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The morning Arthur woke to an empty bed, he bolted upright, and then immediately relaxed upon seeing Guinevere standing behind his desk, peering pensively out the window. Arthur flopped back into his bed with relief. He was still adjusting to the routine of a husband and wife – and Guinevere was an early riser. Probably retained that sense of time from her days as a servant.
His wife turned as he rolled over to face her properly, offering him a gentle smile. “Good morning, your majesty.”
Arthur, watching his wife cast in golden sunlight, glowing with holy light and the beauty of a goddess before him. The light set her aglow like no other, creating a halo of fire above her hair, and Arthur was helpless before her. He cleared his throat and replied, “Good morning, your highness.” His voice came out more throaty than he intended and covered up his wince by pretending to re-arrange his pillow.
Guinevere strode over to him and stopped outside of arms-length. In shadow she was no less beautiful, wearing the deep royal blue gown she wore more often than not. The bodice and sleeves were cream, and she wore no jewelry other than the woven gold circlet over her brow.
“Any plans for today, my king?” asked Guinevere.
“Spending the day in bed with my wife,” Arthur answered promptly. “And sleeping until I can’t stay in bed anymore.”
“A shame,” Guinevere replied. “I was hoping to spend some time with my husband today. Maybe walk around the market. Go riding, or have lunch in a nice woodland clearing…”
Arthur hopped out of bed. “Riding, you said?” Guinevere, who knew all too well how to play Arthur’s strings like a talented lute player, merely smiled indulgently. She accepted the warm kiss Arthur pressed to her cheek, for he was all too sure his morning breath was quite atrocious, and had no desire to force such a smell onto his dear Guinevere. And he wanted breakfast first.
Which reminded him. “Where is that lazy excuse of a servant?” Arthur asked the room at large.
“He already delivered breakfast for you,” Guinevere chided, before Arthur could pull on a shirt and trousers to chase Merlin down himself. “Come, sit. It’s a bit cold, because you slept in…”
“A king does not sleep in,” Arthur sniffed. “He wakes perfectly on time.”
Guinevere smiled disarmingly and amused, and nodded. “Right. My mistake.” Arthur left her to enjoy her obvious humor at his reply in favor of digging into the plate of fresh bread and bacon Merlin left for him. There was an apple as well, but it had a bite taken out of it, either because Merlin got hungry on the way delivering Arthur’s food, or…
He glanced back at his wife, who was smiling as innocently as she could. “I got a bit hungry,” she answered, though he had not asked. But he shrugged it off, and his wife graciously allowed him to eat the rest of the apple, even though she had taken two rather large bites from it.
Apparently, his wife’s appetite was not finished, for when she visited the training field she stole yet another apple. Though this time from Sir Elyan, who glowered at his sister as she took a large bite out of the side. Then waved to her brother, who watched with envy. Sir Gwaine elbowed him as he chewed through his own apple, making a loud and obnoxious CRUNCH! in a way that only Gwaine could.
“Hungry?” Elyan asked his sister. “There are other apples. Besides mine.”
Guinevere hummed. “No, but this apple is more delicious than the others.”
“Only the best for the queen,” Sir Leon agreed sagely. “It’s alright, Sir Elyan. You can have mine.” Though his eyes sparkled with mischief. As he passed the apple he tossed it over Elyan’s head, into Guinevere’s hands, who let out a delighted peal of laughter.
Elyan pouted from where he sat, though he did not rise or open his mouth to protest the unjust teasing.
As Arthur discovered much too late, he had better to fear Elyan’s non-reaction, for Guinevere’s brother was simply biding his time.
Hence his great confusion as he woke the next morning to Guinevere’s surprised shriek. He leaped from the bed, fumbling for a moment to remember where he left his sword, and then burst into his wife’s chambers through the connecting door.
There, he stopped. Guinevere appeared unharmed, and he dropped his guard. And lowered the sword. Guinevere was surrounded by a field of fallen apples, with the dresser door open before her. She turned to see Arthur, frowning. She crossed her arms over her chest as she entered what Arthur could only hedge to guess was a fierce sulk.
“Apples?” Arthur asked.
“Apples,” Guinevere agreed, pouting. “Apples! I can’t believe him. He better not have ruined my dresses.”
Arthur blinked dumbly at her. “Who?”
“Elyan,” Guinevere snapped. “Oh, he doesn’t know what he’s done now. This is an act of war.”
“...What,” said Arthur.
Guinevere pushed apples out of her way as she strode from her chambers. “War,” she repeated. Arthur’s apprehension grew. Guinevere rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Arthur. Unlike you and Morgana, this is perfectly normal sibling behavior.”
Arthur, whose only siblings – being Morgana, unless Uther had sired any other evil half-siblings Arthur didn’t know about, which was also entirely plausible – had attempted uncivilized assassination on his person, could only nod mutely. Uncomprehendingly. But then he realized that in no way answered his question. “What,” he repeated, stressing the word.
But his wife had already left the chambers, leaving a half-dressed Arthur in the middle of a room full of apples, still holding his sword, and entirely out of his depth. Merlin poked his head in the next moment and wrinkled his nose at the mess.
“Craving something sweet, your majesty?” Merlin asked, wide-eyed and innocent. And far too amused for Arthur’s liking. “Shall I ask the kitchens to send up more breakfast…apple pie, perhaps?”
Arthur glowered at his snarky excuse for a manservant and kicked an apple at him. And then stormed past Merlin back through the door to his chambers, calling back behind him, “Not a word! And go clean up that mess, Merlin!”
Merlin continued snickering to himself throughout the day. Arthur nearly wept as he walked into the armory for training and found the wall of swords, where Elyan’s sword hung from the rack, with over a dozen apples pierced through from top to bottom.
“Ah,” said Sir Elyan, when he paused to see what Arthur was looking at. “Well. I suppose I should’ve expected that. Shame to waste perfectly good apples.” As if he hadn’t filled Guinevere’s dresser with dozens of apples, leaving them bruised and left to be fed to the pigs in the towns.
“This can’t continue,” he ordered Elyan, who was turning the sword over consideringly.
“Oh, of course not, sire.” Elyan agreed, though not convincingly enough for Arthur to believe he meant it.
Arthur sighed the next day as he woke to find his wife once again cursing and the sound of many apple-sized objects falling to the floor with dull thuds. Arthur was half impressed by Elyan’s abilities to maintain stealth. Guinevere was less impressed, and provoked to up the ante of their little challenge by shifting her focus from apples to entire apple trees, which she had brought in and planted in the middle of Elyan’s rooms.
“Seriously?” Elyan demanded. “I’ve got dirt all in my sheets?”
“How unfortunate,” Guinevere replied dryly, without a flicker of guilt. Arthur dropped his head and groaned in defeat, as Sir Elyan burst into the council rooms the next day to demand the queen remove the small orchard collecting in his chambers.
“How did you even get them in here!?” he cried.
“A queen has many loyal servants,” Guinevere replied, exchanging an unsubtle glance at Merlin, that traitor, who was still all too amused by these antics. The rest of the eyes of the council flickered to Arthur, awaiting him to reprimand his queen and knight for disturbing important court business with their petty rivalry, but Arthur waved them off.
In truth, Arthur had absolutely no course of action. What was a king to do when his queen and one of his most trusted knights were engaged in some bizarre challenge of siblings? It was a political conundrum, the likes of which he had no history to reference, and all attempts to dissuade them through orders, begging, and bribery had failed.
“This can’t go on for much longer,” Arthur complained, as he walked into his chambers and found a dozen apples in his bed. The mattress had been split open, filled with apples, and then sewn closed. They were on Guinevere’ side, but Arthur wasn’t about to let his wife sleep on a bed of apples.
Behind him, Merlin let out a choked bark of laughter. “You don’t think?” Merlin teased. “I’ve heard siblings can fight for a good time. Years, even.”
Arthur snapped, “What would you know, Merlin? You haven’t got any.” Merlin shrugged, unoffended, and continued sweeping.
At least it wasn’t as mucked up as his relationship with Morgana, Arthur thought. Small mercies. He didn’t think Camelot could handle yet another cocked up sibling rivalry for the crown. Though he would definitely be keeping an eye on Sir Elyan in the future, should he decide to change his tactics from apples to homicide…
Merlin rolled his eyes as Arthur thought aloud. “Not all siblings rely on murder to get over their problems. That’s just a you and Morgana problem.”
“Shut up, Merlin!”
Merlin’s lips pursed. “The only way to defeat them is to beat them at their own game. Sire.” Hm.
“Beat them at what, exactly?” Arthur demanded.
Merlin waved his arm as though relating a vague gesture, though not one Arthur understood. “You know. If you can’t beat them, join them. The only way to stop this is if you challenge them on the same field.” He grinned, a little wild. “Of course, if you are looking for ideas, or inspiration, all you have to do is ask.”
“...I’m listening.” Arthur allowed.
So Arthur was quite pleased with his handiwork. The apple shenanigans halted when Arthur filled Elyan’s rooms with barrels of apples, and his wife’s chambers with apples hung from every piece of furniture and curtain, and for several days there was peace. No more council interruptions.
The plan, however, quickly backfired as Guinevere and Elyan shared one more thing in common, despite their sibling rivalry that manifested through pranks and teasing: that they did not like being challenged.
Vindication was short lived, as Arthur woke to find his boots stuffed with apples, and slices of apples with thin branches poked through the fruit flesh to create something not that dissimilar from a crown. The message was clear: a new war had begun, for Elyan and Guinevere had formed a brand new alliance. They took their combined efforts and united against a new common enemy: Arthur.
Damn it all, Arthur thought, as he glared up at the ceiling. He knew he never should’ve listened to Merlin.