Accolon travels to Avalon

As lady Morgana’s guard, Accolon was among the first to find out that she’d fled into the night. He had been none the wiser of her decision to leave, which saddened him, though he reckoned it was for the best.

The thought that she couldn’t trust him to help her, to keep her secret, panged him a bit, though it was perfectly understandable and he wouldn’t fault her for it. How could she know for sure that he’d put her over his knightly duties? But he’d do it for her, over and over again.

Perhaps it had been mere pragmatism: the less people know, the smaller chance to be caught. It was also a kindness on her part, for not knowing meant fewer troubles for him. When they came to question him he needn’t feign innocence and he was let off with only a stern reprimand.

He wasn’t told – none were – the reason of her abrupt nighttime departure, so rumors spread like wildfire. Gossip had it that she ran away with a bastard child; that she’d fought with the King and brought insult to him in his own castle. Accolon didn’t know what had caused Morgana to flee, only that she looked shaken and enraged as she went to her chamber that evening, and refused to speak to anyone.

Weeks later, word came that she’d settled in Avalon, at her old family home, and Accolon knew he had to follow. It didn’t take much to persuade Duke Lot to let him go after her, under the guise of coaxing her back. The Duke stared as if through him, and gave his approval.

Accolon had no hope of bringing her back willingly and no intention to force her. He only wanted to check on her, see how she fared, and if she needed a friend. Sera stayed behind to attend to their knightly duties in Lothia, so Accolon set out on his own, on a long and arduous carriage journey. Finally, he came to Azur, Tintal’s capital.

He’d visited before, as a young squire accompanying his knight mentor at a tournament. At the time, he was not yet aware of the terrible things the new Duke had done to get his title, and Morgana was still living in Avalon with people who actually cared about her.

Accolon had declined to spend the night at the castle, saying he didn’t wish to impose on the Duke and his family. In truth, he didn’t want to play gracious guest with the person who had a hand in ruining the Le Fay and bringing Morgana such pain. So he spent the night at an inn and boarded a ship to Avalon the next morning.

Accolon stood at the prow as the ship speared through the ring of fog, and was awed by what he saw. The island was beautiful – like Morgana had so fondly described it, and so vividly painted it – golden beaches and green hills, terracotta roofs and pillared buildings. He wondered if Morgana would be willing to show him around – she once said she would, if they ever visited together. It was a nice thought to hold on to.

He set off into the bustling port and was promptly hailed by an unfamiliar voice.

“Sir Accolon!”

Waving at him was a young woman with a head of ginger curls, and a face full of freckles. He’d seen her before in Morgana’s sketchbook.

He bowed his head at her. “Miss Junia.”

She fiddled with the twine cord that cinched her long yellow tunic. “Junia suffices.”

“Then you may call me just Accolon as well.”

She briskly nodded and folded her hands behind her back, to keep from fussing. “Is that all your luggage?” He’d brought only a satchel and a trunk. “Morgana’s house is up on the hill, so if you’re tired we can arrange for a horse or a mule.”

“I’m fine walking if there’s no trouble. I’d like to stretch my legs after the journey.”

She gave a quick awkward smile and led the way. They passed a clowder of cats scarfing down the bucketful of fish a sailor tossed them, and roaming seagulls, eyes always sharp for their next meal. They skirted by a marketplace, the briny air laden with the scent of seafood and spices.

They made small-talk: she asked about his journey, he inquired after her well-being , her fathers’ and Morgana’s.

“How is she faring?”

“As best as anyone with a newborn can be.” She smiled gently. “At least this time she has my fathers and me at her side.”

It hurt Accolon to think of Morgana back in Lothia, pressured to be pregnant and surrounded only by strangers.

The conversation lulled as the road got steeper and the houses grew farther apart. Junia kept fidgeting with her hair, winding and unwinding a ringlet around her finger, lip bitten in thought. Finally, she halted and he stopped too, waiting patiently for her to speak.

“Why did you come, Accolon?” Her tone was neither accusatory, nor demanding, but deeply concerned. “If you came to force her back -”

He shook his head. “Never. I came to check on her as a friend. She left so suddenly and I - ” he caught himself before his voice broke “- was worried for her.”

Junia studied his face as she let the words sink in. She must have judged him to be earnest for she smiled. “Good. I hope you keep to your word. She considers you a friend too, you know?”

It was not long before they arrived. Wailing cleaved the air, growing louder as they walked to the garden and into a house unlike anything Accolon had seen on the Continent. It was high-pitched and incessant, the crying of a little babe. Junia led him to a mosaic-tiled bedchamber and there was Morgana humming and rocking a cradle. He couldn’t help but beam at the sight of her.

When she noticed them, she got up and approached. “Accolon.” The corner of her mouth tugged up. “It’s been a while.”

Too long, he thought.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her shoulders slightly slumped with fatigue but her gaze was as keen as ever.

“Are you well?” Accolon asked. “How is Mordred?”

Morgana scoffed. “Far better than at court with those wretched traitors. As you can hear, Mordred is getting in their daily dose of screaming.” She cast a fond glance over her shoulder at them. “I gave them a soothing potion, they should calm down soon.”

Accolon approached the cradle and peered down at the wailing bundle inside. “Can I?” he asked Morgana. When she nodded, he gently picked them up and held them close to his chest. Their crying stopped for one confused moment before resuming again. He swayed from side to side, marveling at how small and cute they were. It’s alright little one, you’re safe and well, and you’ve got so many people looking after you. I’m here too, if your mother will have me.

When they were finally asleep, he placed them back into their cradle and turned to Morgana. Junia had slipped out some time ago, and the two of them were alone now. Morgana beckoned, and they stepped into the hall, gently shutting the door behind them.

She took his hand in both of hers and smiled. “Thank you.” She tilted her head and scoured his face. “Now, are you here to drag me back?” Her tone was flippant, but there was a tightness to the curve of her lips.

“Of course not,” he said, “I came here as your friend, not a knight. I came for your and Mordred’s sake, to check on you.”

“Well you checked on us.” she said teasingly. “You’re free to leave now.”

“If that’s what you desire, I will leave. But if not, I’ll stay by tour side for as long as you need me. As long as you want me.”

Morgana’s smile softened, her thumb stroking the back of his palm. “Come,” she gently said, ”let me show you to your room.”

Days turned into weeks, lingering touches into caresses, longing gazes into kisses. Accolon would have stayed by Morgana’s side for as long as she wanted him there, forsake his knightly duties and remain forevermore in Avalon. He had no interest to keep serving a man like Duke Lot. But Morgana needed him in Lothia. After all, Mordred would need a mentor when they became a squire.

So they parted ways with difficulty and his promise of a hasty return.