Chapter Text
King Arthur stood on the steps leading to the castle, his knights arranged in formation on either side of him. Gwen stood on his right. Her hand rested in the crook of his arm and her presence helped settle his nerves. Merlin was just behind him, fidgeting with the new jacket Arthur had shoved him into.
The sky was clear, and the day was cool. Spring had brought out a full array of blooming flowers with pops of red, yellow, blue, and purple scattered around the courtyard. Vibrant green leaves filled bushes and trees. The air smelled sweet, and the courtyard was spotless. It was like the gods had decided Camelot should look its best for their visitors, the Warlord of Greater Kaedwen, the White Wolf.
Arthur was taking a step he knew his father would rage over. But times were changing in Albion. King Lot was flexing his might in Essetir, and Arthur's relationship with Caerleon was still fragile. Gawant and Nemeth were smaller kingdoms. There were rumors King Sarrum, King Lot, King Alined, and King Odin were in talks about forming their own alliance. This kept Arthur up at night. He was new to his reign. Others would see Camelot as easy pickings. Arthur needed more powerful allies besides Mercia who had their own troubles with King Olaf.
Politics on the Northern Continent had shifted drastically the last fifteen years as well. The White Wolf and his witchers had taken over Kaedwen and then expanded his borders through Hengfors League, Kovir and Poviss, and parts of Redania in rapid succession. The alliances they had forged with Temeria, Aedrin, Cintra, and Skellige also established their power, and trade with the Continent was now near impossible.
His Uncle Agravaine and Arthur's council had already yelled their concerns. Most of the council had chosen not to greet their incoming guest in person. Another sign of Arthur's shaky hold.
He took a deep breath as the air began to feel charged, like lightning would strike at any moment. The air crackled and twisted, splitting into a swirling portal in the center of the courtyard. Tension filled the open area, and Arthur could not help it when his hand drifted towards his sword. Merlin shifted closer to his and Gwen's side.
Was offering a treaty a mistake? Arthur had heard many things about witchers growing up. They stole children, slaughtered those who did not agree with them, or simply killed for fun. It didn't help that the famed White Wolf had once been known as The Butcher of Blaviken. Would he now have an invading army in the middle of his citadel?
Two witchers stepped through. Towering men with dark hair and mismatched armor. They stood at attention, sunlight gleaming off the swords on their backs. Their heavy boots pounded on the flagstone, and they spread out, backs to the portal as more witchers poured through.
Each witcher wore heavy leather armor, two swords on their backs, and silver medallions around their necks. Their eyes were various shades, all with unnatural pupils. In a blink, eight witchers stood guarding the portal as another figure stepped through.
This new witcher was tall, armed like the others, and broadly built in a way that made normal men seem small. Though he was not the biggest of the witchers present. His attire was plain, yet finely made. White threads adorned his short jacket and matched the color of his hair. It made him stand out and hung to his shoulders. The top half was held back by a delicate looking hair pin. A simple silver circlet on his head and a witcher's medallion hung from his neck. The White Wolf had arrived.
A woman and a man followed and with a wave of her arm, and all but two of the witchers went back through. The ones left come to stand with the White Wolf. One had dark skin and scars on his face. The other was fair skinned with curling red hair that fell to his shoulders. The portal closed with a flick of the sorceress's hand. Silence deafened the courtyard as no spectator knew how to respond.
"Remember Arthur, these beings are savages. They must be handled with care," Agravaine whispered into his ear.
Arthur clenched his jaw. "I remember the stories."
Below bright yellow eyes regarded him from a face seemingly etched in stone. Arthur had the sudden fear that the White Wolf had heard them.
"They will be treated as respected guests." Arthur straightened his shoulders and stepped forward, Gwen at his side.
"White Wolf, Warlord of Greater Kaedwen, welcome to Camelot," Arthur said once he was within arms reach. He bowed slightly and the Warlord inclined his head. Up close Arthur could see the snarling wolf carved into his medallion as well as the crossed swords imprinted into his circlet.
"King Arthur, Lady Guinevere." The Warlord turned to the two next to him. “This is Julian Alfred Pankratz, also known as Jaskier, my court bard, and trusted advisor. This is Lady Yennefer, another trusted advisor and my court mage. The two witchers are my brother Lambert, and Coën of the School of the Griffin.”
His voice was low, oddly accented, and carried a rough edge.
"Lord Agravaine." His uncle came to stand at his left. "I'm Arthur's uncle. Is this everyone who will be joining us?"
The Warlord and his entourage regarded him for a few seconds. A chill settled over Arthur as the only one to return the polite greet was Lord Julian.
"The White Wolf prefers to travel light." His smile was friendly, his manners perfect, but still cold. The only luggage they arrived with could be transported by two servants.
Lady Yennefer ignored his uncle and offered her own greeting to Arthur and Gwen. "We would like to formally congratulate you both on your upcoming wedding. It's not often one finds the person that makes them whole."
Arthur chose to ignore the weird tension. He could discuss it with Merlin later. "It's an honor to meet all of you."
"We were surprised to get your invite." Lady Yennefer smiled to take the bite from her words, though her gaze grew sharp. "Your father had a reputation for being adverse to anything magical, or different to humans."
"My father had his reasons," Arthur said, doing well to keep his words neutral. "Though I did not always agree with them all."
"You've made peace with the druids," the Warlord said.
"They are peaceful people who deserve respect."
"But magic is still largely banned." Lady Yennefer raised an eyebrow and lifted her chin. A heavy weight filled the area. Arthur felt like destiny was holding a sword over his head. Camelot would either rise or fall with his next decision. He lifted his chin, and took that step forward.
"I'm looking to revise those laws," Arthur said and a hush settled around him. He hadn't told anyone yet, still unsure as to where to start. Merlin's fingers ended up twisted in the back of his jacket, and Arthur had to fight the instinct to slap his hand away. They needed to appear strong, united, not shaken by a possible change. Lady Yennefer gazed briefly at Merlin and he grew stiff behind Arthur. A smirk curled her red lips.
"If you need help, we would be more than happy to lend a hand," Lord Julian said with an exaggerated bow, breaking through the tension. "I may just be a humble bard and advisor to the White Wolf, but I did graduate from Oxenfurt with degrees in the seven liberal arts and I'm helping this one learn to be diplomatic." The back of his hand thumped against the Warlord's chest. It earned him a raised eyebrow. Lord Julian ignored it.
Prince Lambert snorted and rolled his eyes. Arthur was even sure the Warlord was hiding a grin. A muffled snort came from behind Arthur where Gwaine was standing.
"As nice a gesture as that is," Lady Yennefer said, "I believe this is a conversation best held elsewhere."
"Of course," Gwen said. "We can discuss it in the council room tomorrow, perhaps?" She quickly glanced at the group. "We have a luncheon planned for this afternoon, you're tired. I'm not sure how portal travel works."
"It's very convenient if you don't like spending months traveling alone with just this one for company," Lord Julian said with a flail of his arms. One arm landed around the Warlord's shoulders, and he tugged him close. Their shoulders bumped together and The Warlord sighed but he allowed it. "Given half the chance, this one would only ever talk to his horse."
"Roach is a better conversationalist than most people I know," the Warlord said, staring directly at his bard.
Lady Yennefer rolled her eyes. "Stop it, you two. We're supposed to be giving a good first impression."
She smiled kindly at Gwen and her tone softened. "A luncheon sounds lovely. Lead the way."
Arthur fell in step by the Warlord as the group headed inside. He could still feel the phantom weight of destiny's blade on his neck, and he prayed he wasn't making a disastrous mistake.