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She would not stand for it. Merlin was gone. But she would not give Maleagant what he wanted. She would take the option away from him entirely. At the next opportunity, she would fling herself into the river. Let the Lady take her. Let herself be unmade. It was the least Merlin deserved. If he could see the past and future, he had seen this and he had not helped her.
And this way she could never be made to hurt Arthur. Never again.
“What are you smiling about?” the first guard said. “You look creepy. Stop it.”
“Can I go for a walk about the island?”
“Yes, of course. I have packed a picnic! And would her Ladyship like a bit of music to accompany her stroll?” The second guard doffed his hat, bowing. They did not move away from the door.
“I need to relive myself.”
The guard kicked a chipped and cracked wooden bowl toward her. It skittered across the floor. “Have at it, queen.”
That ploy had failed. And worse, she really did need to relieve herself. “You cannot expect me to do it with you in here.”
He pitched his voice high in imitation of her. “Then you cannot expect to do it at all.”
She picked up the bowl, retreating to the farthest edge of the building. It was heavily shadowed. The men snickered. But the second guard turned his back on her. “Come on, Ranulf,” he said. “Let the poor lost queen take her piss.”
The first guard, Ranulf, shrugged. “Speaking of, I need to go water the river before Sir Malegeant comes back and I have to stand at attention while he tortures his new pet.” He stepped out the door, closing it behind him.
Guinevere had never peed so fast in her life. She squatted over the bowl, keeping her skirts pooled around her. When she was finished, she stood and refastened her drawers with her back to the door.
There was a shout from outside, and a large splash.
“What is-“ the second guard said, standing.
Guinevere picked up the bowl and rushed across the room, throwing its contents in his face. He shouted in disgust, spluttering. She opened the door, hurried the few steps towards the water, her eyed locked on the edge. Then she jumped.
Arthur needed to know that she was dead. Him not knowing meant that Malegeant could still win. She had to send him some kind of vision. As she felt the cold dark hands of the river reaching for her, she tried to give up. Give herself over to the water. She could not, the panic still set in, darkening her vision. She gasped for breath.
“Guinevere!” Mordred? His voice matched her own panicked scream. At least now, Arthur would know.
Soft rain woke Guinevere up, the feeling of tiny drops of water flickering across her face. She opened her eyes and closed them immediately. Was this real? Or was she dreaming, her body dead in the waves of the river and her spirit wandering the earth? Carefully, she opened her eyes again. A woman was leaning over her, what Guinevere thought was rain were really a thousand little teardrops, streaming from the woman’s eyes.
“You´re back.” She gurgled softly and a smile burst through her tears. “You´re back. Here with me. Safe.”
For a moment, the woman’s face changed. Old woman, young girl, back to how it was before. Guinevere stared at her. “The Lady of the lake!”
“They call me that, yes. My name is Nynaeve.” The woman smiled. “Do not be frightened, my child. I will not harm you.”
“Why…?” Guinevere stopped. Memories poured into her mind. Sitting on the woman’s lap, singing songs of falling raindrops and murmuring streams. Making lucent figures from steam, mixing her fire with her mother’s water. Playing with other little girls in the misty blue sunlight filtering through the waves of the lake.
“There will be time for questions later. Rest now.” The Lady stood.
Guinevere was confused. She searched within herself; there should be fear, dread, panic even. But she felt calm, almost save in the presence of this woman. Could she trust her? There had to be a reason for Merlin to change these memories, to implant the fear of water in her. Could she trust him?
“Mother?” She extended her hand, determined to find out.
“Yes, my child?”
When their hands touched, Guinevere winced at the pain. Her mother’s emotions flooded her but she could not feel any cruelty or malice. Just pain and fear. Even more confused she let the woman help her to get to her feet. Who was this woman? What happened in the thick fog that was their shared past? “May I explore the lake a bit? I do not remember much.”
Pleasantly surprised, her mother smiled. “Of course, let us walk together. So we can talk while you see your home with new eyes.” Both of them headed towards the door and Guinevere found herself surrounded by the blue-tinted sunlight she remembered. Her mother linked arms with her. “Welcome back to the Land of the Maidens.”
The Land of the Ladies felt much more alive than Guinevere had imagined. Petite lodges surrounded a large clearance as the weeds encircled the lake. Laughter of little girls purled through the air and women of all ages sat there, calmly chatting. Though time seemed to move slower and everything felt softer here, the place still vibrated with life. Nothing, from the pearls the little girls played with to the houses and furniture, even the women themselves, had a single sharp edge. Everywhere Guinevere looked, she was greeted by friendly round shapes.
She felt her mother’s gaze on her and turned to answer it.
“We´ve missed you.” Her mother said. “I imagine you are confused but I am glad you´re back.”
“Why did I leave? Why could I not remember this? If it´s not you, Merlin wanted to protect me from, then why change my memories.” Guinevere had so many questions and she was not even sure she wanted an answer.
“Merlin.” Her mother’s expression went cold. “He is not worried about you. He knows that you have nothing to fear from me. The only one he cares about is himself.”
“He does care for others! He did everything he could to protect Camelot.” Guinevere was not sure why she defended him. He had lied to her but he had also been the only person in her life for so long. In what she thought was her life anyway.
“Men,” the Lady spat the word. “All they ever want is glory and all they ever leave is suffering. They never care about other people.”
“Not all men are like this!” Guinevere protested. “Arthur would sacrifice anything for his people; he is the most kind and selfless person I´ve ever met. He is the bridge, the hope of humanity.”
Her mother looked at her, sadness darkening her seaweed-green eyes. “So you still haven´t changed you mind.” It was not a question. “I hoped like you when I was young. Merlin is not human, I thought he was different. And then he crushed my hopes beneath his feet. Stole my girls from me. Ripped away what I treasured most. And destroyed it. Without even a second thought.”
“Your girls?” Guinevere asked. She hoped it would not upset her mother more and unleash the tears from her already wet eyes. “Do you mean me?”
“Yes. No. It doesn´t matter.” The woman cleared her throat. “You are here, save and far away from men’s destruction. That is what´s important now.”
Guinevere let out a deep breath. She needed clear answers. Truth. But her mother was unwilling or maybe even unable to talk about the past. She decided to change the topic for now. “How can I get back home?”
Her mother blinked. “You are at home.”
“No, I meant, I need to go back to Camelot. To Arthur.” Guinevere clarified.
Nynaeve shook her head, he voice raspy with frustration. “I just told you why you can´t go back. Men bring nothing but pain. No one will hurt you here. You just escaped their world of suffering and made it to safety. Why would you want to go back?”
“There are many people up there who are important to me. And I am Guinevere now, their queen. I also swore to myself to protect Arthur wherever I can even though that was not really Merlins plan.” Almost inaudibly, she added: “And I would miss him, all of them.”
“My foolish girl,” her mother sighed. “You need to stop giving that boy the power to destroy you. Stay with me where you are safe and cared about.”
“I´m sorry, mother, I cannot stay.” She held her head high and spoke clearly and firmly. She would not persuaded to stay here and live happily while Brangien grieved her and Modred and Arthur were consumed by guilt for not saving her. Would they grieve as well? Maybe they were relieved that they no longer needed to look after a queen who attracted danger like old fruit attracted flies. The thought hurt and she had to force herself not to push it away. If that was the case, she could still return and no one else in Camelot had to find out she was still alive. But Arthur and Mordred deserved to know.
Her mother studied the pillowy moss that covered the ground. “I cannot stop you; we both know that you are more powerful than I am. But I wish you could see your mistake and I will do everything in my power to protect you from your own foolishness. I can´t stop you but I will still try.”
Guinevere took her hand, prepared this time for the pain her mother carried with her. “Thank you! I will come back and visit you. I promise.”
Her spies come back one by one, all empty handed. The queen-not–queen is gone. With every spider that sees nothing with its eight eyes, with every tree that bites nothing with its leafs, with even her human among humans not delivering a message, the dark queen grows ever more furious.
In Camelot everything is order as it always is. She is not yet able to wrap her claws around it. The king is shaken but not enough for her to use. He is devastated; still he rules Camelot and keeps the chaos out. The queen-not-queen was chaos. Now she is gone.
Guinevere had spent the rest of the day with her mother. She did not want to upset her or the rest of the ladies by trying to leave. They also did not need to see her fail, as her mother had made it clear that she would not help her and Guinevere did not know how to do it. Now, at night, the village was surrounded by a wall of silver moonlight-infused water. When she touched the water it felt solid even though she could see it moving. There had to be a magical barrier.
Using her hair, Guinevere made a knot for carrying and tied it to her arm. Then she stepped towards the wall and very carefully she knotted a trickle that ran down the wall together with a strand of hair. Open. She let her energy flow through the hair that connected her with the water. The wall opened in front of her.
She did not think about why she could do water magic. Had she once drowned someone? Was she capable of such a thing? She could not think about that right now. Her fear of water was gone completely, so the water felt like an embrace. It carried her to the surface where it set her gently on the bank.
She looked at the stars above her for orientation. Camelot was far, she would have a long night of walking ahead of her. It was too long a journey, she would probably not make it before dawn and when the world woke up to see her, the situation could become dangerous. Her gaze sampled the dark forest, the empty fields and the wide lake in front of her. Now that she already used water magic, she could as well do it again. If she was Nynaeves daughter, then maybe she could just control water by nature. She was the Lady of the Lake after all. Were all the women in the Land of the Maidens water sorceresses?
Water was a long connected thread in the great tapestry of the world, fanning out into small streams, connecting every corner. Guinevere called for it once again and let it carry her through rivers and lakes to the borders of Camelot. The lake around Camelot still scared her a bit; she did not know what would happen to her magic in its void. The tunnel seemed safer.
Just as the people of Camelot started to wake up, she knotted a veil of confusion around herself and crept towards the castle. No one bothered her when she passed the gates but it was only when she entered the long hallways when she dared to breath normally again. Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm. Someone held her back, sharp and strong like iron.
“What are you doing here, woman?” the knight barked. He turned her around to see who she was. Upon recognizing her, his eyes went wide and he pulled her into a nearby niche. His grip became so soft it turned into a hug which she allowed herself to melt into. He held on to her for a long moment before he pushed her back to look at her.
“Guinevere. You´re alive.” He frowned and poured a torrent of words on her. “How could you do that? I was right there, I could have saved you! Why did you have to throw yourself into that cursed river? And if you survived where on earth have you been in the past six weeks? Do you enjoy letting us suffer when there is no reason to at all?”
“Six weeks?” Shocked, she took a step back, hitting her elbow painfully against the wall. She did not care. “Six weeks?”
“Yes, six weeks, Guinevere.” He massaged his temple, hiding his face. The silence began to grow teeth. He was not happy to see her. She had caused pain. “We need to tell Arthur. Wait in his chambers, I´ll go and find him.”
The door opened and the king stormed in. He was pale with deep shadows beneath his eyes but his face glowed. Only a step from where she stood, he stopped. She had selfishly hoped for a kiss but he took her hands instead.
“Guinevere,” he whispered, his gaze diving deep into her eyes. “I thought I´d lost you. You´re here, I can barely believe it” He lowered his head. “I´m so sorry, I could not come to your rescue. You… You… I saw you drown, every time I looked at a body of water larger than a small bowl, I saw the vision. Again and again” He repressed a sob.
“Oh no! I wanted to send you a message, so you knew not to bring danger to Camelot to save me when I was already dead. I didn´t mean to haunt you. I´m so sorry.” She pulled him closer to her and placed his head on her shoulder. He was Camelot´s strength but right now he clearly needed to be a young boy who had been through a lot.
They stood there for a long time, crying and both silently enjoying the others presence. Guinevere spoke first. “Mordred said I´ve been gone for six weeks.”
“45 days.” He attempted a lopsided smile. “I still can´t believe you´re here. How can it be? I saw you and Mordred confirmed it.”
“I came back as soon as I could, Arthur, I did not mean to cause any harm. Please believe me.” She desperately hoped he would not accuse her of purposefully hurting him like Mordred did. With Merlin lying to her and her mother having goals and motivations she did not understand, Arthur was the only person left to trust.
“Of course not. Are You hurt? What happened?” he asked.
“Nothing server. It is a confusing story, do you have the time? I assume you were working.”
“You´re right. I need to dismiss the council meeting Mordred interrupted to tell me you were back. I´ll be back here in a heartbeat, I just need to announce that their queen is alive and that I need to spend time with her. We will celebrate tomorrow, today we need to talk and you need to rest.” He turned away, already on his way.
“Arthur, wait.” Guinevere stopped him. “Do you… do you still want me to be your queen? You don´t need my protection and from what I learned, I don´t think I need yours either.”
“Do you still want to be my queen?” he answered with a question.
It was selfish; there was no need for her to be in his life any longer. “Yes.” She whispered with a sore throat. “One hundred times yes.”
“Then of course, you still are.” His smile was back. “I´ve said it before: I want you by my side.”
“Oh! Well then. “ she beamed at him.
“Why don´t you go and see Brangien. She missed you terribly.”
“Yes, that I will do. See you later?” she asked hopefully.
“As soon as possible” smiled Arthur.
Brangien had insisted that Guinevere went to bed to rest even though the sun had not even reached her highest point yet. A knock on the door startled her awake. Arthur took of his crown and sat on the side of her bed.
“How are you?” He asked.
“A little tired, otherwise wonderful, now that I´m back at home.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Then you should rest, we can talk later.”
She held him back. “You look like you should do the same. I don´t think I have ever seen you this pale.”
“I haven´t slept very well in the past weeks.”
“Would it help to have me close to you?” she dared to ask and motioned toward the other half of her bed.
“I suspect, knowing you are near is the only thing that can help.” He took his shoes and settled in next to her. He took her hand, looking at her for confirmation that it was alright. She interlocked their fingers, closed her eyes and listened to his breathing. Soon, they both found a steady rhythm and fell asleep.
When they woke up, the sun had already set and the castle was quiet. Guinevere told her story and in turn Arthur reported on what she had missed in Camelot. Mordred had tried to save her without an official order from the king as Arthur could not risk a war between Camelot and Malegeants supporters. Malegeant had fled from the kingdom after Guinevere jumped in the river. There was a friendly silence they shared after exchanging their stories. Guinevere caught Arthur staring at her with an expression she could not quit place. Pride? Admiration?
“Why are you looking at me like this?” she asked.
“You are the bravest woman I know.” He answered without hesitation. “The one thing you fear most is water and you threw yourself in a river for the benefit of Camelot. I do not know if I could do such a thing.”
“Oh no, I´m not.” She disagreed. “My fear of water was a false memory that Merlin used to hide who I was. I am the Lady of the Lake´s daughter. I should not be afraid of water.”
“But the fear was very real at the time, wasn´t it? I felt it whenever we were near the lake.”
“Hm-m” the sound she made was only vaguely affirmative. “Have you met my mother? Was she the one who gave you Excalibur?”
“You said that there were more maidens below the lake. Do you think it´s possible that there is more than one Lady of the Lake?” he suggested. She liked the idea. Even though the longing in his eyes when he talked about the Lady of the lake sparked burning jealousy in her, she could manage that. What she really did not like, however, was the idea that the Lady who once held his heart was her mother.
She shrugged. “I don´t know. She was the same Lady of the Lake I saw talking to Merlin. But I am not sure if the other maidens were magical as well.”
“The Lady of the Lake I met was gorgeous. She appeared from the lake with such grace and she had small drops of water in her hair blinking like diamonds in the sun. Everything about her radiated with life and curiosity. She was powerful, everyone respected and feared her but she never abused it. She was kind and welcoming to everyone. And I felt an instant connection, similar to the one we have, like I could trust her, like I should…” he trailed off.
Guinevere swallowed dry. “Did you… did you love her?”
“Yes. Sometimes I think I still do.”
She tried not to let her disappointment seep into her voice. “It doesn´t sound like my mother. She radiates mostly pain and fear. Her name is Nynaeve, my mothers.”
“Then it wasn´t her. Her name is the sweetest name my lips have ever tasted. Niviana.”
Warmth pooled inside her. Starting in her heart it spread, slowly flowing through every part of her body. Filling a deep wound, she never even knew was there. Fixing something that broke long ago. How long since she heard her name from his lips? Calm warmth and ecstatic happiness were both rising in her and fighting for control. She took in a sharp breath.
Worried, he lead closer to her. She had not realized that she had closed her eyes.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Could you say that again? Please?” she whispered afraid to disrupt the moment.
“Her name? Niviana?”
This was why Arthur was always there in her past. They had known each other, in another form. Someone or something that she was before she became Guinevere.
“My name. My true name.” she whispered.
Change has come to Camelot. She can feel the seeds of chaos; she tries to sow in the city, twist inside their dark cocoons. The king and his sword are inconvenient but no match for her. She is nature; she is life, chaos and destruction.
Something awoke in Camelot. The queen-not-queen is back. The queen gathered her forces. Soon. Things would change. The queen not queen has transformed into something new. Something exciting.
Camelot was full of celebrating people the next day. The king had treated the people to wine and music and children danced in the streets. Guinevere and Arthur stood on one of the castles towers and watched the busy crowd beyond them.
“They are happy to have their queen back.” Arthur said. “But no one is as perfectly happy as I am to have you. My Niviana.”
Hearing him say her name sent a wave of pleasure across her skin. Her true name. Another powerful tool she gave him to destroy her. She looked over to Excalibur, leaning against the wall. “You were wrong, mother.” She thought. “He is the only one, I can trust with it.”
“I admit, I am still very confused about my past and I don´t know why I became your queen. But I am glad I´m here.” She leaned against him and looked up to him, smiling. He wrapped his arm around her and together they looked over Camelot and the surrounding land. Laughter and music echoed from the city and they just enjoyed feeling the other close by.
When they cheeks were already rosy from the wind up there, Arthur brought out two cups of wine. “We should drink to this day.” He said. “And to us.”
Niviana raised her cup. “To curiosity for both the past and the future.” She laughed.
“And to you.” Arthur added. “My once and future love.”