by J. M. Briggs
Arthur nodded and they sat in silence until he shook his head and laughed, “This is ridiculous; we’re friends and we like each other.”
“I guess this is why most people go and see a movie or something before dinner, so they have something to talk about.”
“We’ll try that next time,” Arthur agreed and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the promise of another date.
“Okay how about this: what class are you looking forward to the most?” Alex asked.
“The Story of King Arthur,” Arthur replied. “Professor Yates suggested it to me. I’m a little creeped out by the idea of taking the class, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt to know more of the mythology we’re dealing with.”
“Oh, I didn't realize you were taking that class, it had a horrible wait list.”
“I wasn't originally, but after finals were over and you guys left Professor Yates was able to get me into the class.”
“Yeah, Bran and Aiden were originally waitlisted,” Alex admitted with a smile. “Mer-Yates probably had something to do with that.”
“We're crazy aren't we,” Arthur remarked shaking his head. “Wanting to take an English class about the Story of King Arthur.”
“A little weird to subject ourselves to it maybe,” Alex agreed, “But not crazy. After all, that class isn't taught very often, but Yates brought it back for this semester. I daresay that our professor had a pretty stern expectation of us taking it.”
“And hopefully he’ll cut us some slack if we’re late on a paper due to a Sídhe attack.”
Alex nodded in agreement at that sentiment, but they both fell silent as the waitress returned to take their order. The diner was beginning to fill up more and more with students in large groups, young couples, and families who were in town to help students move in. Worried about being overheard, Alex asked Arthur about his favorite movies and they kept themselves occupied gushing over their favorite car chases. Arthur was grinning by the time their food came and the nervous knot in Alex’s stomach had finally unwound.
“Don’t get me wrong I lo- I still really care about Jenny,” Arthur told Alex, stumbling for a moment with a guilty expression. “But it’s kind of nice to know that my girlfriend wants to see action films instead of romance.”
Alex smiled at the comment and pushed down the hint of jealously at Arthur’s fumble. It made sense of course that he still worried about her; they’d dated for four years and she was the reincarnation of his wife and significant other in numerous lifetimes. Her jealousy also made a lot of sense, but Alex didn’t want to dwell on that. Besides, he’d called her his girlfriend!
“Speaking of Jenny…” Alex trailed off with a small blush as she wondered if her question was a good idea or not. “She and Lance are still attending school here, so we’re bound to see them around and they’ll see each other… would it bother you if they got together properly?”
“No,” Arthur replied with a sad smile. “In fact, I’d be happier if they did.”
“You would?” Alex’s heart skipped a beat when Arthur gave her a small smile and nodded.
“I think… I think they belong together. Jenny and I… what I felt for her was always there, always very… warm I suppose. It was never very passionate. I always thought that was what they talked about when they said that real love was a steady burning flame, but now I’m not sure if what I thought was love really was towards her.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair in frustration and sighed loudly. “I care about her, I never want anything bad to happen to her and I want her to be happy, but I’m not sure that’s really love. After everything came out I saw the way that Lance looked at Jenny and it… it kind of floored me. It was so much... more than I ever think I felt. So yeah if what was between them could have a chance, a real chance, then I think it would be so much more than Jenny and I had. Not to mention if they did get together and were able to be happy… then everything we went through becomes worth it.”
Then he reached forward, took her hand and gave it a small squeeze. The tight ring that had been around her lung eased and Alex was able to breathe again. Arthur’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand gently and she was able to smile.
“That might not have been the best answer to give my new girlfriend,” Arthur admitted in a low voice without meeting Alex’s eyes. “But it’s the honest one.” He swallowed thickly, a slight blush coloring his cheeks and added, “And for the sake of full disclosure you should know that I care a lot about you too and think about kissing you and…other things a lot more than I probably should.”
Blushing brightly, Alex used her free hand to grab her soda and take a sip through the straw. It made a loud slurping noise that only made her blush redder, but Arthur laughed warmly and grinned at her. A moment later they had to release each other’s hand when the waitress brought over their burgers and the order of garlic parmesan fries.
“Here you go kiddos,” the waitress said with a wide smile as her eyes glanced between the two of them. “You two make a cute couple.”
As the waitress moved away from their table towards another one, Arthur beamed at Alex and assured her, “Well just so we’re clear Alex, I’d like us to go steady.”
“Okay,” Alex agreed quickly, her stomach flipping and her skin tingling.
“And I guess we’ll just have to figure out date nights around protecting the Earth,” Arthur added in a lower voice.
“The Iron Realm,” Alex corrected with a teasing smile.
“Alright, the Iron Realm then,” Arthur conceded, picking up his soda and holding it forward for a small toast. Picking up her own soda, Alex clinked the glasses together in agreement with a smile.
3
The New Warrior
806 B.C.E. Northern Cornwall
Arto stared out over the village that he now called home from the doorway of his roundhouse. So much had changed in the last few years that there were moments he felt adrift and confused. He’d been born in this village long ago, the only son of Uthyrn and Eigyr and younger half-brother of Morgana. But he’d been born different from the other children; his soul had been created by the power of the Iron Realm itself to repel the invasion of the Sídhe. All his life he’d heard the tale of the fierce magical warriors that came from another world, capturing humans and taking them back into their own realm to live as slaves.
His own sister had been one of their victims, taken at a young age and replaced with a Changeling. Morgana had only been returned to them in order to spy on him for the Sídhe. Merlin had saved him from an attack and taken him away from his family and this village to keep him safe. He’d grown up traveling throughout the isles with Merlin, learning to control his magic and preparing for the day he’d fulfill the reason he was created. Now as an adult it seemed like he and the people of the isles were finally making progress. The mages had introduced iron to the isles and now Arto had discovered how to use the iron to cut off the Sídhe advances, but there were always more. Some days it felt like they could only hold them back, never really stop them.
And it always seemed to come back to him, Arto mused as he watched smoke rise from forges and fires throughout the village and blow away in the morning sky. Breathing out slowly, Arto closed his eyes for a moment and tried to banish the darker thoughts trying to creep up on him. A soft breeze surrounded him, making his skin tingle and freshening the air.
“Arto,” a soft female voice called from behind him.
Opening his eyes, Arto turned around with a smile to see Gwenyvar stepped out of the roundhouse with a quizzical look on her face. Her brown eyes were squinting against the rising sun and her long brown hair was in neat braids with small golden decorations. In her arms, she carried a light blue colored cloak and a bronze pin that glinted in the sunlight.
“Good morning Gwenyvar,” Arto greeted warmly with a widening smile.
“Good morning husband,” Gwenyvar returned with a brilliant smile.
In one movement, she swung the cloak around her shoulders. Ar
to reached out and gently caught the edges, bringing them together and using the pin to clasp them in place. His fingers moved up to brush against the soft warm skin of Gwenyvar’s neck and he leaned down to kiss her. A soft laugh escaped his wife, but she met him halfway and pressed her lips against his without a word.
“Arto!” Another voice called sharply from nearby.
Pulling away from Gwenyvar, Arto gave her an apologetic smile. She sighed softly but gave him a small reassuring smile.
“And there’s your sister,” Gwenyvar observed with a shake of her head. “I wonder what she wants now?”
“Gwenyvar, Morgana means well.”
“I don’t think she likes me very much,” Gwenyvar remarked with a frown. “She’s always saying that your mother and my father shouldn’t have let us get married.”
“She’s just worried we’re too young,” Arto assured Gwenyvar, ignoring his sister calling to him from down the hill. “We’re younger than she was when she and Airril married. She’s just protective.”
“We’re not children,” Gwenyvar sighed with a small frown. “We’re sixteen.”
“I’m her younger brother,” Arto countered with a small shrug and another apologetic smile. “In the end, I’m always going to be her younger brother, no matter how many warriors I lead, Sídhe I kill and iron gates I create.”
Gwenyvar chuckled softly and gave him a warm smile with a small nod of understanding. Leaning up, she kissed his cheek gently and gestured down the hill.
“Well then, go on great leader,” Gwenyvar teased gently as she gave him a small push towards the path.
Grinning at her, Arto started down the path and followed his sister’s voice around the curve of the hill. His smile eased as he approached his sister and she stopped on the pathway. Morgana’s green eyes were watching him sharply and she had a slight frown on her face. Her long dark hair was tied in a long braid twisted around the crown of her head. As usual, she didn’t bother with much decoration, but the bronze pin she used to clasp her blue cloak around her shoulders was polished and gleaming in the sunlight. She’d mentioned that it had been a gift from Airril.
“Good morning sister,” Arto greeted cheerfully.
“Good morning Arto,” Morgana replied a bit impatiently. “You might be interested that Eaban’s son Luegáed arrived last night after you retired for the evening. He insisted on not disturbing you and Airril and I hosted him, but you need to extend your greetings.”
“Really, Luegáed is here?” Arto asked eagerly, his excitement making his sister’s lips twitch into a slight smile.
“Yes Arto, he is with Merlin at the moment getting breakfast and touring the forges.”
There was a hint of irritation in her voice, but Arto refused to apologize for spending time with his wife. He remembered too well the years that Morgana had traveled with him and Merlin and had not been with her own husband Airril. Since they’d settled here to oversee iron production, Airril was almost always in the village and traveled north to his home village only when necessary. His sister should understand better than most.
“I’ll see him at once,” Arto informed Morgana, straightening his shoulders.
Morgana nodded in approval and gestured towards the largest of the forging yards. Arto caught sight of an unfamiliar person moving through the yard and into a roundhouse with Merlin. As he started walking down the hill towards the roundhouse Arto couldn’t help but smile with excitement. Eaban was one of the most powerful men on the western isle and had been a supporter of fighting the Sídhe since the very beginning. He’d been a comfort when the Sídhe had killed his father last year and promised to send his son to help them. Arto had been looking forward to meeting Luegáed for some time: he was a warrior near Arto’s own age and if he was anything like his father Arto was sure they’d be good friends.
Arto followed the path down, greeting the villagers who smiled and bid him a good morning. His eyes scanned around for any sign of Merlin or the new arrival. Then he caught sight of them again on the path ahead, moving towards the village gate. With a burst of speed, Arto maneuvered his way around the people moving to start their days. He didn’t want to rush up like an overly eager child so once he was clear of the crowd, he slowed his pace and called out Merlin’s name.
The older man stopped, resting a hand on his companion’s shoulder for a moment before turning to face Arto. Merlin was smiling widely and leaned forward on his staff as Arto walked up to join them. A hint of auburn in Merlin’s graying hair shown in the sun and the older mage’s brown eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched him approach. Arto had no doubt that Merlin could tell how excited he was.
“Good morning Arto,” Merlin greeted warmly with a nod. “I see you’ve heard of our good fortune. Eaban’s long awaited son has finally arrived to join us.”
Arto nodded and turned his eyes towards the new arrival. Luegáed was intimidating. He was tall like his father, standing several inches above him with dark brown hair held out of his face by a woven band with small beads set into it. His brown eyes had the same softness to them as his father’s. After a moment of studying each other, Luegáed bowed to Arto and lowered his eyes.
“It is a pleasure to join your service Mage Arto,” Luegáed said formerly, his shoulders tight and his jaw muscles tense.
Shifting in place, Arto fought back the urge to fidget even while being slightly comforted by the knowledge that Luegáed was as nervous as he was. He’d heard a lot about Luegáed from Eaban before the older man returned to his home. Arto supposed it was only natural that Eaban had told Luegáed some stories about him and given the reputation that he was already developing despite only being sixteen the stories might have been a bit exaggerated. It didn’t help that Merlin was hiding a smile behind one of his hand.
“It is a pleasure to have you join us, Luegáed son of Eaban,” Arto replied with equal formality. “Please do not bow, we are all comrades here, all fighting to free our people.”
“Thank you,” Luegáed offered as he straightened up, a smile tugging at his lips. “Father has spoken very well of you, and I’m glad to finally be here.”
Luegáed’s eyes moved to Arto’s shoulder and the other young man was looking past him at something. Arto turned slightly to look over his shoulder and smiled as Gwenyvar came walking down the path carrying a basket of reeds. She paused and met Arto’s eyes with a smile. Holding out his hand, Arto gestured for her to join them.
“Luegáed, allow me to introduce you to my wife Gwenyvar,” Arto said pleasantly as Gwenyvar moved to stand next to him.
He saw a flicker of surprise on Luegáed face, but that was understandable. He and Gwenyvar had been married for a very short time; that news probably hadn’t spread very far. Luegáed once again inclined his head and smiled at Gwenyvar.
“A pleasure to meet you Gwenyvar. I trust that you are well?”
“I am very well,” Gwenyvar replied with a happy little giggle. “It is wonderful that you have joined us at last Luegáed. Arto has been looking forward to meeting you for some time.”
“Thank you both for your kind welcome,” Luegáed responded with a widening smile. “I only hope that I can meet your expectations of me.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine lad,” Merlin assured Luegáed with a chuckle. “But let us get you settled into one of the roundhouses; one of the other warriors, a man named Rosid, has insisted that you move in with him. It’s a rather large roundhouse, with just the two of you there will be plenty of room.”
“Thank you,” Luegáed replied turning his attention to Merlin.
“Luegáed,” Arto called to regain his attention. “There is a meeting of the war council this afternoon, I hope that you will join us.”
A look of surprise and excitement crossed Luegáed face and Merlin turned his eyes towards Arto. There was no disapproval at his hasty invitation, but some curiosity at Arto’s action. Luegáed nodded and gave another small bow, barely containing his smile.
“Of cour
se Arto, I would be honored.”
“More reason to get you settled and find an iron weapon for you,” Merlin added, touching Luegáed’s shoulder again. “Come along.”
As Luegáed turned to move down the path with Merlin, Arto heard his mentor ask the new arrival if he preferred swords, spears or axes, but couldn’t hear the answer.
“What do you think about Luegáed?” Arto asked, turning to Gwenyvar.
She was looking after their new arrival with a small smile and a curious expression on her face. Hearing the question, she turned back to him with a widening smile.
“He seems very nice,” she replied, taking his arm and squeezing it reassuringly. “It is a pity that Eaban couldn’t remain; I know you were very fond of him, but Luegáed seems to take after his father and if he is half the warrior that he seems to be then he will be a wonderful addition.”
