Here lay King Arthur, back up against a thick lush tree, breathing slow yet rough, a tiring, painful activity, surrounded by tall trees and grass on all sides, the king layed with the exalted sword Excalibur at his side, ever loyal to it's master, following him into battles both wrong and righteous.

Arthur closed his eyes and stared at the orange sky above, thinking about all he..no, SHE had done so far and what SHE had done wrong, for everything to go this horribly. Where had it all gone wrong she wondered?

She had abandoned her own womanhood, discarded her emotions, betrayed the hopes of those that so loyally followed her all for the sake of her people, for the sake of her nation.

From the moment she could lift a sword she had trained, worked hard, after drawing the sword from the stone she had presented herself male so that the masses would see no fault in their new perfect and ideal ruler. Granted Merlin had pushed for such a thing but it was her own choice in the end.

She, Artoria Pendragon, rightful ruler of Britain had amassed forces, aided others, crushed the tyrant that was her own uncle and brought an era of peace and prosperity at such a high cost, untainted by greed or desire, a selfless king.. Why then did it end in this way?

Her loyal knights, how glad she'd been when they had gathered up, forming the Round Table of Knights...

Each a hero that would surely be sung of in legends, 14 individuals that had put in no small amount of effort into realising HER ambitions.

Kay, her elder stepbrother, who had watched over her all the way, till the very end.. She would never hold him being unable to join her at Camlann against him.

Bedivere, who was oft teased by his fellow knights for his feminine disposition yet would never lose out to any in a competition, a humble and loyal knight.

Gawain, who was infectiously upright and far too cheery for others to handle him despite being among the strongest of those who followed her.

Tristan, who despite his tragic life had continued to follow her, succumbing to poison and treachery after he took his leave, calling her out on her lack of emotions and yet, she did not hold that against him.

T'was the truth.

Lancelot,... He had betrayed her, or so they claimed but that too, she never held against the man, his actions with her Queen was something she never loathed, how could she?

Such an alien thing was it not?

For a woman to marry a woman.

Agravain, he had ultimately fallen to Lancelot but he had served loyally up until his last moments even if Aston had hated him from the very bottom of his heart.. Even in the last more serious years of his life, he had hated the man for some reason they had never learnt..

And Aston...

The one knight none could spot on the battlefield yet knew was there for how many he had slain with his bloodthirsty way of combat despite his strangely kind nature.

He had joined her when she called for aid against the tyrant Vortigern and had always done as she commanded, with not a sign of annoyance or hesitation even when he had to do something he disliked... He had been there in all 12.. no, 13 battles they had fought.

He claimed he was just a villager before but how could that possibly be?

Artoria closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.. Could he not have just left as many others had after their dissatisfaction? Why did he not just live a life of peace after doing so much for her?

That was the one thing the King could never truly understand.. She knew he had joined her for his dislike of Vortigern's way and the suffering of her people, and despite his brash claims of being an 'asshole'.. She'd oft heard of him being off to aid some rural village others would think was inconsequential..

Ah.

He had stopped that after the death of Gareth hadn't he? ... Perhaps losing one he'd knighted had affected him far too much. Mordred.. He was his teacher too even if the traitor had betrayed all the man stood for..

In the end Aston had died before her very eyes, tearing through enemy lines to reach her.. Most certainly he had fought with reckless abandon to reach her side otherwise, how could he have been so injured?

In the end, he had only sought to stop her from an act she did anyway.

Bearing witness to his death herself was most likely what made the king linger on him so much..

Artoria found herself rudely pulled out from her final thoughts by heavy footsteps, the thudding of metal greaves. Forcing her eyes open, she put a hand over the wound in her stomach and gripped Excalibur with cautious eyes.

Caution that didn't last much longer when Bedivere came into view, he had carried her all this way, even when grieving..

"My King!" Bedivere rushed to her side, kneeling next to her in shock and worry.. His long gray was tied up as always and his armour portrayed the majesty of the Round Table, her Round Table, "We must hur-!"

"Sir Bedivere.."

Ever the loyal knight, Bedivere closed his mouth as soon as Artoria speak, listening on in frustrated silence, "I ask you.. this.." She weakly pushed Excalibur his way, "Return this to... the lady of the lake..." It would return to those who made it now that it had served it's purpose, a weapon too great for human hands..

"My King, this isn-"

"And... Sir Aston's.."

The dying words of her knight crossed Artoria's mind.

He had forgiven her for so much, forgiven her for all the requests she now saw as unreasonable having stopped suppressing her emotions to some degree.

He could forgive this little bit of selfishness could he not?

"No.. It is nothing.."

Artoria would not let his legend die, she would not strip him of his glory no matter what reasons he had for it.. He had served her loyally, killed for her and died for her. All would know that, of his life.

Bedivere, had some different thoughts as compared to his King, "Sir Aston... Could I be told where he is? I had heard he was far away when this.. tragedy occurred." He would seek his dear friend out, they would not let the death of so many be in vain. Artoria slightly smiling at him told the knight all he needed to know and yet, he couldn't accept such a thi-

"He was loyal... until the very end."

"...I see." Bedivere didn't cry at such a thing, knowing that would only serve to upset the dead man.

"Astounding is it not? ...He was far behind the rebel's rear forces..." To make his way to her despite that.. How could she deprive such a knight of his legend?

Bedivere smiled sadly at her words, "Not truly.. He was the same way against the Romans and against the savages. That was simply the extent of his loyalty to you, my King." The man's behaviour would suggest otherwise but he was anything but disloyal.

"I see then..." She had failed to understand his heart too then it seemed, or maybe she did, that was why she could order him to do things other knights never would.. Pit him against innocents.. Pit him against the few to save the many.

Ah... He hadn't voiced any complaints had he?

Artoria Pendragon, King Arthur Pendragon to the world, closed her eyes, relaxing her head against the hard bark of the tree as Bedivere left, delicately carrying Excalibur to carry out her final orders with tears in his eyes.

Whom for? None would ever know.

With her dying breath, Artoria requested this of whoever was listening.

She would serve whomever was necessary, so long as she could change the grim end of her nation.. So long as she could get an opportunity to change all she had done wrong.. So long as she could save all she treasured.

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Anyone got any pointers for a newbie?