The Lark of Albion: Chapter One
Summary: The reader tires of her meaningless expectations and duties as Princess of Camelot. Her father's continuous disappointment and her brother, Arthur's endless boasting drive her to indulge her adventurous side. This is an ongoing series.
Authors note: It’s certainly been a while since the writing bug has visited me. Merlin has always had a place in my heart and Sir Leon is a long standing crush of mine. I hope you enjoy this short story. Sending you all love and well wishes in the new year.
The princess had just about heard enough of her father’s dreary remarks on trade relations and her brother’s training. How it was coming along ‘just marvelously’ and ‘how he was more and more proud of the man he was becoming each day’. Well, maybe that last part was a bit of a stretch. Surely Uther would never be able to state such a thing out loud to his eldest child. But the sentiment was clear as crystal for everyone at the table, except of course Arthur who, ever confident in front of everyone but their father, failed to grasp what wasn’t spelled out right in front of him.
“Tomorrow I want you to join me in the village.” Uther took a long sip of his wine before continuing. “I’d like for you to come with me to meet with the blacksmith to see about some new equipment for the knights.”
“My Lord,” Morgana tilted her perfect, milky face in confusion. “You never see about those things personally, why now?”
“Leave it to you to question the king.” Arthur retorted with a sneer.
“And-“ Uther continued as if he hadn’t heard either of them. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to have some new armor made. Tourney season is only a few months away and I intend for Camelot’s Prince to continue his reign as champion. There can be no mistakes made, especially in your gear.”
It wasn’t uncommon for the princess to exchange a knowing look with Morgana from across the table. Although the two were not sisters by blood they almost always knew just what the other was thinking. As Morgana’s striking emerald eyes met her own, it was obvious they both knew that Arthur would be over the moon.
Arthur nodded his blond head earnestly.
“Of course father.” She tried not to laugh. He always tried to be so stoic in front of their father but a hint of a smile still appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I look forward to it.”
“Father, might I be able to come too?” She piped up before she could stop herself. “I promise I won’t get in the way, but it could be fun to get out of the palace.” Uther was shaking his head before she could finish.
“Absolutely not.” His eyes were hard and unwavering. “It’s no place for a princess.”
“Besides, you'd find it terribly dull.” Arthur added.
“I wouldn’t! I’d love to do something different, it wouldn’t matter what it was.” She argued back, heat beginning to flush across her cheeks.
“Please, you couldn’t stand missing your 4 hour bath.”
“Enough!” Uther slammed his goblet down. “My dove, your place is here and that’s final. Now, can we please finish our dinner in peace?”
“Of course Father.” Said Arthur.
“Yes Father.” The princess begrudgingly returned her gaze to her plate.
Once all bickering was finished, the evening passed by uneventfully and the princess found herself wishing she was anywhere else as her maid, Gwen, readied her for bed. She was dressed in a satin nightgown, trimmed with lace that graced the floor as she walked. Her hair was washed with rose oils and set in curls to be unfurled in the morning. Any woman in the kingdom would all but kill to be in her place. Yet she still wanted more.
After bidding her goodnights to Gwen she set to work. She wouldn’t be obedient. She wouldn’t be the perfect princess, it was all too hard an image to maintain. The endless rules and expectations she could never hope to summit weighed on her daily. Princesses were supposed to be quiet, demure, agreeable, and polite. Yet she had been cursed with a voracity for life that could not be tempered, and tongue that could not be held. She wanted to be without restriction. To be as wild as she wished. To be beyond what she could imagine within the palace walls.
The castle was quiet at night. Only a few hallways were lit and guards were stationed only every so often. And since the young woman knew it all like the back of her hand, it wasn’t too difficult for her to find herself in the laundry rooms. Finding a simple frock in a plain brown, rather than the jewel tones she was accustomed to wearing, was easy enough. ‘I’ll return it in the morning.’ She told herself. Finding her way out of the castle walls and into the night was even easier. Their current state of peace in the kingdom made the castle guards more inclined to a drink or two, making it all too easy for the princess to slip past them unnoticed.
The streets of Camelot were alive with lights and laughter. The castle’s early night had no impact on the townspeople, who were only just beginning their evening. The princess did her best to hide her telltale curls beneath her veil, afraid of being recognized. But the city paid her no attention. Women laughed and smiled as they skipped down the cobblestoned streets in groups. She saw a couple sneak a kiss under an archway, her cheeks flared in embarrassment, or was it envy? Either way everyone seemed to be making their way to a brightly lit tavern down the way. Lively music flowed from the doors and windows and she found herself itching to dance, a smile covering her face.
The inside of the tavern was almost achingly hot, the warmth of the fire reaching every corner of the room. The seemingly endless number of people didn’t help, bodies pressed firmly against one another as everyone tried their best to reach the bar. The princess was nearly knocked to the floor as a boisterous man and his partner shoved past her, yelling for another round.
“Miss, are you alright?” A tall stranger reached out his hand, pulling her back to her feet.
“Yes, quite, all thanks to you.” She blushed even harder. It was undeniable the man was handsome. Sharp features framing deep eyes, his dark locks accentuating smooth, marble skin, it was hard not to lose one’s breath. His look was only of concern.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before Miss-”
“Mirabel.” She swiftly lied. “And no, it’s my first time. I’m not usually one to be out this late.”
“Well Miss Mirabel.” The handsome stranger grinned. “I would be most honored to buy you a drink this evening. After all, it’s not every night I’m blessed to escort a lady such as yourself.” The princess was overwhelmed. Usually the men she met were too intimidated by her title to offer her such chivalry.
“That would be lovely, Sir-” She paused with a flirty grin.
“Florian.” He swiftly kissed her hand.
“Sir Florian.” She smiled. ‘Keep it together, you’re only here for the night.” She told herself. “I would absolutely love a drink”
“Right away Miss Mirabel.” He turned away with a flourish, the crowd seemingly parting around him. The princess pushed her way through the almost endless number of people to find an empty table to sit at. The patrons seemed to be dancing on air, their spirits as light as the ale they drank. She couldn't help but be influenced by their joy, a giddy grin taking over her face even before Florian had returned with two dangerously full mugs.
“These aren’t too strong are they?” She asked, taking a cautious sip. Florian just laughed.
“Of course not, as long as you have a tolerance. Don’t you?” He asked pointedly with an unmistakably wicked grin.
“Oh of course.” The princess lied. She’d never had more than a glass or two of wine at state dinners. “This should be nothing.” She took a large gulp of the bitter liquid, expertly masking her disgust. The ale burned her stomach, but made her head spin in an irresistible way. She wanted more. Before she knew it she’d polished off her glass and was asking for another, and Florian was all too obliging.
Soon she was spinning under the candlelight without a care in the world. Florian’s arm strong around her waist. His sultry voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear. And the Princess was too high in the clouds to care much what he said. Only that he was seemingly kind, handsome, and paying for her night of freedom. She hardly noticed when his fingers began to dig harder into her arms, red marks making their way onto her skin. Only when his lips pressed firmly against her collarbone did she speak up.
“If you would excuse me, I think I need a moment.” Her head spun. She’d never been touched like this. And although her understanding was that women generally enjoyed this kind of attention, she wasn’t all too sure that she did. Florian was a handsome man, and seemingly kind. But his touch made her feel guilty, almost sick to her stomach. She knew she had to get away.
“What, so soon?” His strong hand gripped her wrist tightly. “Darling, the night’s just beginning?”
“I do apologize.” She feigned a smile. “I just need a moment’s rest. I’ll be back before you know I’ve gone.” She lied, keeping her eyes on the door. The hand on her wrist tightened painfully.
“I’m sorry my dear, I’m afraid I just don’t believe you.” He smirked, his eyes sharpening. The princess cursed herself internally. ‘This is why Father never lets you leave, this is why Arthur never brings you on his adventures.’ She scolded herself as Florian began to pull her towards the door. Unlike her brother, she had never been trained in combat. Which was becoming increasingly clear as her attempts to kick and pull away gave her no advantage to the much larger assailant. Just as she was about to be dragged out the door, someone stepped into their path.
“Excuse me, but I believe the lady has no interest in going with you.” The princess would have recognized him anywhere. Deep golden curls, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, that devastatingly stern look in his ice blue eyes.
“Sir Leon?” She gasped. Florian only tightened his grip.
“Apologies, but I don’t believe you’ve any idea what the lady does or doesn’t want. Now if you’ll excuse us-” Florian was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.
“I’m afraid it wasn’t a suggestion.” Leon responded with a stoney glare, his other hand now settled firmly on the gilded hilt of his sword. The princess' heart stopped. Surely he didn’t mean to draw it? Her nausea worsened at the thought of Sir Leon needlessly engaging in combat due to her inability to control herself. Thankfully it was unnecessary. She let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding as Florian’s grip vanished and he melted back into the crowd as seamlessly as he’d first appeared. Her relief didn’t last long however, as Sir Leon lowered his gaze to meet hers. “Princess” He all but whispered. “Are you unhurt?”
“Yes, I- I’m alright.” She answered, all too aware of Sir Leon’s large hand that now gently gripped her elbow. She couldn’t tell if it was the ale or his touch that sent heat radiating through her body, her cheeks most certainly flushed, her pulse fast and unsteady. She only hoped he wasn’t picking up on these tells as he glanced over her, confirming that she was, in fact, safe.
“Then I would be amiss if I didn’t tell you how completely reckless this was.” The princess shrunk a bit at his stern look. “What were you thinking? And coming here, of all places? Anything could have happened to you.”
“I just-” She struggled to find her words. “I’ve never seen the city, and everyone’s always so careful around me at court. I wanted to see what it would be like if I weren’t royalty, if I didn’t have to be so proper all the time.” His gaze softened as he let out a deep breath .
“I’m just relieved you’re unharmed.” He held out his arm for her to take, always the gentleman. “I should take you home.”
The cold air bit at the princess’ cheeks as they walked silently down the now empty street. She tried not to stumble too much but she was finding it difficult to hide her state of inebriation. Being so uninhibited she couldn’t help but peer up at Sir Leon’s handsome features. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t noticed him before. Sir Leon had been practically raised at court, Arthur and him were almost inseparable for much of their youth. But somewhere upon his entry into the kingsguard the princess hadn’t been able to ignore just how attractive he’d become. How noble, and chivalrous. Something she’d whispered to Morgana about on more than one occasion, but she’d never been so close to him before. She’d never been so close to any man save her father and brother once she thought of it, save for- the memory of Florian’s painful grip digging into her waist flashed back into her mind. Suddenly embarrassment simmered in her chest. How ridiculous that Sir Leon was having to end his night early because of her careless stupidity. When she spoke she felt as though she’d rather have crawled under a rock than be imposing on him in such a way.
“Sir Leon, I must apologize.” Her feet halted as her words hung in the air. Confusion clouded his face.
“Whatever for, Princess?” She took a breath before answering.
“For ruining your night! I’m sure you were having a perfectly pleasant evening before having to rescue me. And now for having to leave early because I don’t know how to look after myself.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. A hint of a smile tugged at the edge of Leon’s mouth.
“Your apology is unnecessary. Truthfully, I’d been playing cards and was about to lose an awful lot of money before I noticed your predicament.” The princess couldn’t help but laugh. “So really it was you who saved me.” His smile now beaming across his features as he continued leading them closer to the castle. “But still. Your apology is accepted.” She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well good, I wouldn’t be able to bear it if you were upset with me Sir Knight!” She giggled as she took in their surroundings. “This isn’t the main entrance?”
“I don’t imagine you want the whole court learning of your adventure do you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. The princess blushed. She didn’t even want to begin to imagine her father’s reaction if he were to hear about this. Let alone what exaggerations the staff might whisper amongst themselves.
“I suppose not.” She stopped as they reached an archway that she knew led straight to the kitchens. “Thank you, Sir Leon. For saving me, and for the company after.” She smiled up at him.
“You are most welcome, Princess.” He smiled back.
Of course he wasn’t letting her wander the castle halls alone at night. While the castle was well guarded, Leon was all too aware of how dangerous characters could make their way past their defenses, and he wasn’t taking any chances with the princess’s safety. They moved silently through the empty halls, Leon making sure to avoid any active patrols, and before she knew it they were approaching the door to her quarters.
“This is where I bid you goodnight, Princess.” Leon spoke softly, his golden eyelashes nearly obscuring his cerulean eyes. The young woman couldn’t bring herself to break his gaze. Her heart began to pound again as she noticed his gently parted lips, how his skin glowed under the candlelight. ‘How soft his lips must feel.’ She wondered absentmindedly. For a moment she thought she saw his pulse pounding beneath the alabaster skin just below his jaw. ‘Does he feel this heat as well?’ The question slammed into her without warning. And before she could be stopped by her clearer judgement that the ale had banished to the back of her mind, she found herself on tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss against his stubbled cheek. Maybe it was the lowlight, but she could have sworn she saw warmth flush his cheeks.
“Goodnight, Sir Leon.” She all but whispered. And before she could do anything even more reckless, she tiptoed into the luxurious solitude of her bedroom, and closed the heavy door behind her.
