Excalibur's Seven - Chapter 45: Chapter 45

EURION OPENED HER EYES to the sun, high in the sky and soaking into her skin. The floor beneath her was rocking, and when she sat up, she knew why. She was on a ship, with a full, gleeful crew of all women. And Chalice. They were there, too, sitting next to her.
"Hey, stranger," she told them.
Chalice turned their head and smiled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah... I think so. Where are we?"
"Wherever you want to be."
She didn't know when she got off the boat, but now her friends were fighting off men while she snuck into a room. There was a chest, and she and Chalice lifted it up, running through the chaos and tossing it onto the ship.
The men tried to follow, but they left before they could do a thing, and she and her girls spat in their faces as they sailed away.
She was somewhere else now. The sky was darker, and she was holding the best rum she'd ever had in her life. She was bathing in gold and women and alcohol, with Chalice next to her, looking at her with a warm smile.
It wasn't the money or the girls or the alcohol that made her chest swell, though. It was the thought that she mattered, that she had a family, that she never had to worry about having nothing again. She had everything she ever wanted.
The trees were tall and the grass was green in Fells. Once upon a time, it was the only thing that redeemed the impoverished village. The buildings were ancient and ready to topple over and crush the residents at any moment, but they used their magic to hold them up.
They didn't need to do that anymore. The village was healthy and thriving, with buildings that were renovated and safe, and Chalice was never prouder to be a druid of Fells.
They climbed up onto the rock that hovered over the lake, giving them a full view of the prosperous village and the sparkling water and the hills that rolled on for miles.
"How are you faster than me at getting up here?" Eurion panted, climbing up the rock and joining the druid's side.
"It's probably because I started climbing first." They laughed at Eurion's groan.
"Okay, smartass, it wasn't that long after you."
Chalice didn't pay attention to banter anymore. They were watching a man teach his child to fish.
Fells never stopped being beautiful. But for the first time since the rule of Arthur's grandson, they weren't suffering. Their eyes were bright and their smiles wide, their homes safe to live in and their bellies full.
"Fells has returned to it's true glory," said Chalice. "It's all I've ever wanted."
They wanted to stay there on that rock forever.
Wind whipped through Selene's hair as she soared through the fields on her mare. There was a castle on the lakeside, and she had to be there ten minutes ago.
She sprinted into the castle the moment she could no longer use her horse, traveling up a stair tower until she reached the room she was meant to be in.
Giselle was there, but she wasn't at the Table. She sat behind Selene's chair, waiting for her to sit.
"So sorry I'm late," she said, kissing her princess on the cheek. "It won't happen again."
"It better not," Giselle said firmly, but full of love.
Selene settled at the table, looking around at the table. It was pleasing to see. There were only a few men, one being her nephew. This was no longer only a man's place.
"I am not the head of the Round Table," she said. "There is no second. Do you know why Arthur made the table round?"
No one spoke, so she carried on.
"It's because none of us are more important than another. The Knights have been flawed for years. But now we're here. And we're here for our people, not ourselves. We'll bring peace and glory back to Avalon."
Finally, she had everything she wanted.
Giselle's dress was the most extravagant one she'd ever seen a person wear, and she made it look like a dream. Selene was watching her from across the room, eyes wide and jaw agape.
She placed a finger under the Lady's chin and snapped her mouth shut, then placed a kiss on her lips. "Keep your jaw attached to your mouth, my love, I'd hate to see you jawless at the party."
It was their anniversary, and she was throwing a bash. Downstairs in the ballroom, all her friends were there, but most importantly, Lionel was there.
Her hand met her stomach on instinct. Recently, she'd felt dizzy in the morning. She didn't want to think much of it, but every time she saw the child, she hoped.
The music was lively, and Giselle danced around with the boy until their feet hurt. And then she danced more, when the music slowed and Selene was holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
It was paradise, just being there with Selene. Whatever happened in the future, she just wanted her love there with her.
And that would be enough.
"Just admit it, dad, I won," Lionel bragged. He was older than six now, and he was already as good as his father. At least, that's what he told himself.
Kit was on the ground, and he let Lionel think he had him beat, just for a minute.
He rolled over in one swift move, pointing the sword at his son's neck. "Nope. You're dead. Don't let your guard down until you know your opponent can't fight back when you ease up."
Lionel watched him with wide eyes. He was such a good knight. He was so cool and so charming and he wanted to be just like him.
He was older again, though not by much, and Kit handed him a sword with tears in his eyes. "Welcome to knighthood, my boy. You'll save the world someday. Just like me."
"Just like you."
Morgana woke up in a bed. His bed, but it was different. He turned his head to look out a nearby window, and the trees were covered in white. He shot up to his feet, running for the door.
He paused when he passed a mirror. He hated his reflection, but he just wanted to see.
It was gone. The cracked cheeks, the blood in his scleras, the scars and the black hair and everything that reminded him of how weak he was. He looked strong, normal, healthy. He felt powerful.
It took a minute, but eventually he stepped away and threw open the door, stepping out into the chilly breeze. It was snowy. He was in the Winter Kingdom.
He wasn't alone.
He tiptoed over to the stream, sheltered by thick trees and tall foliage. In the water, he found a shirtless Kit washing the dirt from his body. Morgana's eyes wandered, but he pulled them away. What was he doing?
When he turned to go back into the house, Kit called to him.
"Can we talk?"
"Put on some clothes and meet me inside," Morgana replied. He didn't dare get rid of his moody tone, but Kit chose to hear playful, he was sure.
When he got back in the house, Kit was already there. His shirt was white and hanging open, and his pants were high-waisted. His boots made him look more like a pirate than a prince, but Morgana didn't mind it.
He didn't know what he was doing when he stretched out his hand, like he wanted to touch him.
Kit took the outstretched hand and pulled him close until they were only inches away from each other. It was wrong, he should've pushed him away, but his heart was pounding and he just needed to know one thing.
"Do you think I'm a bad man, Kit?"
Kit's eyes softened. "I think you're a tired, wounded man doing his best. You don't need to be good to be worth it. Just don't be terrible."
"Do you trust me?"
The prince studied him, then pulled him even closer, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "I trust you, Morgana. I'd trust you with my life."
It wasn't until Kit started to get even closer than Morgana started to fight.
"I got what I wanted, let me go," he murmured.
Kit furrowed his brow, pulling his face back. "What?"
"I got what I wanted. Just let... me... go."
Morgana sat up with a jolt, heart pounding in his chest. That couldn't have been right. That wasn't what he desired, it was everything he despised. And he didn't care what Kit thought of him. At all.
"That bitch is a fucking liar," he spat and stormed for the door.
He couldn't get the image out of his damn head.
Kit wanted a lot of things. But the thing he wanted the most was a break. He wanted the sun on his skin and someone to hold and to enjoy himself again. He hadn't relaxed in a long time.
His eyes were still closed, but he knew he was lying on a rolling green hill, surrounded by flowers and the warm sun kissing his golden skin.
And then a person was kissing his skin. His calf, then his thigh a few times. He let out a shudder when they reached his waist, stomach, ribs, chest. The lips stayed there for a minute, and out of habit, Kit curled his fingers into their hair. It was soft, long, wavy.
No one said anything when the lips pressed against his throat, other than Kit's light moans.
"Léona?" he finally asked. He got no reply. "Sera. You're Sera."
They moved over so they were hovering over him. He could feel their hair hanging down and tickling his face.
Finally, he dared to open his eyes.
He woke up a second later with a tight anger in his chest, one he didn't want to feel again. It was bloody Morgana.
He left his room with an angry slam of the door. He marched along until he reached the balcony for screaming. But before he could scream, he caught sight of Morgana heading right for the door.
He was leaving.
Kit raced for the stairs, throwing himself over the railing as soon as he knew he could stick the landing.
Morgana jumped at the sight of him and pulled out a dagger. Kit drew one of his own and positioned himself for a fight.
"You can't leave," he said.
"I can and I will. Mab said." His voice was sharp.
"You're going to get people killed."
Morgana laughed but there was no humor to it. "Oh, Kit, you stupid thing. You're the one getting people killed. You know what I dreamed about?"
Kit gulped.
"About you. You told me you trusted me. That's all I want, Kit, is for you to trust me. You know, we wouldn't have to deal with this if you would just listen to me. People don't have to die, but you're prepared to recruit an army because your daddy didn't love you."
"That's not what this is about and you know it." Kit shot his arm out to grab Morgana. "Think about this, Morgana. Please. I need you to trust that I won't let your people get hurt if I save you. I'll make sure of it."
Morgana's blade dug into Kit's hand and out the back, knocking his dagger to the ground and pulling out a pained groan.
"Don't touch me," he gritted. "I'm leaving, you can't do anything about it."
The faery marched for the door again, but Kit gripped his hood and yanked it back. He blocked a punch, delivered two, and kicked Morgana back against the wall. That got him close enough to the doors to throw them open and rush out into the freezing dawn.
Kit ran after him, but his foot got stuck. Morgana trapped his foot in ice, then his other, leaving him helpless and flailing in the cold.
"You seem to forget I'm more powerful in my own kingdom," Morgana sneered.
"You can't do this."
Morgana laughed. "I'd love to see you stop me, Kit."
"I will. I swear I will."
"Goodbye, Your Highness."
"Go to hell," Kit spat.
"Well, if this war you started goes south, then I'll see you there, my dear."
With that, Morgana was gone.