by J A Cummings
“That’s better.” She smiled. “You’re fey touched now, you know.”
He looked at her and chuckled again. “I know. I remember.”
“No, I’m talking about something else, beyond the obvious. To be fey touched is to have a fey creature initiate a bond with you. You’re forever marked as being beloved by the fey, and you gain some of our special abilities.”
He was intrigued. “Really? Like what?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll be stronger or something. Time will tell.”
Arthur shifted so that he could look into her face. “You initiated a bond with me?”
“Of course. If you’re going to be my husband, we have to be joined on a soul level, don’t we? Otherwise, the commitment isn’t as deep as it could be.”
He kissed her gently. “That makes me very happy,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
Guinevere kissed him back. “I’m glad you’re happy, because I can’t undo it.”
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
She smiled. “Good.” There was a knock on the door, and before he could respond, she called, “Come in.”
Arthur scrambled to cover himself as the door opened, admitting a smiling Sir Brastias. “Are you going to sleep the day a - good Lord.”
Guinevere, entirely unashamed, lounged decadently against Arthur’s side, her nudity on full display. She told their host, “He’s busy.”
Brastias kept his eyes turned away from the bed. “Your Highness, I didn’t expect to see you here, or to … Arthur, it’s time for sword work…”
“I won’t be working with you and Griflet today.”
“Right.” Their host left the room awkwardly, closing the door behind himself in such a rush that he caught his boot in the jamb. He pulled his foot free and shut the door the rest of the way while Guinevere laughed.
“You’d think he’d never seen a woman before.”
“Well, I can assure you that he’s never seen a woman like you.” He slid from the bed, suddenly aware of the lateness of the day.
The princess pouted briefly, then said, “Come with me to bathe in the river. I’ll show you some fun things to do in the water.”
Arthur blushed, intrigued but knowing that he could not agree. “I would love to learn that, but I need to see to things.”
“What things?” she asked, rising from the bed in one sinuous motion. “What could possibly be more important than having sex with me?”
“That’s a very good question,” he admitted. “And I’m sure I don’t know the answer. I only know that I have to see Brastias and make certain that… that…”
She nodded. “All right. I understand. It’s daylight, so you’ve gotten shy.” She picked up her shift and pulled it on. “I’ll leave you to do whatever it is you need to do, and I’ll tell Leo that I accept the invitation you never actually gave me.”
Arthur took a deep breath, and she looked at him impishly through the corners of her eyes. He tugged on his clothes and got down on one knee before her, feeling embarrassed and foolish. He took her hand in both of his and looked into her deep blue eyes.
“Your Highness, Princess Guinevere… will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”
She bent and kissed him, then teased, “I’ll think about it.”
“Gwen!”
“Gwen?” she echoed. “That’s not my name.”
He blushed. “It’s not meant to disrespect you. It’s a token of affection.”
The sea nymph princess looked down at him and shrugged. “If you say so… Art.”
The young king grimaced. “Oh, I don’t like that one.”
“I don’t like Gwen.”
“I won’t call you that again,” he promised.
“Good.” She kissed him on the lips again, and as she pulled away, she said, “And I will only call you Arthur.”
“Thank you.”
“Unless something more amusing presents itself, of course.” He rose to his feet as she made her way to the door, her hips swaying as she strolled. She opened the door and turned to face him. In a calm voice, as if she were discussing the weather, she said simply, “The answer to your question is yes.”
He grinned at her like an idiot, and she left his room, gliding down the hallway to her bower.
Arthur joined the sword practice halfway through, receiving a peevish glare from Griflet as he arrived. He knew there were many reasons for that unhappy look, and he had sorrow of his own where Griflet was concerned. It was strange, he thought, that he could be so thrilled at his betrothal to Princess Guinevere and still so sad about the end of his affair with the handsome young knight.
Brastias showed them the fine points of the blade, but it was clear that there was more on their minds than footwork and the application of a keen edge. Arthur felt almost guilty when their host put his sword back in its sheath and walked away, muttering.
“Where are you going?” Griflet called after him.
“You two talk out what you need to talk out, and we’ll work again later.” He shook his head. “Shield mates.”
Griflet turned toward Arthur, his face darkened with a scowl. Arthur sighed. “You know what happened,” the king said simply.
Griflet nodded. “The whole damned keep knew what happened. That woman can howl. Apparently, you tickled her fancy well enough. Are you proud?”
“As a matter of fact, I was proud. I seem to recall someone else who’s been known to let out a cry or two.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was acting.”
“Liar,” Arthur retorted. The knight turned on his king, his face scarlet. His sword was in his hand, the point parallel to the ground, and the hand holding it shook. Arthur looked at the blade, then at Griflet. “Are you going to point it, or are you going to use it? You can say whatever you want, but when you bring weapons into it, you cross a line.”
It obviously took some doing, but the knight mastered his anger and put his sword in its scabbard. He ground out, “I wouldn’t attack you, my liege.”
“Good.” He watched as Griflet paced tightly away from him. “You ended it, you know. You said it was over. You have no right to be angry now.”
“Don’t I? The corpse wasn’t even cold, and you were hopping into her bed.”
“If there was a corpse, you’re the one that killed it.”
Griflet turned to face him again, still angry. “What else was I supposed to do? Sit back and just be your bit on the side, the person you go to when you want to cheat on your wife?”
“If you really loved me,” Arthur said, regretting the words immediately, “yes.”
Merlin appeared out of mid-air and in mid-stride, walking across the green toward their practice ring. He had a curious and knowing look in his blue eyes, and Arthur wished he would go away. He knew there was no such luck to be had.
Griflet saw that Arthur was looking past him, and he turned to see what had captured his king’s attention. When Griflet saw Merlin, Arthur noticed that his cheeks went pale. He turned his back on the king and stalked away, leaving the ring altogether.
“What’s going on?” the druid asked, leaning against the fence that encircled the sandy practice area.
“Nothing,” Arthur grumbled. He checked the edge of his blade and ran his thumb over a few new nicks. He would have to sharpen the sword again to get them out.
“It looked like more than nothing,” Merlin said, cajoling. “Talk to me.”
The young king sighed. “Griflet has ended our affair.”
“Oh.” The druid sounded surprised and saddened. “Did he say why?”
“He knows I have to marry, and he’s jealous. He hates that I’m attracted to Princess Guinevere, and he’s very angry that… well…” He looked at Merlin almost guiltily. “I slept with her last night.”
Merlin’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “Truly?”
“Yes. She’s very… assertive.”
“She’s a sea nymph. Sexuality is a pastime for them.” He smiled.
“Did you enjoy her?”
Arthur broke into a wide smile. “Immensely.”
“Good.” Merlin smiled back, but the expression failed to reach his eyes. “Have you decided to wed her?”
Arthur left the ring and headed toward the barn, and Merlin followed after him. The druid watched as he picked up the whetstone and set to work removing the chips and burrs from his blade. “We decided to wed each other,” he said, because the distinction seemed important. “I asked her for her hand, and she said yes.”
“That’s excellent news,” Merlin said, smiling. “You will have to watch her carefully, though. Nymphs do not make good wives.”
“She will.”
“We’ll see.” He watched Arthur’s hands moving for a while, then said, “She brings quite an alliance for your young realm, my king. With the faery armies of the Fey Lands and Dal Riada supporting you, there will be no force that can oppose you.”
“Will they support me?” he asked.
“Unless you fight another fey creature, yes.” Merlin looked at him. “So… you have a bride-to-be and an ex-lover under the same roof. That sounds uncomfortable.” Arthur nodded but did not speak. “Do you want me to get Griflet to go back to Viroconium?”
“No. He’s still my chamberlain. I need to learn to live with him… we need to learn to live with each other with our affair behind us.” He sighed. “It isn’t fair, though. He ended it last night so quickly, and so abruptly. It just didn’t seem right.”
Merlin shrugged. “Perhaps he’d been thinking about ending it for some time, but your infatuation with Guinevere provided him with an excuse. You know that he’s said in the past that he prefers the company of ladies.”
Arthur put the whetstone aside. “Merlin, did I coerce him? I don’t think I did. I thought he was with me because he wanted to be. It’s so hard to tell now, with the way he’s acting and the things he says.” He sighed. “If I’m king, people will do what they think I want, whether it’s pleasing to them or not. What happens if I think someone wants me, but he doesn’t, and I hurt him?”
The druid went to him and put his hands on his shoulders. “You are talking about a thing you would never do. You are more sensitive to your lovers than that, and you would never compel anyone into your bed. If a man comes to you and offers to be your lover, it is because he wants you, not because he’s trying to appease you, or because he thinks that’s what you’ve ordered him to do.”
“How can I be sure?”
Merlin smiled sadly. “You can’t. You simply have to trust your instincts in every situation. There are signs that men give when they don’t really want something, and signs they give when they really do. You have to learn those signs so you don’t make a mistake.” Arthur nodded, and the druid said, “If you’re getting married, though, that’s all immaterial.”
“Not really.”
“Oh?”
He almost blushed as he answered, “Guinevere said she didn’t mind if I still had male lovers. It’s only female lovers that she would object to.”
“Understandable about the females, and surprisingly magnanimous about the males. Will you take her up on the offer?”
He shook his head. “If she’s bound to be faithful at risk of being accused of treason, then I should be faithful to her, too. If I look outside my marriage at another man, he will have to be truly extraordinary. Nobody else could pull my attention away from her.”
Merlin wore a pensive expression, then said quietly, “May you not find that truly extraordinary man until the time is right.”
Arthur looked at him askance. “You know something,” he quietly accused.
“I know many things, my lord.”
The door to the kitchen clattered open, and a maid rushed to the river with a bucket, a look of panic on her young face. Arthur called out to her, “What is it?”
“Lady Garwen,” she said. “Lady Garwen!”
Merlin commented, “She must be in labor.”
“Should you go to her?”
He shook his head. “She has a midwife, and I only get involved in childbirth when things go very, very wrong.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “When will you and Guinevere marry?”
“I don’t know. I think I need to speak to King Leodegrance about that. He is her guardian, after all.”
“I’m well aware.” He straightened and looked at the king. “I went to Caer Gai to see your brother.”
“How is he?”
“Unwell. He’s still grieving the loss of your father and the end of his romance with Lionors.”
Arthur felt a strange flicker of emotion at the mention of the princess’s name. She was carrying his child. It still felt unreal to him.
Merlin seemed to read his thoughts, for he said, “I also called on Lionors. She is doing well, and the baby seems to be growing at a good pace. He’ll be a strong child.”
“He?”
The druid shrugged. “Or she.”
The young king nodded. “I wish I could be there when he’s born.”
“Perhaps you can. You’ll be in Cambria at that time.”
“In Cambria?” Arthur echoed doubtfully.
“Yes. We’re going to Caer Gai for Yule -”
“Truly? That’s wonderful!”
“- so it would be easy to make it to Ceredigion by Imbolc, when she should be giving birth.”
“She may not want me there. I’m the reason Kay abandoned her.”
Merlin looked sour. “Kay is the reason Kay abandoned her, his stupidity and his stiff-necked pride. She told me that she would not keep your child from you. Perhaps one day you can have them both in your castle with you as part of your household.”
“What castle?” Arthur asked. “I have no castle. I barely have a kingdom.”
“Give it time, my king. All will be well, and when the time is right, your castle and your kingdom will be the envy of the world.”
“I don’t want to be envied,” he said softly. “I just want to be able to give my wife and children a good home.”
Merlin smiled at him. “Do you love Princess Guinevere so soon, Arthur?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know if love can happen that quickly, but if I don’t love her already, I will love her soon.” He smiled, feeling a nervous, giddy sensation in his head. “She’s extraordinary.”
“So she is.”
They walked together toward the keep. The maid dashed past them with the bucket of water, headed for the kitchen to boil it over the open cooking flame. They went into the keep through the kitchen door, avoiding the chaos that attended the impending birth of their hostess’s child. Merlin accompanied Arthur to the armory, which was lined with armor and weapons of every description, collected during Brastias’s long years on campaign with Uther Pendragon.
Arthur picked up a particularly evil-looking barbed trident and looked at Merlin quizzically. The druid said, “That is an Unseelie trident, used by the sea nymphs of the Unseelie court.”
“Unseelie?”
“The dark faery. As I told you before, there are two kingdoms of faery, the Seelie and the Unseelie. The Unseelie have their own kingdom, separate from the kingdom we call the Fey Lands.” He nodded toward the weapon. “That is one of their weapons.”
He put the trident back on the rack that had held it. “I don’t know much about the faery, or about sea nymphs in particular. What should I know?”
Merlin considered, and he took Arthur to a bench by the room’s fireplace and sat him down. He settled beside him, and Arthur could tell from the look on his mentor’s face that he was about to get an earful.
“You should know that her instincts will be stronger than her logic, and she will not always behave in ways that make sense to you. That’s true of every woman, but with a sea nymph, the trouble is much more acute. She will sometimes make you frustrated and you will not always understand the way her mind works. Just remember that she is closer to the natural world than humans are, and so
her actions and reactions are driven by her body as much as by her mind, like with an animal.”
He was aghast. “An animal! Merlin, that’s insulting.”
“No, it’s not. It’s the truth. In time, you’ll see what I mean.” He smiled. “Don’t ever try to control her. Work with her, compromise, negotiate. Don’t control. That is the surest way to drive her affections away from you.”
Arthur nodded. “I don’t want to control anyone.”
“Oh, there will be people you will need to control, and you’ll learn to recognize them. Until then, I will be at your side to help you determine who needs to be controlled and which people you can work with.” He nodded almost to himself. “Guinevere and her ilk are wild creatures at heart. You cannot control them, not ever.”
“I understand.”
Merlin smirked. “Not yet, but you will in time.”
Arthur rose and went to examine an exotic recurved bow. “What does it mean to be fey touched?”
The druid looked alarmed, which startled Arthur. He was not expecting that reaction. After a moment, Merlin said, “It’s when a fey creature bonds with a human being and leaves a spiritual mark on them, down to the soul. It’s something that all other fey will be able to detect, and it will make the human less desirable to them, probably because that human has already been ‘claimed,’ so to speak. It’s similar to a demonic mark, or a brand on cattle.”
“I’ve never heard of a demonic mark,” he said, musing. “Is it a good thing or a bad thing to be fey touched?”
“I can’t answer that.”
He put down the bow. “Why not?”
“Because it depends upon the situation.” Merlin shook his head. “So Guinevere told you that you’re fey touched now?”
“Yes. She told me this morning.”
Merlin looked away, then back at Arthur. “Well, that’s interesting. It certainly alters some things and steps up the timeline.”
“What do you mean?” the king asked. “Are you talking about my future? Have you seen it?”
The druid nodded. “I have seen many things that are awaiting you, Arthur. Your destiny is a glorious one. I was hoping that we could avoid any fey bonds, but I suppose that was a vain aspiration. The faery folk do what they do, no matter what the rest of the world may like.”
