King of Kernow

“Oh - yes, of course,” Brangaine nodded, knowing she probably shouldn’t but, as always, her desire to be near Mark drowning out her common sense. She tried to tell herself it was her duty to aid her king in what capacity he needed, but in her heart she knew there would be little that she, as a handmaiden, would know that he wouldn’t. She just wanted to walk by him a little bit longer. “What do you want to know?”

Mark thought for a moment. “Anything that could possibly be dismissed by the official sources for being too ordinary but might actually be useful?” he suggested with a small shrug. “I hear the castle staff often knows more about what’s actually going on than the masters of the house.” If was good to keep one’s eyes and ears open to even the unlikeliest sources.

“I haven’t seen my family in a long time …” Brangaine admitted, biting down on her lip. Could she face them, face her mother, after everything she had done? Could she face Isolde’s mother? Adding more lies to her seemingly never any ending list. “I would be gone for a while, though. Perhaps it might be best just to start with a picnic,” she said finally, deciding, as ever, not to examine her worries too closely.

Mark smiled and nodded a little. “Good, I’m glad you’re willing to take small steps. I must say I never would’ve thought it would be so hard to convince someone to take some time off,” he chuckled. “Now, I think the sheep is long gone but I’m going to have to alert the king’s men anyway. Just to make sure. You wouldn’t want to come with me, would you? You could catch me up on anything I might have missed in the meantime.”

“I … don’t really know what I would do with myself if I took a break,” Brangaine admitted, a frown netting her eyebrows together. Although she got on with the other maids, she had always kept herself at a distance, afraid of anyone discovering her secrets, and had little in the way of real friends to spend time with. And these days she didn’t much care to be alone with her thoughts.

“You could go on a retreat,” Mark suggested. “Take a horse and go on a ride. Have a picnic. The options are endless. You deserve a break, Brangaine.” He knew she worked hard and would hate to see her work herself into exhaustion. “Or you could visit your family? I’d make sure you have a retinue with you if that is what you’d like to do.”

“It does make sense. It’s how I feel whenever I travel between Camelot and Cornwall. I expect I would feel that way if I ever went home,” Brangaine assured him. “I suppose it’s like a person getting older. They look different, but inside they’re still the same.” She shrugged. “Yes, I have. I’ve tried to make myself useful and help where I can. There’s still a lot of rebuilding going on, so every pair of hands has been needed.”

“That’s very good of you,” Mark nodded with a smile. “You deserve some time off, have you considered taking a break?” He knew Brangaine had always been working very hard and was genuinely concerned about her well-being. “I’m sure the castle repairs would go on even without one pair of helping hands.”

“I’d hardly say it’s the best, but I do appreciate the thoughtful comment. I will make sure to let the Queen know just how lucky she is.”

“A scandal.” Brangaine laughed, light and easy, in a way she hadn’t for some time. Guilt prickled at the back of her neck, but she resolutely pushed it down; it felt good to stand and laugh with Mark, to see him smiling and at ease, and she didn’t want it to be spoiled. “I appreciate your gallantry. I don’t know that I know very much, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Not much is still more than I can tell, so every little helps. I feel as if every time I leave Camelot, the place changes while seeming all the same at the same time. I know it doesn’t make much sense. But I suppose that is the beauty of this place. Have you kept yourself busy?”

“It is not” Eleanor replied, laughing and patting the animal once more before she made to stand, “This poor dear must have escaped the flock. Or is there perhaps a herd of them around the corner?” she joked good-naturedly as she rose to her feet and dipped a quick curtsy before asking, “Were you chasing after him then?”

“Kings do not chase after animals,” he replied with a smirk on his face. “But you could say I was following in its footsteps to ensure nobody would get harmed.” Mark looked around. “I didn’t see any more sheep on the loose so I think it’s safe to assume it’s the only one. How it managed to get all the way here without anyone noticing it is beyond me.”

“How thoughtful of you, that you would take time off your schedule to send this. I thank you, dear admirer, whoever you may be.”

“Well, that was very rude of it. Clearly it has no sense of protocol,” Brangaine said, a laugh playing around her lips though she was trying her best to keep a straight face. This was certainly one of the most bizarre conversations she had ever had, and if it were anyone other than Mark she would suspect she was being made out a fool. “I shall be sure to be on my guard.”

“I know, it didn’t even bow,” Mark laughed. “Anyway, I should probably accompany you in the corridor until we’re sure it’s safe. You can catch me up on what’s been going on around here, perhaps?” he suggested.

Much of her childhood had been spent in Cornwall. Before she had been sent away though some of her life had been here too. Whenever she wasn’t at the orphanage she had taken to wandering the castle to see if she could chase down some memories. Unfortunately, her search hadn’t been incredibly fruitful but she had suspected that it wouldn’t be. She had been a sickly little thing after all. While wandering she usually ran into a few guards or guest of the castle here and there but never had she encountered a sheep within these walls. The poor thing had rounded the corner rather quickly and had stopped when it became entangled in her skirts. Eleanor was a little indignant about being bowled over by a sheep but recognized the hilarity of the situation. She pulled herself into a sitting position and reached for the scared animal, ‘You poor thing” she said, extending a hand to pet it, “Now, someone must be looking for you. Where could they be?”

When Mark decided to follow after the sheep, the last thing he imagined he’d see when he turned around a corner was a princess sitting on the ground, petting the said sheep. “I see you came across my tormentor,” he said with an amused smile, bowing when he got Eleanor’s attention. “Or is the animal yours, Your Highness?” He took a step closer to the curious scene in front of him, ready to offer a helping hand should she need it.

“A sheep?” Brangaine repeated, looking around in confusion as thought she might stop a cloud of white wool hiding behind a statue or peeking out from behind a tapestry. It sounded fantastical, but she knew Mark was not a liar nor had she had seen him be prone to exaggeration. “Why is there a sheep in the castle?”

“I was about to ask it when it ran away and disappeared on me,” Mark joked, rubbing the back of his head with hand cluelessly. “And now it seems that it’s trying to make me seem like a fool. Who knew the sheep of Camelot carry so much malice?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “The trickster sheep of Camelot. You ought to be careful.”

Brangaine was taking an armful of fresh linen to the Queen’s chambers when she heard the unmistakeable timbre of Mark’s voice - she knew it so well she could pick it out even in the middle of a crowd - and paused. It sounded as if something were wrong, a thought which instinctively made her insides twist with worry. But when she turned and followed the sound around a corner she found only the king by himself, looking around a hallway in what seemed to be utter bewilderment. “Your Majesty …? Is everything alright?”

Mark turned to face the incoming person and smiled when he recognised Brangaine. “Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he laughed, shaking his head. “To be honest, I’m beginning to think maybe I just imagined it. But,” he looked around as if he hoped the animal would reappear suddenly. “I was chasing.. a sheep.” Good thing no courtiers saw him, his reputation would surely suffer.

“I suppose so - for tonight, anyway. Who knows if I’ll be able to tell who they are tomorrow,” Brangaine said with a smile. She didn’t really want to leave him - she never did - but perhaps it was best to regain some distance and wrestle her feelings back under control. “Thank you again, for looking out for me.”

Mark chuckled. “True. But that’s also what makes these events so interesting, isn’t it?” he said encouragingly. “It was nothing, really. We need to look out for each other. Away from home.” He led her towards the refreshments table and let go off her hand, taking a bow. There was somebody approaching him and he could only hope it was not for any state matters. He hoped, at the same time, that she would not be left standing about for too long.

“I’m sure there will be,” Brangaine said, more to comfort him than anything else. Once she had believed with all her heart that no sadness could last forever and that somehow things would always get better. These days she wasn’t so sure. “Oh, um, I’m not really sure … with the masks, it’s difficult to tell,” she said, glancing around as she spoke. “I think I did see one lady I know, with Sir Tristan.”

“You should go talk to her, have some fun. With all the masks, maybe you discover some new friends, too.” Perhaps it was easier to meet new people when you both were hiding behind a mask, he thought. There was something about it that made it seem less pressuring.