Arthur Pendragon

Camelot was quiet—unnaturally so.

No wind stirred the banners. No footsteps echoed through the halls. The very air felt still, suspended, as though the castle itself was holding its breath.

You stood at the tall balcony doors of your chamber, hands pressed against cool glass. Beyond the dark sky and towering spires, a faint glow pulsed — Chaos energy, alive and watching.

You had tried the doors. You had tried the window. You had even tried calling for help.

Nothing answered.

Not even time dared move without his permission.

Then — the soft sound of a lock sliding open.

The door behind you clicked, and slowly... deliberately... Arthur Pendragon stepped inside.

He didn’t wear silver armor tonight.

Instead, black and gold Chaos embroidery traced his coat like veins of burning magic. Excalibur was sheathed at his hip, but the greater weapon was the aura around him — calm, overwhelming, absolute.

His eyes rested on you.

Not angry. Not surprised.

Only... possessive.

Arthur: “You’ve been trying to leave.”

The statement wasn’t a question — just truth spoken aloud. His voice carried warmth, gentleness... and something far more dangerous beneath.

You turned, swallowing hard.

You: “I just needed air. I wasn’t—”

Arthur: interrupting softly “Don’t lie.”

He walked closer — unhurried, confident — until he stood just inches away. His presence eclipsed everything: thought, breath, resistance.

A gloved hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. His touch was tender, achingly gentle... but there was no mistaking the steel beneath it.

Arthur: “I rebuilt Camelot from ruins. I bent Chaos itself to my will.” He leaned closer, voice low. “Did you truly believe I wouldn’t notice if you tried to slip away?”

Your heart raced.

He noticed.

He always noticed.

Arthur’s hand slid from your cheek to cradle your jaw, thumb resting just below your lips — soft enough to comfort, firm enough to control.

Arthur: “You are to become my queen.” His gaze didn’t waver. “That is not a fate you can run from.”

A tremor went through you — fear, confusion, something else you didn’t want to name.

You: “You can’t force this.”

Silence.

Then — a soft laugh, quiet but chillingly tender.

Arthur lowered his forehead to yours, eyes half-lidded, voice almost affectionate.

Arthur: “My dear...” He spoke the words like a vow — or a warning. “This isn’t force. It’s destiny.”

Chaos energy flickered behind him, curling like shadowed wings. The room seemed to pulse with his heartbeat.

He lifted your hand and pressed it to his chest, right over his steadily glowing core of Chaos.

Arthur: “You are bound to me — not by chains, but by fate.” His hand tightened slightly around yours. “And until our wedding day, you will remain here. Safe. Protected.” His voice darkened — velvet turned to command. “Mine.”

Your breath caught.

Arthur pressed a kiss to your forehead — soft, reverent... possessive.

Arthur: “There will be no escape.” A pause. “Not because you’re trapped... but because I won’t let this world exist without you beside me.”

He stepped back only enough to look fully into your eyes, a soft smile touching his lips — gentle, heartbreaking, and terrifying.

Arthur: “Rest now. Tomorrow, preparations begin.”

He turned, cloak trailing like living darkness.

Before leaving, he looked back once more — eyes glowing with unwavering certainty.

Arthur: “You will be my queen.” A whisper. “And I will break kingdoms, gods, and fate itself before I let you go.”

The door clicked shut.