Arturia ap Pendragon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_once_and_future) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
imperial_stage2012-08-05 01:10 am
the_once_and_future) wrote in imperial_stage2012-08-05 01:10 am
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.]
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.]
courtyard
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
"Wedding? Sir Kay, this is no time for jesting. No-one suitable has stepped forward to claim my hand to become the King-Consort."
no subject
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."
no subject
"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.
no subject
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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
"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."
no subject
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.
Sorry for the late, got sick
"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.
it's okay. I never mind late tags.
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.
no subject
no subject
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.
no subject
"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."
no subject
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?"