Albion's Days They Leave Us Wanting

What Maketh Circumstance

What little Mary already cared for London Fashion was made infinitely worse by having to stand still for multiple hours while she was poked and prodded, as people tried to put her in it. It was hideous. It was ugly. It wasn't even practical. Hell, if she had her way, she'd burn every last dress that looked anything like this. All she wanted was a simple gown. Well, simple and it's cutting, not so simple and it's embroidery. The finer things that actually show that you've put work into something. Not this. This wasn't it. It was uncomfortable and she didn't want to be anywhere near it.

“Oh,” The Tailor said swooned over her figure “You have the perfect body for this” No she didn't. She wanted her. She wanted Welsh. They could do whatever they wanted, she couldn't stop them, but this she wasn't gonna bend on this. She would never bend on this. If she couldn't be with her people, she couldn't be in Wales then she would bring Wales to her. She would live here so she was still there. She would live on. They couldn't take that away from her. She would fight tooth and f*****g nail to make damn sure of it.

You don’t keep the Welsh down.

This- this was beyond tiring. Oh, gods, they’re treating me like a mannequin.

Stand in place.

No, don't move.

On and on and on.

“My dresses. Oh, my dresses they are art and you shall be my canvas" No. She didn't want any of it. She pleaded with her handmaiden. Please, please, please. Get me out of here. Obviously, she couldn't say such a thing, she already had but they haven't given it any concern. So instead she played with her eyes.

It didn't work.

Instead, she walked over to her and asked if she needed it and untimely denied the break she desperately wanted. Lovely.

“Do you have any other appointments today?” she said softly trying to butter him up.

“Yes, one of the ladies of the castle she is with child, who needs me to let to be fit or maternity”

“Which lady?”

“Oh, it doesn't matter. I know you don't know her. Please, please stay still” And then he brought out the most disgusting shade of pink she had ever seen. It was nauseating. Bright and sickly in its shading. It looks like something you'd make something out of if you hated someone. Actually, come to think of it, that's probably what he had in mind. She wouldn't put it past him, finding that ugly thing just for someone he couldn't stand, and forcing them to wear it. Jokes on him, she was cutting that thing into the ribbons at the first opportunity.

The dress for the wedding however was the one thing she wouldn’t bend on. She was lucky that he let them meet in the middle. He got royal red, she got green lace. He got one petticoat layering and she got no hump. He got the high collar she got no buttons and a lace-up back. He got gloves she had no intention of wearing and she got angel sleeves. A nice compromise. It wasn't finished yet, but she had a feeling he’ll probably still f**k it up. Jokes on him, Welsh are proud people and in her family, it is tradition that every member is to know not only how to hem their own clothing. She knows to make her family banner as well as the royal mark. Whatever abomination he would give her, she knew she could make right. She could make it Welsh.

Eight hours unending hours passed before she was finally allowed to leave. And she had to show for it, only a set of hideous dresses, that she would rather set fire to that wear. She did, however, find some things a bit more interesting. Like the fact that the castle's tailor didn't keep a lock on his fabric cabinets and that he had a sewing machine, it had a hand crank but a machine nonetheless… one she could carry. Yeah, I can make that work.

Her freedom. It took way too long to achieve, but she finally had it. As gracefully as she could, she bit her tongue, not telling the Taylors exactly what she thought of their creations. Their “art”, if one could call it that. And instead bid them a good day before leaving.

Her handmaiden startled her when she left the tailors. I thought she left. Has she been here the whole time? “Is there anything you wish to do, my lady” The knight from the jousting track, I should see if he’s doing well.

“Actually, yes, where is the castle Infirmary?”

“Oh, are you not feeling well my lady? I can have one of the healers come to your room”

“No, actually there’s someone there, I wish to see, know if he's well”

“I see… Very well my lady” She started off down the winding passages and stairs with Mary at her heels. It was a long walk, Camelot seemed more like a labyrinth. It had no purpose like someone kept building on and on for their own vanity rather than purpose.

Eventually, they were there. It was a long but simple room, slim windows every ten feet, curtains in between each bed for privacy, and hanging chandeliers that bathed the room in clean white light. She didn't recognize any of the knights around her… in fairness, she hadn't even gotten a good look at the one she was looking for.

A young man dressed as a healer was standing near her, cleaning some implements with no rush in his moments.

“Excuse me uh, do you know where- dear me, I don't actually know his name. Yesterday a knight was brought here with a broken thigh bone”

“Oh, Sir Leon. He’s in the third bed from the end, window side. Was awake last time I checked on him”

“Thank you” Her handmaiden sat in a chair by the entrance, leaving her alone to this.

Every single bed was filled, even to the point of creating magical extensions to the hall, filled with more beds and injured. This is concerning. Seeing as a good number of the knights were sleeping she moved as silently as possible grateful for the soft-soled slippers she had been given. Sure enough, he was there, set up on pillows and reading The London Gazette.

“Hello goodnight”

“Oh, dear lady. I was not expecting you”

“I couldn't very well leave you. You did promise me a tour, after all, how am I to not lose my way?”

“Well I am a man of my word” Without skipping a beat he put down the paper and motioned to himself in the bed before continuing “Unfortunately, it appears I am not able to do so at this time”

“Then I am to be lost forever”

“Surely you are”

“How do you fare?” she asked quietly, moving closer to the bed to avoid prying eyes and ears.

“Have had better days, but much better, especially with your help. I didn't realize Welsh women or so versed in medicine”

“I'm not. My mother told me that every lady should know how to heal her own husband. To care for his wounds, since men are stubborn and incapable of doing so themselves”

“She is a wise woman then”

“Was” she corrected, trying not to let a sorrowful look from her face. She was here for him after all.

He sighed as his shoulders fell and the carefree smile he had melted away “My apologies” he whispered.

“It's alright. No way for you to have known” She moved to sit next to him. “Glad to see you doing well. Anything I can do to help you”

“Oh no, the healers have been quite well. Surprisingly well, according to the mystics, the bone was only slightly off when you reset it”

“That’s good. In honesty I've never actually reset a bone… well on a person, horses don't really count”

“Oh, hogwash. If I were to still have my horse I'd rather have her leg reset than to have her put down again”

“Again?”

“Yes…” His voice slowly grew quiet as possible as he slowly leaned forward. Instinctively she did the same “Many believe the tourney's been cursed. My pore Gringolet, she was such a good horse” She placed her hand gingerly on his hand to comfort him as best she could “She just went mad. Couldn't think, won't respond to anyone, wouldn't sleep. Had to say goodbye to her”

“I'm sorry. I used to have a horse of my own. I- I don't know if she's alive, I hope she is. She was such a good mare”

He took her hand in his and squeezed lightly “I'm sure”

She turned her head suddenly hearing someone approach. They were unfortunately met with Arthur.

“Hello, Mary. I must confess I didn't expect to see you here”

“Nor I you. But I must confess I didn't expect to see myself here either. Honestly, couldn't take much more of those tailors, get poking use needles, and treated like a mannequin. I swear, the worst. And no sense of color”

“I could have told you that myself” Leon interjected before leaning back in his bed.

“True enough”

“If you don't mind, there are some matters I wish to discuss with Leon”

“Oh, of course. I'm going to retire to my room. I shall see you both tomorrow” With that they each bid goodnight before she started for the exit.

“So she's your cousin” was the last thing she heard before leaving. She had to snicker at that.

Went back in her chambers Mary dismissed her handmaiden. She had plans, oh boy, did she have plans and she was going to enact them.

She waited a good hour, placing things about, try to make the place feel more at home. This had the dual effect of ensuring that anyone monitoring her would think she settled for the night. As quietly as possible she opened her door and stepped out. Finding nothing and no one she set about making her way slowly back to the tailors' room.

It was difficult and time-consuming getting about without anyone noticing but she managed it. No one was around the room and after several seconds, carefully listening, no one was inside. Slowly she pushed down the handle lock and opened the door enough to peek inside. All of the tailors and assistants were gone.

Happily and quickly, she snuck in, closing the door silently as she could. Once in she grabbed the basket of fabric scraps and flung open the cabinets. She grabbed bungles of dark green, blue, red, cool brown, violet, crushed dark red velvet, and crushed dark green velvet, cutting where needed. A spool of white lace, one black, one dark green. Gold, black, medium green, dark red, and light purple thread. All added to the scrap basket before grabbing a box of needles and one of fabric chalk, then the sewing machine, putting them on top.

Once all gathered she hurried out, careful to ensure that no one had seen her, and made her way back to her room. Maybe it was the fear of being caught or the people milling about, working in the evening so as to not impede the daily goings about. But she made it.

Too focused on the task at hand she nearly dropped the basket when she turned back from shutting the door, only to find a large wooden box was sitting on her table. On the verge of panic, she placed the basket down and moved carefully to look around the room with an unrelenting eye, terrified that someone was there. Watching. Waiting.

A plain piece of folded paper waited for her on top. Eyes still darting around she reached for the paper and unfolded it only to be met with something she did not expect.

I understand this is not your home but hopefully what you find in here will bring you peace.

What a strange letter, a strange sentiment even. Carefully she took the lid off the box.

It was the old gods. Small hand-carved figurines of each of them, including Ddraig Goch, in all his glory. Knowing that there was more underneath she took them out and placed them in the appropriate places. Ddraig Goch over the fireplace. The Wanderer in the window. The Guardian above her bed. The Lover on a shelf near the bath. The Wisp in her wardrobe. The Knight over her door. And finally The Lantern Keeper in the middle of her table. Now done she took out the bundle of fabric to inspect it on;y to find something she never thought she'd see you again. Her family banner from her room, burns and all. Emrys it must have been. Who else could have brought these to me in so little time? But why? He was Welsh himself but he had no real reason to do me this kindness. The next thing in the box was equally surprising. The Welsh flag, with another note on top of that.

Best not hangs out the window.

Fair enough she said to herself. The new problem was what to do with the box? She didn’t know where he living in Camelot and didn’t wish to be caught with it so returning it was out of the question, and she very well couldn’t take it out of her room. Chair! She looked over to her bed and saw the reading chair in the corner next to it. The box was waxed and treated if she put a pillow on it she could likely pass it off as a leg rest. There were a few more bits and bobs; a hand mirror, a wax press of her family seal, a tin of Welsh tea, a small painting of her lands, a red kite tail feather, and a preserved Welsh daffodil. All things that would make it feel more at home. After emptied she turned the box upside down, shacked it a bit to ensure nothing else was left. And walking over, placing it gently on the ground.

Oh, she had a time ahead of her.

She didn’t have a mannequin nor had she ever had one but she knew her sizes and that was enough- Scissors! f**k me, I forgot the scissors. Then she remembered the dagger. She had kept it with her own for all this time, and hidden it carefully under her pillow. She went to get it and found yet another note, this time in the form of a tag on a very, very sharp pair of fabric scissors.

I think you forgot something.

It was indeed Emrys and he was toying with her, she didn't appreciate it much, but the help? It was very much welcomed. So she set about making some clothes that would actually suit her, working long into the night.

Her handmaiden returned after the sun had set, rapping at her door. “My lady? I brought you dinner”

“That's alright, I’m not hungry. Thank you”

“His Majesty insists that I bring you dinner. Worries you haven't eaten much the past weeks”

“I'm fine, I assure you” Nevertheless, the woman pushed open her door sending her into a panic.

“Oh, the dresses are here. Aren’t they grand?” What? She looked about at the scraps of fabric, Her family banner over the fireplace, Welsh flag above her bed, and the Old Gods all about. How did she not see these? “Aren't they lovely, my lady?”

“Oh …yes”

“I understand they might not be what you're used to but you may grow to like them. Would you like me to bring you some tea?”

Thinking for a moment she found her answer “I would love some tea”

“English alright?”

“Yes. Yes, English tea will do quite nicely. Thank you” Sneaky little mystic. He enchanted them, enchanted everything. She didn't see anything. This is surely her safe haven and he had insured it to her. She was going to have to thank him for that should they ever meet. Once that he was back of course.

With her handmaiden off again she, cut her meal into bite-sized pieces and set back to her work.