and properly sanction your impersonator before the news has spread too widely, or when you officially proclaim what has happened here that may well mitigate the effect. I am by nature a line soldier, a Captain of warriors, unschooled in the intricacies of politics, but I've been forced to learn how to handle..." Another pause, "Public opinion of late. Presenting your people with both the cause of their uncertainty and a properly punished criminal at the same time may wall prove to be advantageous, because it will reinforce your position as a strong and just ruler, even under difficult circumstances."

Garviel frowns, aware of a possible breach in protocol and says, "Forgive me, that must seem presumptuous. I am a warrior, and I speak to you as a warrior, but you are a monarch and I must honor and respect that." He bows deeply, in a gesture that seems apologetic somehow, bowing enough so that his fairly massive form, bulked out by his armor, is at least briefly bowing below Arturia's chin, somewhat dimunitive in size though she is compared to him."

Edited 2012-08-06 15:24 (UTC)

Though she surrounded herself with knights pledged to her code, conversing with others who adhered to similar principles -- even if not precisely the same -- was always a welcome way to pass the time. Or it would have been, had not the situation been as dire as it was. "I agree. Purging the existing corruption will not be enough...but has there been any word on how to close the Rift?"

His oath only further cemented her favourable opinion, as did his assessment, and Arturia found no fault with it. With a slight shake of her head, she made to reassure his concerns of speaking out of turn. "I value any advice, regardless of the source. However, you are now my equal. It is no breach of protocol to offer suggestions."

She paused for a brief moment, casting a quick glance around. There were no others in the immediate area, though the petite knight was ever-cautious. "Walk with me."

She ventured further into the great hall, towards the back beside the hearth. There, she could project an image of merely conversing while being away from prying eyes. Though chivalry was the law of her land, the queen could not afford to be naive when it came to treachery. And it was only when she was certain she would not be overheard that she revealed what she feared.

"In truth, I am the second child of my mother. My older half-sister is a sorceress without equal, but one who despises me thoroughly and seeks to undermine my rule at every opportunity. Her name is Morgan le Fay, and she is nothing if not dangerous."

"No, but I have a mind to ask the Arcaniss Institute if such a thing is possible. They managed to cure a plague in Dagaria with significant cooperation from the magical community, enlisting them in this endeavour ought not to be too difficult, particularly if I offer them permanent facilities in Onylith."

He walks with her, and while reassured by her words of equality, it would seem he is used to standing as an advisor in court, and a battle-captain in the field.

His face and form is cast into shadow as he looks away from the hearth for a moment. Arturia has taken him into her confidence in a significant way with such an admission, so he shares one with her, "I have known such strife with my kinsmen as well. My own mournival brothers slew each other at Istvaan, before the end. That is where my story ends, historically, though it was not the end of my life. Do you know where we could seek her out, to establish whether or not this was her doing, and to bring her to trial if it was?"

Edited 2012-08-07 03:28 (UTC)

She allowed a slight, thoughtful sigh to escape her lips. "We can only continue to act defensively for so long. Each time we dispatch one army, another takes its place. I fear we will eventually be worn down unless a more permanent solution is found."

As to his question regarding the whereabouts of her half sister, Arturia shook her head slightly. "I am certain she maintains a stronghold in some location within Britain, or just beyond its borders. Yet...I can only guess that it is guarded by strong spells that prevent it from being found.

"Moreover, she appears to move about the kingdom; I have received reports throughout my reign of strange magic, the sort that only she would know."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I am certain she plots within her walls. Of this, however, I have no proof."

Edited 2012-08-10 15:08 (UTC)

"I have an idea regarding that, and a weapon with which to enact an assault against the Rift, when the time comes, but the practical concern of how to mend the rift must be addressed before I shed the blood of Rome, or the Blood of the Crusade company to attack it, or there will be no lasting victory."

He nods, and seems inclined to say more, to sympathize from his own history, but thinks better of it, instead, standing silent and stoic. He simply looks at Arturia, trying to puzzle out what he can from her stance, her armor, her blade. Trying to see if there are differences in body language between the seeming impostor that he knew, and the real King of Knights.

Arturia nodded. Though only a vague start, it was a solid foundation. "I will commit Britain once a way has been found, but it must be found first. Until then, we must continue to be on guard against this corruption."

Perhaps there was; though she was true royalty by blood, Morgan had not had the years of training to lead a kingdom. By contrast, it had been drilled into the young queen since birth that even the simple stance of a monarch must exude proper regal bearing, project an image of strength for the people to look up to.

It was the way that only a queen could carry herself, the bearing of a person who understood that she was always on display.

"I believe we have an understanding then. I will bid you good day, and good luck in putting things to rights here. You have the oaths of me and my men already, so I expect we'll see each other again soon enough, in the field or at court."
He frowns, then decides to bow, clearly unsure of how to excuse himself from the presence of an equal. Most of the time he just says what he has to, then strides out, not thinking highly of Sawa or Amestris' ruler, seeing the regent of the Nameless states as a boy to be watched over, and seeing Char as a brother in arms, with all the easy comradeship and lack of formality that such a thing entailed. After the bow, he and his retinue begin to slowly withdraw, unsure if turning their backs on the King of Knights would be considered an insult, the armored sons of Ultramar walk a bit awkwardly back after their own bows.

"Halt."

Kay stood at the door, serving in place of the porter. None of the regular porters could be found on this day. She would have to remember to give them some raps on the head and shoulders later for making her assume their work.

"What manner of man comes here?"

The answer seemed to be almost obvious. It was her King and the king's knights returning to Camelot. But Kay had seen many manners of things during her years as a knight. Just from various magical mishaps alone, she knew that one could not tell an individual by mere appearance. She would need some proof before she could allow anyone, even the King, to enter the hall.

With the most impassive mask she could muster, Arturia simply held up Caliburn, the sacred Sword of the Kings of Britain. Kay was taking her duties seriously enough -- which was good -- but there was one problem. Her presence.

Given, a year and a half was a considerable amount of time. But Kay's task was an indefinite one, a form of reprimand for her not-quite breaches of chivalry. The only reason that the knight should have returned was to signal a warning of encroaching Rift corruption.

"What has brought you back to Camelot, Sir Kay? Does the corruption threaten the kingdom from the farthest reaches, as well?" she asked, her face remaining deceptively passive.

"My liege."

Kay steps aside and curtsies. The shining sword is proof enough of the King's identity.

"The corruption has yet to reach Britain at this moment. But it is not the activity of the rift that brings me back."

Standing face-to-face with her king, Kay almost wonders if she has made the wrong choice.

"It was the rumor of your wedding."

Just this once, Kay had acted as a sister and not a knight. Familial love had overtaken her sense of loyalty. She wanted see the bride, and to see if they would be worthy of her King.

"I beg your forgiveness for this insubordination, but I could not help but be concerned about this."

She stops speaking at this point. The King knows her well enough to guess her reasons.

For a few moments, there was no reaction from the King of Knights at all. And then, the jade eyes went wide, her mouth opening just slightly. The shock had been enough for the regal mask to shatter for that brief moment.

"Wedding? Sir Kay, this is no time for jesting. No-one suitable has stepped forward to claim my hand to become the King-Consort."

"Queen Consort, my liege. From her appearance, she is a regal-looking woman, but I have not associated with her long enough to know what she is truly like."

She had seen the woman but once, and even then, she had not been able to speak to her because of all the confusion caused by the two versions of her King. Of course, it also mattered not that this new consort was female. As long as her King was happy and safe, Kay had no complaints.

However, she in turn is confused by the King's confusion. Surely, the King would know something about this. Then again, given all the general confusion in the castle...

"Or perhaps I was mistaken. After all, there was...a copy of your majesty in the castle."

A copy whose figure was a little too well-developed.

"Perhaps she was the one being engaged to be married."

At that point, it was obvious to the King of Knights that Kay was attempting to play an elaborate prank on her. And while she encouraged levity among her knights as a form of boosting morale -- so long as it was not malicious -- she had needed to remain apart from such games as the queen. A long-forgotten part of her wished that she could partake, to truly bond with her loyal servants, but the people needed a flawless, ideal queen to trust in.

"Sir Kay, you are aware of the rules. I cannot be the subject of pranks, and my dignity must be preserved for the good of the kingdom."

As for her mention of a copy, she had been informed that Nero had taken up residence in her kingdom. But there were enough differences between the two that most people could tell them apart easily in a matter of minutes. The boisterous nature of the Empress of Rome never stayed suppressed for long.

"Ah, perhaps you speak of my cousin. She would be the sort of make that sort of...decision," she said carefully. As incorrigible and self-centred as she was, her cousin was nevertheless her kin.

"And you are aware of my personality, my liege. I would not prank you on a matter so serious. Nor would I do it in the presence of your knights. Unlike some of those serving under you, I am not an undisciplined hooligan."

Though it does not show on her face, she is a little disappointed. She would expect such accusations to be directed at other knights, but not one that the King knew so well. Even disregarding the fact that they had grown up together, was Kay not the best maid in Britain?

"Cousin? Are you speaking of one of your biological relations? I was unaware that one of them would look so much like your majesty. I only wish that you had graced me with an explanation before departing for Summer Court."

Had Arturia lacked the discipline she had -- to say nothing of her need to present the image of the perfect and even-tempered queen -- she would have glared at her adopted sister and commended sourly on the numerous times she had done just that during their childhood. Instead, the petite knight merely tilted her head slightly, as if considering something.

"Then...considering the circumstances, it must have been my cousin, the Rose Empress of Rome you noticed. In truth, I have only just returned from my campaign in the East."

But Kay's next comment baffled her, though only the hint of a puzzled frown made it past the regal mask. "Court has not yet convened...I am about to do so now that I have returned."

"...My liege, are you truly unaware of the Summer Court in the Imperial City?"

Kay frowns. Something strange is going on, and she has a hunch that she would not like the answer. She is so focused on this that she ignores the fact that she probably offended the Rose Empress on the first day of her return.

"Please, I implore you to answer me honestly. My liege, were you or were you not in Camelot alongside the Rose Empress when I first returned?"

Together with her seneschal's absence, Kay's words were becoming more troubling by the moment.

"I have heard no word from the Imperial City since our departure a year and six months ago," Arturia said slowly, her stoic mask becoming grim with her concern. "I was not present for your return, I fear."

"Then...who was that?"

Try as she might, Kay cannot keep her voice from shaking. Someone or something had been in her King's--her sister's form inside the castle. And Kay had been completely deceived. Something had impersonated Arturia to the point that even Kay could not tell the difference.

"If it was truly an imposter, then please, forgive me. I was unable to recognize them as such."

She inches closer to Arturia. Part of her wants to wrap the younger woman in a hug, to confirm that this time, her King is real. But she stifles the impulse. It would not be behavior befitting a knight or a maid.

Arturia gestured for her adopted sister to follow her inside, taking an almost immediate right into an empty side-room, closing the door after it. Not even a servant would overhear them in the secluded spot.

"I have no proof of it...but I believe Morgan le Fay has returned. Only she would possess knowledge of and effectively wield such magic. Mere illusion would not fool you, dear sister, who has known me all my life. She must have used charm spells, as well."

Her mask had dropped somewhat, Arturia's expression had changed from neutral to grave.

Edited 2012-08-10 15:17 (UTC)

"Impossible."

For the moment, Kay is too shocked to be properly angry.

"Merlin should have been able to detect her."

Unless Merlin too had been compromised. Just the thought of it chills her to the bone. The usual smile had long since faded from her face, replaced by a grim expression.

"So I had believed," Arturia replied grimly with a slight nod. "However, I have been unable to find either him or the seneschal I entrusted. It does not bode well."

"Even Merlin..."

Merlin, the Wizard who had first declared Arturia King. Merlin, the one who had stood by Camelot during good and ill. Merlin, whose enchantments protected the land...

...And he was gone.

"How many knights are still accounted for? And what of the household staff?"

There were at least a few familiar faces, but at this point, she is not sure what can and cannot be believed.

"Should they be disciplined? Or interrogated to see if they know anything about Morgan's schemes?"

The smile is back on her face, but unlike the calm one that she wore before, this was a smile that promised terrible things.

Kay was, she had to admit, a little too hotheaded. Arturia had hoped having the responsibilities of a knight would cool her proverbial heels, but in some ways the position had gone to her head. Perhaps some training was in order at a later time.

"As of this moment, I must make an account of the court, beginning with the garrison. Those who are absent must be accounted for, though refrain from assumptions."

Training would definitely be on the agenda once things had settled down. "No. They should merely be accounted for...I shall conduct investigations once my decision is made on how to present this to the kingdom."

In Kay's own mind, this assumption was not hot-headed. If anything, it was cold--a cold-hearted suspicion of everyone else. Even she, at times, found her own actions to be on the cruel side. Sometimes, she did wish she could stop suspecting others of either incompetence or betrayal. Heaven knows it would have made her more friends!

But for her, this ruthlessness was all part of her duty. She had to compensate for her King. Her noble, innocent, and pure King who, if anything, could be too trusting or forgiving.

"Understood."

Her killing intent mostly disappears. She knows that the King is being cautious, but it still strikes her as a little too merciful.

"Shall I prepare your toilet and clothing? Or perhaps your meat and chamber?"

An exhausted-looking young lady, still recovering from Summer Court, greeted the monarch once she was within the castle.

"Welcome back, Your Majesty," she said with a sleepy bow...before noticing that something is odd here.

"Er...did you just get back from Court, my lady? And do your hair differently?" she asked as politely as she could. A part of her noticed that, under the queen's usual impressive aura, something felt...different, and she was trying rather poorly to define it.

The knight's carefully-composed mask remained firmly in place; not even a knit of her brows revealed her inward bemusement.

"Court has not yet convened," she replied evenly, with no indication that she even knew there had been a Summer Court.

Normally, an attendant would have received petitions or grievances, and Arturia preferred to maintain a deliberate distance in order to reassure the people that she was an impartial queen who eschewed favouritism. But now that the unfamiliar young woman was there, diplomacy was in order.

"Was there an issue you wished to address?"

"N-no, not really," Kusuha said, deferentially, "although I think one of us is confused. Um, it must be me."

But if Summer Court hadn't convened yet, why had she been in Imperial City getting beaten up by Lancer and Utena?

"Um...that is, in the interest of being a better knight, was there a battle I missed?" she asked. Normally things like that aren't a problem when you have a gift related to clairvoyance, but Kusuha knew enough to know that you never really know.

Arturia remained puzzled, but decided against prying. However, a part of her was worried; there seemed to me more going on than a simple misunderstanding.

That worry was confirmed a moment later at something that should have been common knowledge. "We were on a campaign against the creatures of the Rift," she explained. "Even in the event you were not present for the announcement of my seneschal, certainly another would have spoken of it."

A slight, puzzled frown marred her mask as she glanced at the people in the courtyard. Their reactions to her return had been normal, as if she had been gone for a mere week instead of over a year....

"Oh. A campaign..."

Kusuha may have been new to the whole military thing, but she was fairly certain you had to be gone for at least an entire season for it to count as a campaign, and the Rift had been fairly quiet since the mess with Avshar, at that.

"Er, how long was it you were gone for, your majesty?"

Arturia nodded. "Yes. I had anticipated being gone from the kingdom for a while, and so I had assigned a seneschal..."

Jade eyes left Kusuha's briefly to glance around once more. "..However, I seem to be unable to find him."

Which was troubling, but even more so that the knowledge of her campaign seemed to be non-existent. "I have been absent for a year and six months," she explained.

If Arturia's paying attention, she'll notice another girl in armor, waiting at the gates for an audience with her. Utena's armor is shabby and oxidized so badly it's hard to tell what the metal was originally. There are leaves in her hair. Clearly she's traveled a ways to be here and hasn't had more than a country stream to bathe in since. A hedge knight if there ever was one.

If acknowledged, she'll bow. "Your grace, I have heard of your foundation of the knights of the round table. I have come to ask to join."

But perhaps she's been paying attention and recognizes the girl who led the van for the Crusade Company when they drove out the dragon raiders.

Green eyes flickered to the girl with the appearance of a knight errant, though she concealed her bewilderment. As far she could remember, there were no such knights in her retinue. Though she acknowledged the presence of a knight, it was clear that there was no recognition in her eyes.

Yet, it was clear to her that the knight was not simply present to greet her return. But once she heard the request, Arturia could not refrain from blinking in shock. The formation of the Round Table had been a proposal she had meant to present to the court over a year ago before she left on her campaign! How could this girl have known of it?

"My court is about to convene, during which I will present my proposal of the formation of the new order. It will remain open to any knight who proves himself or herself."

Utena cocked her head. The king seemed to be shocked. Had she come too early? Was she keeping her from royal business?

"I will pass any test put forth for me." She grinned. She was made for the passing of tests. Well one test in particular, but it was easy to go from that to almost any other kind. "I thank you, your grace." She bowed and got out of the way of the royal retinue, ready to hear the official proclamation when she announced it at the court.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Return of the King of Knights

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Sorry for the late, got sick

No worries.

no subject

no subject

courtyard

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Sorry for the late, got sick

it's okay. I never mind late tags.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject