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15% Sword in Stone / Chapter 15: Comforting the knight remaining

Capítulo 15: Comforting the knight remaining

Sir Lancelot loyally followed Artie, and she was glad he didn't ask anymore questions. They headed towards the courtyard proper, and Artie didn't need any help going towards the stone. For some reason, she had a strand inside of her that drew her towards that direction, unconsciously. Sir Lancelot, who had expected to be the one in the lead, was surprised, but let Artie go, following behind her. She only came to a stop when she came to the clearing. The sword stood there, similar to the past and Artie swallowed. It was different from the last time. That time she had done it to shut it up, but now? Now she was intentionally drawing the sword from the stone. It would be hilarious if she wasn't able to pull it out for a second time. 

She moved towards the sword, placing her hand on the hilt and a wave of wind went around the clearing, rustling the trees around them. Sir Lancelot stood in surprise, his hand on his own sword, just in case. Artie chuckled. 

"This is probably the last time I'll be able to speak this freely, is there anything you would like to say?" She asked, and Lancelot opened his mouth to speak, but understood it wasn't for him as another burst of wind came into the clearing, but focused only on the new King. A chuckle filled Artie's ears. 

"Child, we can always speak if you head towards the lake. Your connection, unlike the previous Arthru, is much stronger. We do not know if that is because you are a female or not, or if this was where you were always meant to be." Artie tsked. 

"I would like to believe it's just because I am female. That would be an awful thing to say since there are many who believed in the King before me, including myself. It's not a very kind statement." Laughter filled the air and Artie winced. She glanced behind her to see if Lancelot heard it, but it was clear he didn't, but he could witness the wind moving around the clearing. He seemed in awe. 

"My dear, you forget, your future and this one do not collide. You are free to change it how you would like, and anything that you come up with that is original the spirits would love. In fact, we know that many are watching you. Simply call out to them and they would gladly help you." Artie knew better than to trust any spirit. 

"How would I do that? I don't know their names. I barely know yours." The laughter wrapped around her, the wind caressing Artie's cheek in place of a real hand. Lancelot watched on in awe. 

"Just ask for the spirits and they will come." Artie narrowed her eyes. She remembered the stories her Mother read to her as a child.

"And what would they ask for in return? My first born?" The trees aggressively shook, and the birds flew off in a tizzy. Lancelot glanced around, clearly worried, but Artie held her ground. 

"You aren't easily fooled." The Lady of the Lake said, and Artie could tell there was humour in her tone, even if she was a little upset. "Only what you can offer. Don't forget to negotiate with them before agreeing to anything. They already know now that they can't ask for your first born." The trees shook again, and Artie got the distinct feeling that it wasn't the Lady of the Lake's doing this time. Huh. 

"And not limbs, or other body parts. I'll only do favours. Things like, slay a dragon or stop the townspeople from polluting this lake that I love. Things like that." There was a violent reaction to her words, and she watched as Sir Lancelot took a step towards her before a harsh wind blew through the area, and the small pond began to bubble. 

"Stop!" The clearing stilled, and Artie held her breath. "We will let them know, my new owner, but we cannot promise they won't ask for impossible things. They do like to push the limits." Artie smiled, and nodded as the pond stilled and the birdsong came back to the courtyard. Now, with some of her fears answered, Artie willingly pulled the sword out of the stone. She was surprised by how light it was, something she hadn't taken into consideration the first time since she had been so distracted. Since she was injured, she had worried it would tug on her wound, but she felt nothing of the sort. Instead, it felt comfortable in her hand, which should have been impossible. She'd never held a sword before in her life. She stared down at the sword, and really took it in. It seemed simple enough, with some lettering carved into a well down the center of the blade. She knew for this time that was a fairly well crafted sword, and the hilt was simple, mostly leather wrapped around the metal, and was soft. It had a good grip, and there was a clear, white stone for the pommel. She wondered if that would do her any good, since she would worry she would shatter it. Maybe if she asked Merlin, or even Lancelot about it they might have some answers for her. 

"Did you have a good chat with the Lady of the Lake?" Sir Lancelot's words broke her out of her thoughts. He was calm, and had approached her with a leather belt she hadn't noticed. He tied it around her waist, and she realised it was for the sword. He helped her position it properly, and tucked the sword into it. Once done, he stepped back and smiled, happy with his handiwork. Artie was a little surprised he was so calm about everything, but magic was real in this world, so he must have some tolerance for it. 

"Yes. She told me I could chat with her whenever I wanted if I went to the lake." He smiled softly. Artie was unaware that she seemed quite happy about that. 

"Your Highness, Sir Arthur was never able to communicate with the Lady of the Lake. I never saw him able to talk to her the way you have. Twice." He chuckled, and his expression as he looked over at the pond which had remained still even in Arthur's death was one of pain. "It makes me think that he was never meant to be the King, given the way the spirits treat you." Alarmed that even Sir Lancelot was parroting the words he hadn't even heard, Artie grabbed his hands, forcing Sir Lancelot to look at her. 

"Sir Lancelot, the previous King was a very wonderful man, you yourself know this. The spirits stole me from ym world, my timeline because something that even they couldn't predict happened. That is why they are treating me so well. Not because Arthur wasn't meant to be here." The two of them turned their gaze towards the mausoleum. It was now clear to Artie who it was for, and it only made her heart ache. The man had only just gotten through all of the hardship, and here she was, riding in to sweep up all the good karma he had earned. Sir Lancelot's sigh shook her out of her thoughts, and he gave her hands a squeeze. 

"Forgive me Sire, I am a useless knight to be constantly comforted by you." His smile was bitter. Artie, knowing that the man was probably beating himself up over everything, released his hands to cup his face. Yes, her stomach protested, but this was important to her. She didn't want him to swim in guilt for forever, and especially about this. His eyes widened in surprise as Artie forced him to stare into her rather serious gaze. 

"No matter what happened in the past, this is my future, and you, Lancelot, also went through a very traumatic event. You lost the man who was not only your charge, but also your best friend, even if that friendship happened to be strained at the time. If anything, that's worse because you can't apologise, and he can't forgive you. You are going to live with those feelings for the rest of your life, and I understand what that feels like. I've lost men on the job too, so you can always come to me if you need comfort. I can't promise it will be a soft comfort, but I can always have a drink with you, listen to your problems, hell, I have even be a wingman. Who the hell would say no to Sir Lancelot, and especially if he has the King as his back up?" He snorted, and then remembered who he was and flushed. Artie grinned at him, happy she was able to break his shell slightly. "So don't be so hard on yourself, at least not right now. Save it for when I'm allowed to drink and we can drown our sorrows together. After all, I did have the person I trusted the most in my life literally kill me." The light and laughter died from his eyes and he grew somber. 

"I forgot, in all the chaos of the last fortnight, how you came to us. Are you…alright, Sire?" Artie laughed, and dropped her hands from his face, smiling before glancing around the courtyard before turning her gaze towards the leather belt that held the sword of legend easily. 

"Oh, I don't think so. I haven't processed it in the slightest. I am really, really hoping that something like doppelgangers or look-alikes don't exist here. I am not sure what I would do if I found someone who looked just like her." Artie turned her grin towards Sir Lancelot, and he seemed conflicted. He opened his mouth to speak, when someone else beat him to the punch. 

"What are you two doing over there in the middle of the clearing? With no one else around, and so close together?" The tone was teasing, and Sir Lancelot's cheeks flushed while he turned to face the knights coming towards them. Sir Percy, Artie expected, but Sir Geraint and Sir Gaheris? She truly didn't think that they would be traveling with Sir Percy. All three of them grinned at Sir Lancelot's reaction. 

"Oh, get your minds out of the gutter. I was grabbing Excalibur again, and Sir Lancelot was helping me with my…belt? I'm not actually sure what this is called." She pointed to the leather that held up her sword and Sir Percy grinned at her, before giving a small bow. 

"It is wonderful to see you up and about and not lying in bed like a corpse, Sire. I've had enough of those to last for the next year, so please try not to start any wars in that time." Artie laughed at his bold request, grinning as she began to move past them, the sway of the sword at her hip a new feeling. She patted his shoulder as she passed him, aware that Sir Lancelot had fallen into step behind her. 

"Only if they don't start one first, alright? I'm a woman, not a pushover." Their laughter followed her as Artie made her way back towards the stairs she had come down from. "Sir Lancelot, would you guide me towards where you said Merlin is now that we've finished speaking to the Lady of the Lake?" Someone behind her whistled. 

"You spoke to her again, Sire?" It was one of the brothers. Artie hadn't seen who had actually spoken, or heard them if she recalled, so she wasn't sure which one it was. 

"She's very chatty, actually, and told me we could chat more if I met her at her lake." She sighed, glancing around. Now that she didn't have the pull of the sword, she felt lost. Sir Lancelot noticed, and swiftly took the lead. "She also warned me that the other spirits are interested in me and to keep an eye out for them. No doubt they'll be as sneaky as Merlin. I'll have to ask Lady Morgan for her help." One of them scoffed. 

"Why ask that witch for her help?" It was the other of the two brothers who had spoken. Artie giggled. She was sure that no one knew what exactly Lady Morgan was, nor how much she had given up for her powers. The fact that Sir Mordred didn't have a true Father figure made Artie wonder if one of the stories she read was true. Was what Lady Morgan gave up for more powers her one true love? It was something a spirit would ask for, and if she had been desperate enough at the time, she would have done it too. Not even knowing she was pregnant with Mordred at the time. These knights had no idea what Lady Morgan had done for them, and given how standoffish Lady Morgan had been to her face, but how kindly she had spoken to Lady Guinevere about her, she had a feeling there was more to the woman that she let on.


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
CalyB CalyB

Artie is going to be in for a treat when she finally deals with the trauma and pain from her attack, instead of repressing it.

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