uy all--thought I'd share this little fic I wrote. It was inspired sa pamamagitan ng the knife-throwing scene in 4x03. I have a segundo part to this if you're interested.

This is post-marriage. Just a small window into a very special araw in the life of the Pendragons.

Hope you enjoy!!

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Camelot's Greatest Strength

"Guin-e-vere, how much longer are you going to be?" Though muffled through the thick wooden door, the King's mood was evident, as always, in the way he sinabi her name. "We were to have begun training nearly an oras ago."

"I'm almost done. Just wait for us in the courtyard." Gwen called out to her one and only, hoping to assuage his impatience.

But, to no avail.

"What are you doing in there anyway?" Arthur Pendragon inquired.

"Making sure the boys are properly dressed."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Gwen cringed. For this particular king on this particular issue, the less he knew the better. At least until her hastily made plans were revealed. In public. Where her husband's famous temper might be...tempered.

There was a prolonged silence in which Gwen wondered if perhaps she'd ibingiay enough information to soothe Arthur's ruffled feathers or if she'd only fanned the flames of his curiosity.

Then suddenly, the door to the princes' bedchamber swung opened and heavy footsteps approached.

What was that they sinabi about curiosity being a killer of cute purring things? Well, today, it seemed that Arthur was the curious and she was to be the proverbial cat.

"What do you mean properly…" Arthur pushed back the curtain to the twins' dressing area and pulled up short at the sight that greeted him. His tone registered the shock on his face. A shock that was not Nawawala on his seemingly focused, back-turned-to-him, queen. "Guinevere Pendragon, have you Nawawala your mind?"

"What? I’m just trying to make sure they don’t
get hurt."

"Hurt? They can barely ilipat under all that padding." A quick visual inspection prompted further alarm. "Can they even breathe?"

With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, Guinevere stood and circled her five taon old sons, inspecting her handiwork. "Of course they can breathe, Arthur. Don’t be ridiculous." Even as she spoke, her teeth worried her lower lip and her brows knit in concern.

Perhaps she had overdone it a bit.

Layers upon layers of padding and clothes covered the twins from head to toe, causing their arms to jut out from their bodies like two blades of a windmill. Nary an inch of skin was visible to the naked eye. Except, of course their adorable Arthur-inspired faces. Correction, half of their adorable Arthur-inspired faces. Two pairs of innocent eyes blinked up at their parents from above the makeshift masks covering their noses and mouths.

Gwen attempted to smoothly, subtly address Arthur's immediate concern. Her attempt was neither smooth or subtle. Gently tugging on the material produced no results. She tugged harder and only managed to rock her eldest back on his heels. Quickly righting him, she gave it one last try.

Colin Pendragon landed headfirst in her lap.

An irritated, "Mmm-mmm!" and muffled giggles from her youngest-by-five-minutes son sent a flush of frustration and embarrassment over Gwen's oliba skin, including her delicately exposed neck.

Whatever shock or anger Arthur might have been feeling at his wife's latest antics withered in the face of such a comical, and arousing, sight.

"Me? Ridiculous?" Arthur chuckled teasingly as he approached the boys, reached around Gwen and made quick work of the material muzzling his sons. Presence engulfing her, his breath was warm against her skin as his lips tickled her ear. "No, luv, I believe you have the handle on that one today."

Normally, the shivers she experienced at his closeness were a welcome sensation. But not today. Not now. Huffing herself to her feet, Gwen turned to face him with hands on her hips, tight lips and a miffed expression that went beyond.

Meeting her irritated gaze, Arthur sighed in resignation, reached out to her and waited until she slowly, reluctantly deposited her hand in his before he drew her away from the children for a madami private conversation. Understanding his wife's unspoken fears, Arthur's expression softened. "Gwen, listen. We’ve gone over this. It is past time to begin their training."

"I still think they are far too young." Arms crossed in front of her, Gwen was defiant.

"For any other child that might be true, but they are the princes of Camelot and have much to learn. And as the king, even madami so as their father, it my duty to prepare them for their roles as future leaders of Camelot. Besides, we’ve already delayed a year." Arthur gently reminded before launching into a well-used argument. "You know, sa pamamagitan ng the time I was their age, I was beginning to master my footwork and the sword was already becoming..."

"... an extension of yourself. I know, Arthur." Gwen finished for him with a frustrated sigh that turned into a wounded frown. "That is precisely what worries me."

"The swords are small and wooden."

"The swords are pointy." Gwen countered obstinately.

"They are blunted, smoothed and innocuous per your request." Placing large, warm hands on her shoulders, Arthur jostled her gently as if trying to shake the concern from her eyes. "Guinevere, I know what I’m doing." Arthur soothed. "I'd rather die than let any harm come to them. But you know that." There was a pause in which Arthur asked the ultimate. "Trust me?"

It was the last two words that did it. And the way his fingers gently grazed the tip of her chin as he tilted her face, and with it her gaze, upward just in time to witness the plea in his cerulean blue eyes. The warmth, the sincerity, the confidence waiting for her there was something Guinevere Pendragon had never been able to resist.

She visibly melted under his patient, loving gaze. Arthur rewarded her with a heart-stopping smile.

"You know, you could come and watch." A proud and matagumpay Arthur offered, half hopeful.

The suggestion prompted a violent shake of Gwen's noble head. "Nooo, I don't think so. I couldn’t madala it." Arthur's amused smile garnered an irritated pout. "What? I nearly had a puso attack watching you have knives thrown at your foolish head." When Arthur's expression crumbled into confusion, Gwen readily reminded him. "Your birthday celebration. Nearly seven years ago."

"Oohhhh, riiiight." Arthur nodded in remembrance, then turned his attention back to the task at hand. Namely, extricating his sons from the hands of their adorably clingy mother. "Well, then...go tend a garden or embroidery something or...do whatever it is a beautiful reyna tends to do on the araw her sons pick up their first swords."

"But…"

"Guinevere, that’s not a request. It's an order."

"But…"

"One that if disobeyed will result in an afternoon in the stocks." At her audible gasp, Arthur's index finger made an appearance, it's taunting wag as obstinate as the look in Arthur's eyes. "Don’t think I won’t do it."

The threat was an empty one. But it still did the trick. Guinevere's defeated sigh, her slumped shoulders, was enough to tell him he'd won the battle.

Finally.

For the day.

A pleading gaze met his. "At least let me say good-bye."

"Good-bye?" In that moment, Arthur knew he'd never seen anything madami beautiful than his wife loving his children. He bit back a smile. "You’ll see them again in an hour."

But the reassurance was Nawawala on Gwen as she rushed to and knelt before her pride and joy, hugging them both to her. "Oh, my darling poppets. You're growing up so fast. This is such a big araw for you both and Mummy is so very, very proud." She pulled back to look into their miniature faces and sighed at her good fortune.

They were the spitting image of their father. Sweet, endearing faces. Big, expressive eyes. Perfect bone structure, envious long lashes and lips that would one araw make the girls swoon. Her only obvious contribution was her dark, wavy hair to her eldest, her deep brown eyes to her youngest and their mocha-hued skin tones.

Fiddling with their tunics, Gwen forced her voice to be light and unconcerned. "Now, I want you to listen to everything your stubborn father says and be careful. I don't want you poking each other's eyes out, understand? And, if at all possible, always choose safety over pride." She paused and corrected herself knowing no such creature existed in the Pendragon dynasty. "Oh, what am I saying? You are your father's sons in every respect..." She sniffed back the waver in her voice. "Oh, boys..." Another crushing hug and a rain of kisses on each precious face ended with her heartfelt and oft repeated confession. "...I pag-ibig you both...so much."

"Wuv you too, mummy." The twins chimed in perfect little-boy unison.

Blinking back tears that suddenly stung the back of her eyes, Guinevere stood, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, turned her back to her sons and fixed her eyes on the door. The first step was the most difficult. Each one after broke her puso just a little bit. As she passed her husband, he stopped her with a hand on her arm and a provocative question.

"What? Don’t I get a halik too?"

Chin raised in defiance and apoy flashing in her dark eyes, Guinevere spun on him. "On one condition, Arthur Pendragon -- bring my boys tahanan to me." A fine eyebrow arched in emphasis. "Unscathed."

"Well, that will be rather difficult seeing they aren’t even leaving the kastilyo grounds." Arthur quipped only to see the wife he adored morph into the fierce reyna his enemies reluctantly admired, which was a far cry from and yet not so unlike the servant who captured his heart. "Duly noted..." Arthur cleared his throat and nodded his head in deference to her. "...my Queen."

Satisfied with her King's response, Gwen held her noble head high and exited the room with all the dignity a mother leaving her sons to fate could muster.

Arthur shook his head and chuckled at her retreating form then turned to face his sons with a clap of his hands. "Alright, boys. Let's see how quickly we can undo mummy's damage..."

In a matter of minutes, the twins were unwrapped and unencumbered. And happy to be so. As Arthur then turned his attention to reassembling the proper attire for the first of many training days, a new conversation began.

"Daddy?" Arthur's exact miniature tilted his head quizzically.

"Yes, Colin."

"Is mummy in trouble?"

"What? No, of course not."

Colin's twin joined the inquisition. "How's come she's upset?"

"That, my bravo Coulby, is a tanong for the ages." Arthur tweaked Coulby's nose and grinned into his wife's eyes. He placed an arm around each and drew them to him. "Know this, boys, I pag-ibig your mother to distraction, but there are times when it comes to the two of you I believe she has gone quite insane."

The roll of his eyes and his comical expression prompted giggles from the young princes.

"So, mummy’s just being silly?" Colin asked.

"Yes. And no." Arthur smiled at the boy's identical looks of confusion. He attempted to explain. "If your mother is being silly right now, it's because she loves you both very, very much. As she always has. As she always will. And a pag-ibig like hers is something to treasure above all treasures."

"How's come above all?"

"That's a good question, Coulby." Arthur sat each son on a knee, his gaze turning thoughtful as he tried to put into words exactly what the three Pendragon men, and sa pamamagitan ng extension all of Camelot, had in their possession. "She is above all because your mother's pag-ibig is Camelot's greatest strength. We, as Camelot's first defenders, are stronger than we ever thought we could be because of her love. It makes us bravo and bold and shields us better than any piece of armor, because it protects our hearts from our own invisible enemies, like doubts and insecurities. Her pag-ibig gives us the courage to trust ourselves and follow our own paths. And in the dark of night when we are most afraid, it is your mother's pag-ibig that comforts and holds us steady and unwavering until we are ready to face our greatest challenges."

"Her pag-ibig gives us madami than just reason to fight...it gives us a reason to win. And it is her pag-ibig that brings us home, battle after battle, war after war. It's a rare find, my boys. Not every prince is fortunate enough to have a mother pag-ibig him the way your mother loves you. And certainly not every king. Without it, we are nothing madami than empty men with powerful weapons. And empty men are always doomed to fail. Don’t ever forget that."

"Do we make her strwong too?" Colin asked, his large blue eyes fixed on his father's face.

"More than you will ever know." Arthur answered cryptically.

"But mummy looked sad." Ever the sensitive one, Coulby's lips formed a pout as his warm dark eyes saddened. "I don't wike it when she's sad."

"Me eiffer."

Arthur looked from Colin to Coulby, his puso swelling with pride and his agile mind already in motion, forming a plan. "How about this then? After we train, we’ll go pick her some bulaklak to ipakita her how much we pag-ibig her. Then we will make hapunan for her and give her a special night. What do you say?"

"She wikes purple flowers." Colin offered.

Coulby perked up. "And white. She wikes white ones too."

"Yes, she does." Arthur grinned as he tousled each boy's hair.

"And pancakes! Daddy, can we make pancakes? Mummy wuuuuuves pancakes."

"I think that's madami your cherished dish than hers, but...well see." A non-committed Arthur winked. "Alright, then. It sounds like we have a plan." Arthur unfolded himself and rose to his full height as he smile proudly down at the heirs of Camelot. "So, what do you say? Are you ready to become the susunod knights of Camelot?"

"Yeah!!"

And with that, the Pendragon men charged into the future with the pag-ibig of a mother leading the way.


tbc...