#foa:arthur

[lorweaver]

Frost of Avalon WIP Page

Keywords: King Arthur, Fantasy, Young Adult, Slow Burn, Strong Female Expected CW: Fantasy Violence Content: excerpts, characters, content

“Sorry, Sir, but we have a score to settle...”

“Well,” Kay called. “Arrest us. We’re fugitives, aren’t we?”

The men exchanged glances and murmurs before hesitantly restrained them. “What do we do now?” One whispered to the soldier beside him.

“You fetch the superior in charge and call Sir Ulster. What do you think you do?” Kay asked as if directing the arrest of someone else.

The men nodded before sending one of themselves to follow his instructions. Arthur remembered how he’d once led his own men. Then the commander came.

“I see you’ve done the unwise.” Sir Ulster crossed his arms as he regarded them. Then he sighed at Kay. “I had hoped you'd disappear, so we wouldn’t have to get involved.”

“Sorry, Sir, but we have a score to settle. I don’t take kindly to being called a thief, let alone letting my little brother be accused of such.”

“And the wizard?” Sir Ulster asked, a quick glance telling him Merlin hadn’t come along.

“He’s around,” Gawain said.

“Who—”

“He’s with us,” Kay said, stepping closer to Gawain. “Now, Arthur.” He turned toward him so everyone else did the same.

“Send a message to Lot,” Arthur began in a rigid voice. “Arthur, son of Sir Ector, presents him an invitation. I have the sword and the stone maiden. If it chooses him, I will let him have it. If not, he will silence himself on the matter forever.” Then, he lowered his chin and glowered at the absent enemy he spoke to. “If not, I will open the tomb of Pendragon and set a risen king on him myself.”

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[lorweaver]

Frost of Avalon WIP Page

Keywords: King Arthur, Fantasy, Young Adult, Slow Burn, Strong Female Expected CW: Fantasy Violence Content: excerpts, characters, content

Arthur could see her. Because he made that known, others did too.

She left Mel looking after her and floated through the crowd. A pain she couldn’t identify stung her chest and then she stopped, her eyes wide. People walked around her––not seeing her––as if she were a ghost again. She examined her hand, wondering if she’d disappeared. Flesh, bone. Her breath came choppy and tears stung her eyes. She was solid, so why didn’t anyone look at her?

Fear coiled in her stomach. Would she go unnoticed like before? She clamped her eyes shut. She wouldn’t cry. Pain climbed up her throat, scratched the back of her nose, and burned her eyes, but she refused to cry. The capability should be beyond her! What happened to the ice that protected her heart?

“Carys…”

Carys’s eyes flew open. Arthur stood before her a few steps out of reach. The only one, it seemed, who could see her. His thoughts did not show, but his eyes were intense. They read her like an open book and decided on a course of action.

“I was just on my way back.” She wished her voice sounded stronger, but she couldn’t make it obey her.

He offered a hand. “Come along then.”

Carys stared, wanting to take it but hesitant. What was he doing to her? She bit her lip and lifted trembling fingers. Arthur curled his around them and drew her to his side. He guided her through the crowd, and people noticed at her again. Relief washed over Carys like a wall of wind through the trees. That’s right. Arthur could see her. Because he made that known, others did too.

Carys squeezed Arthur’s hand but didn’t catch his solemn glance at her. His grip on her tightened, and something wonderful and painful burst through her heart, but a cold clamp snuffed it out as soon as it came. She must have imagined it.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Carys whispered.

He paused outside of the Battle Divide booth, not releasing her hand. “Tell me what you want, Carys.”

A flicker of determination lightened the gloom off her face. “You don’t have to keep worrying about everyone, Arthur. Least of all me. I’m here to help you.”

“Help me, hm?” A sad though amused look rose on his face. “If only you could.”

Carys lifted her head, and his eyes softened. “Mel taught me this one," she said. "Challenge accepted.”

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[lorweaver]

Frost of Avalon WIP Page

Keywords: King Arthur, Fantasy, Young Adult, Slow Burn, Strong Female Expected CW: Fantasy Violence Content: excerpts, characters, content

“Free her.”

A weight, so heavy not even Arthur’s grip on the sword could hold him in place, slammed into Arthur and blasted him sideways. Shouts rose all around him, and he looked in time to see a vicious mouth snap toward him. Then a sword ripped through the white wolf’s side and sent it spiraling sideways. Arthur accepted Lot's offered hand.

“You’re losing your touch, Arthur,” Lot said.

“I appreciate your assistance,” Arthur replied. He knew better than to mock an ally’s aid. Even a begrudging one. It seemed Gawain’s words and Lot’s dependency on Arthur had earned Arthur Lot’s help. At least for now.

Lot twisted around and tore through another wolf coming for Arthur. “Rally to the king!” Lot shouted. His retainers, Gawain, Kay, and some confused looking soldiers of the keep circled them.

“They’ve come for you, Arthur!” Kay said as they fought the wolves back.

“What?” Arthur said. Their maimed and partially skinned bodies made them terrifying. Most’s attempt to avoid Kay did not escape Arthur’s notice. A few even whined when Kay glared at them. “How do you know?” Arthur asked.

“Who do they keep trying to get to?” Kay shouted.

“What kind of wolves are these?” a soldier cried.

“Timberwolves!” Gawain kicked one back, so it whined and skid into two others.

Arthur froze. The one Lot had run through righted itself, and its grotesque wounds stitched back together. “Undead timberwolves,” Arthur realized.

“Arthur, we don’t have weapons capable of vanquishing the undead!” Gawain roared.

“Merlin!” Arthur turned to find the wizard protecting Carys by twirling and extending his staff at the wolves targeting her. One dug its claws into the flap of her coat. The stone broke apart and Arthur shouted. They weren’t only after him. They wanted Carys too!

A hand latched onto Arthur’s shoulder and turned him around.

“Go,” Lot said. “Free her.”

Arthur nodded. “Kay, Gawain!”

“Clearing a path, My King!” Gawain replied as he stepped in front of Arthur. Using two swords, he mowed down the first several wolves bearing at them. Kay charged forward next, a shield on his arm, and pummeled through more. Gawain slid out from under Kay’s shield and thrust his sword up into the stomach of one that had leapt over the others. Then Kay fell to his knee and held his shield over his head.

Arthur sprinted toward him, jumped onto the shield, and then Kay pushed him off. Arthur shot like a bullet over the remaining pack. Merlin stepped forward as Arthur landed and generated a jagged, clear shield. Arthur wrapped his fingers around Caliburn's hilt and pulled.

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[lorweaver]

Frost of Avalon WIP Page

Keywords: King Arthur, Fantasy, Young Adult, Slow Burn, Strong Female Expected CW: Fantasy Violence Content: excerpts, characters, content

“Unavoidable. Father locked me in.”

Carys stretched her arms and slid her cheek across a rabbit-soft blanket. The fox she’d saved yawned beside her, and she pet his head before hugging a pillow against her face. The scent of fennel and spice wafted from the fibers, and her muscles unraveled like a sigh.

Wait…

A man’s chuckle made her shoot upright, and her eyes opened on Arthur. He drank tea at a small table near her, its steam rolling off his face before he greeted her shock with a smile.

The obvious struck Carys like a club, but she deflected it with indifference—until she discovered herself in a white nightgown and not the uniform she fell asleep in. She drew the sheets atop her head like a hood and teetered to her feet, the fox shuffling off the bed before she stepped on him.

“What am I doing in this place?” Carys asked while looking down her nose at Arthur.

“Merlin and I happened upon you last night. It’s against my policy to let a lady sleep in the snow.” Arthur acted nonchalant, but he looked way too satisfied with himself. He went on as if she wasn’t trying to burn a hole between his eyes, “We have many rooms to accommodate guests—none of them prepared. That is my bed you’re in.” He nodded toward the pillow she had cuddled.

Carys snorted. “Who gave you permission to steal me away? I chose that place.” She had grasped a feeble ounce of control over her circumstances at the pond. How dare he snatch it away by spiriting her to his home! She didn’t care about good intentions, and she definitely didn’t believe his reasoning the whole truth. Carys remembered Arthur being kind, but she also remembered him considering his every action with meticulous calculation.

“Perhaps. But if the school had found you, you would be at a workhouse instead of resting in a borrowed bed.”

“Do you think that frightens me?” Carys snarled.

Arthur tilted his head, interested that it didn’t. And with nothing else to offer, he said no more.

“Why are you with me?” she asked.

“Unavoidable. Father locked me in,” Arthur replied in anticipation. “We debated on the appropriateness, but he decided it mattered more your questions received answers upon awakening.”

“Than my privacy?” she asked.

He offered her a strained smile, seeming uncomfortable with the idea himself.

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[lorweaver]

Frost of Avalon WIP Page

Keywords: King Arthur, Fantasy, Young Adult, Slow Burn, Strong Female Expected CW: Fantasy Violence Content: excerpts, characters, content

“...they’d not wish for it if they knew it took a lifetime of battle and coming back from the dead to earn such an intimidating look.”

“Salute!” Arthur called, his sword point up and held at his chest. It leveled between his sharp eyes set ahead as if intending to collide against a foe.

The members swung their swords from their side and mimicked his stance. Some wondered how to imitate the fierceness of his expression, but they’d not wish for it if they knew it took a lifetime of battle and coming back from the dead to earn such an intimidating look. Not in this comfortable era where people didn’t regularly die by the sword.

Tension coiled around them as they regarded one another. Then, Arthur slid his left foot forward and curved down at the young man two people to his right.

The boys between them froze, not daring to breathe. Their first meet with Arthur had proved his blade true. They could avoid injury so long as they didn’t move—even if it looked like they stood in his way. But he swung close, and that made them sweat.

The student he aimed at went wide-eyed, hardly catching the blade for Arthur’s speed. He ground his teeth against Arthur’s strength and winced as the steel shrieked like dueling harpies.

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