King and Lionheart

Prophecy

The following day, the sun was brightly shining, and although the temperatures were still dropping, it didn't matter. It was warm enough not to cause anyone much discomfort. The land smelt fresh due to the previous night's storm, and due to the muddy ground, everything was steadily getting dirtier as the day continued. Raindrops still fell from trees and roofs around the city, the sound blending into ordinary village noise. Arthur was seated at a bench in the palace gardens as she looked over some papers that Morgana assured were of importance. Arthur was distracted; she hadn't been able to stay concentrated while in her office, and the only thing she could think of to get her mind off Mac Airt's approaching visit was to go out to the gardens. Hopefully, she could clear her mind there.

The paper she read over was nothing too detailed. In fact, she didn't deem it of importance, but Morgana was Morgana and whatever she said was vital meant that extra care must go into it. Arthur sighed in exasperation and set the paper down next to herself. She threw her head back and looked up at the thin rolling clouds above her. She extended her right hand out towards the sun to shield her sight, and her eyes landed on her ring.

Bloody ring, she thought. The golden lion stared back at her as if taunting her. More and more, the enchanted ring was starting to seem more like a prison than a helping hand. Was Morgana right? Did her freedom and happiness mean the kingdom could still prosper? Foolish thoughts these were. Of course, she could never be free. For a split second, she imagined how different life would be if her father never introduced her as a boy but as a girl...how much more difficult would it have been to ascend to the throne? Would her people hate her? She shook her head and closed her eyes, letting her hand fall back on the stone bench to support her as she leaned back. The light of the sun warmed her face, and she took steady breaths. There was no use in thinking of what could've been...it's not like she could turn back time.

Could she ever be herself?

The tapping of boots against the interlocked stone path caused her eyes to shoot open. She sat up straight and picked up the document from beside her. She cleared her throat and pretended to be engrossed in her 'important kingly documents,' as Morgana so eloquently called them.

Arthur lifted her head from the paper and looked in the direction of the approaching footsteps. There she saw him; Diarmuid, who was suited up in armour and looking rather determined. Instinctively, she reached out to her push a bit of her hair behind her ear, but she stopped herself as soon as she realized her action. Get your head straight, idiot!

"My—Arthur," Diarmuid corrected himself as he reached her. He took a deep breath. "The Lady Jeanne informed me that you were looking for me."

Arthur stared at Diarmuid, head tilted up as she felt small. She thought back to when he steadied her. She shook her head to rid herself of the image. "Ah, yes." She pushed herself off from the bench. "I was meaning to see how you were doing with the brand. I know you might be in pain, and Morgana and Merlin haven't been doing much about it. I also wanted to bring you some..." She searched her mind for the right word, "news you aren't exactly going to be keen on hearing."

Diarmuid nodded. "I came to speak to you about that, actually."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and her lips thinned. "You...know? Did Morgana tell you something?"

From his pocket, Diarmuid pulled out a letter and a small jewel. Arthur simply looked at him in confusion.

He held up the jewel in front of himself. "I met Youth on my day off. She was speaking all sorts of things but...I don't think she was lying to me. She...she said mint would cure the pain and stop the nightmares, and well, I tried, and it worked."