Chapter Text
Morgana ran down the keep steps in her nightgown, hair loose, and Arthur knew this meant trouble.
"Arthur!" Her voice carried across the courtyard. Eyes turned.
The common folk shouldn't see their lady like this, and Arthur had a feeling that whatever she had to say wasn't meant for public ears.
"Are you going after the bandits?" she called out, closing the distance between them.
There had been reports for weeks, but this morning a merchant had finally brought real intel: they'd stolen his two-ox cart, loaded with luxury textiles and leather. Cargo they couldn't carry on foot or hide in the forest. They'd be slow. They'd keep to the road.
"Yes, we finally have our chance—"
"Are these all the men you're bringing?" she demanded.
She was agitated, not her usual composed self. Must have just woken from another nightmare.
"Ten riders against half a dozen thieves with clubs and daggers?" Arthur kept his tone light, trying to draw her back to reality. The reports had said a dozen men, maybe more, with short swords and some leather armour, but she didn't know that. She hadn't heard the merchant's account — only whatever her dream had shown her. "I'm sure we'll be fine."
"They have crossbows," Morgana said, grabbing his hand. "Steel plate, great helms. Please, take more men. Otherwise, it'll be a slaughter." She looked up at him, and her voice dropped. "I saw you die."
For a moment, her intensity unsettled him.
"It was just a nightmare, Morgana." Arthur went for what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It won't happen." He extracted himself from her grasp and put a hand on her shoulder. "Go back inside, have breakfast, get dressed properly. I'll be back before the morning's gone; we’ll talk then."
Something shifted in her expression. She stepped back, out of his reach. Her face went blank — the composed mask she wore at court.
"Very well. Die a fool's death if that's what you want," she said coldly, hands on her hips. "I'll have your epitaph ready: 'Here lies Arthur, stubborn as a boar in death as he was in life.'"
"I'm sure it'll be very moving."
Morgana turned and walked back up the steps, spine straight, nightgown trailing behind her.
Arthur stood there for a moment, wondering if boars were actually stubborn enough to warrant the comparison. Then he shook it off and walked to his horse, swinging himself into the saddle.
"Leon."
Sir Leon rode closer. "Yes, my lord?"
"New orders. Follow an hour behind with eight men-at-arms and four archers. Catch up with us on the main road."
"Yes, my lord."
Arthur gestured to the others and rode through the gates, the riders following, their hoofbeats echoing under the archway.