This is a sequel of sorts to Rosie’s and Tom’s fics about Rhydian and Blodeuwedd, and to all the Knights fic. The date is sometime in the early 21st century.

It was morning, but none of them had slept and instead of bullying Lahav into cooking, Samuel and Gerard just stared dismally at the dying fire. Lahav and Lahav Junior – Gerard’s youngest descendant, seventeen and generally considered worse than his namesake – were trying to pretend they were playing Angry Birds on their phones and not reading political theories about crime and punishment.

After a while Gerard could bear it no longer and looked out of the window, where the apprentices were still digging bones out of Blodeuwedd’s garden, the one Rhydian had first made for her all those years ago. Lahav didn’t like to think what the total number of victims was going to be. Samuel didn’t like to think how many attacks on the Knights’ HQ that number represented. Lahav Junior wondered – out loud – where his Uncle Rhydian was.

“Downstairs,” Gerard muttered. “He won’t leave her. He handcuffed himself to her so we couldn’t part them.”

Lahav grinned. “If being imprisoned means lazing around the Knights’ HQ chained to Rhydian, you are going to get a lot of 17 year old girls – and Carjadzi – committing crimes just for the punishment.”

Gerard groaned and put his head in his hands. “As we explained to the Oxford Union – and many, many times in the Union bar afterwards – the Knights of St George serve a serious purpose in protecting the country and do not exist to provide sexual gratification for anyone who asks. Nor are we the country’s longest-running soap opera and if that blasted Private Eye reporter turns up here again – the gods alone know where he gets his information, but when I find the source, I’ll-“

“It’s Grandma Patience,” Lahav Junior said, idly sharpening his knives. “Every time one of you does something to annoy Granny she goes down to London and visits Private Eye and has tea at Claridge’s with Uncle-Saint Gavin. Though not with Uncle-Saint James, who got thrown out for wearing trainers.”

Silence reigned for a few moments.

“Lahav, how do you know this?” Lahav asked curiously. The boy shrugged. “Aunty Vaz from next door told me.”

“She is not your Aunty Vaz and I’ve told you to stop going round there!” Gerard snapped, more harshly than he meant to – with no effect at all on Lahav Junior, who just kept smiling evilly. “Carjadzi says he’s in with a chance with Uncle Rhydian at last, if it’s true that Aunty Blodeuwedd’s scheduled for execution.”

“Rhydian will kill him if he hears that,” Gerard said matter-of-factly.

*

Rhydian lay on the floor of the Knights’ dungeon, with Blodeuwedd lying across him, stroking his hair. The slim chain fastening her ankle to the wall was really there for show and the principle of the thing – everyone knew she could just rip the body to bits with her hands and reform elsewhere. The choice of guard was largely to give her some incentive not to do this: that and the glares Rhydian gave everyone else who volunteered. Gerard promised everyone Rhydian would never betray the Knights again and would not attack anyone for guarding a suspected criminal: the younger ones didn’t want to take any chances. Most of them had at some point snuck next door to hear Carjadzi’s tales of the monster Rhydian used to be and none of them fancied meeting that.

“It’s all right,” she said reassuringly. “Extra-judicial killings are a thing the Knights are used to. The Collegium took down the Wyllanbar and nobody batted an eyelid. Nobody really goes after the Demiurge of Deception. Lahav’s trickery is frankly dangerous and everyone forgives him because it’s him – this will be no exception.”

Rhydian sat up, pushing her from him. “It’s different to me,” he growled. “Either I betray the Knights, to whom I have sworn allegiance, or I betray Samuel, to whom I swore an oath, or I sit back and let my friends – possibly my former friends – humiliate, mutilate or kill the woman I love – the person who makes my life worth living. But, as Gerard is so keen to point out, this is about you, not me. Anyone else with a list of kills that long would be identified by the Knights, brought in for trial or killed resisting arrest, and then imprisoned, possibly forever, or executed. Back when we first met you could have expected pillorying or mutilation at the least – or more likely, to be hunted down by a righteous mob like Aelindis. Did you think that through when you started this murderous career of yours?”

“Is this about my fate, or the likely effect on you?” Blodeuwedd asked acidly, standing up. “If this is about saving your friendships and career, don’t worry – I’ll make it very clear you are completely innocent and knew nothing about all this. No blame will attach to you.”

“It is not!” he snapped, climbing to his feet to face her. “It’s about – Blodeuwedd, beloved, this is about you, and why you did what you did, and what is going to happen to you as a result. And yes, there are issues here around me, and what I’m going to do now, but those should never overshadow your story.”

“Everyone I killed came here to hurt you, or me, or our children, or our friends,” she replied simply. “Did you never wonder why all your enemies never tried to assault the Manor – not since Pryderi? In truth, plenty of them tried, and not one of them got away alive.”

Rhydian swallowed. “How many?”

She shrugged. “Like you, I lost count.”

“You never needed to protect me,” he said carefully. “I’m stronger than any Fae bar a Demiurge now. The decision to kill in defence of the Knights was yours, and – on some level – I’m grateful, flattered even, that you care so much, but – on another – if you had given me the choice – or asked me what I wanted – this is not what I would have chosen.”

She moved to lean against the wall elegantly. “Then go. We are not married, so you need not sign any papers, and Gerard will ensure you get custody of the children. If you like, I’ll issue a public denouncement of you and take the blame for our separation-“

“Don’t be impossible,” Rhydian snarled at her. “I will never abandon you – whatever the others decide now, they know they must decide for both of us – and my love for you is not conditional on any outcome or any revelations – I will love you no matter what. You killed to protect us – I killed for amusement and for a set of twisted beliefs. If you deserve death or punishment, I deserve it too, and I’ve made that very clear to Lahav and Gerard!”

“They handed you over to be tortured by Carjadzi,” Blodeuwedd said, leaning into Rhydian’s chest and running her hands over his face. “I suppose we could claim I deserve the same treatment.”

Rhydian just clasped her tightly.

*

“So what do we do with her?” Gerard asked Lahav and Samuel, all of them slumped on the sofa in the living quarters. “Patience says we cannot just pretend it didn’t happen – says anyone else found to be committing extra-judicial killings, even in the name of protection, would face consequences.”

Lahav considered this. “All she did was protect her home, children and Rhydian. And us. We could argue self-defence in all cases, I imagine. Or provocation. Kill or be killed. That sort of thing.”

“Are you trying to find her innocent?” Gerard asked disbelievingly.

“Yes,” came the response. “I don’t like senseless slaughter – you know that – but this wasn’t premeditated murder – this was people who came here looking for a fight finding one. Chances are Patience would have done the same – Patience takes people alive and puts them on trial because she can, but Blod’s not a Demiurge and chances are a lot of them could have killed her! I’m actually more horrified that we left her in a position to do this – she could have been killed! We ought to guard this place better when Patience is away. I’ll get Ishri to talk to the Collegium.”

“Ishri believes in benefitting humanity and helping people!” Gerard started, then sank down into the cushions. “I just invoked Ishri as a paragon of virtue. This has been a long day.”

“Well, don’t look at me,” Samuel said sharply. “She’s not one of mine, so no responsibility there! Yes, I put laws in place around restricting weapons and offensive spells to those tasked with enforcing the law, or those with a justifiable reason for using them, such as protecting oneself from evil Unseelie coming to kill you and those you love. Admittedly Blod doesn’t have the necessary certification stating she has passed the ‘Importance of Care when Handling Weapons and Dangerous Spells’ test, but I’m not sure we can find her guilty of misusing who she is under that test. It’s like saying we’re going to prosecute Carjadzi for having knives for fingers rather than for all those photographs he took of us all when we were sunbathing topless.”

“As opposed to the photographs of you,” Lahav muttered snidely, “taken in a studio with the help of many assistants and lighting techniques and bottles of oil and that fluffer.”

“Off topic,” Gerard called, blushing. “Samuel – you do have a Cold Iron prison.”

“Yes, and I insist that anyone incarcerated there is found guilty by a just court of law. And that they are brought in by the Enforcers of the Pact. The leader of the Enforcers is downstairs: you are welcome to ask him for help.”

“As I matter of fact I did,” Gerard sighed. “Rhydian said Blodeuwedd is coming round to her regrowth cycle anyway: would I be willing to imprison him for twenty years or so in her place so that by the time she regrew her sentence would be over and everything could go back to normal for the two of them. I refused. He then said that pillorying and mutilation are illegal these days, so said it was imprisonment or death if she resisted arrest, and if we killed her – permanently – we would have to kill him to get to her. He also said he was responsible for the Enforcer rotas and if we imprisoned her he would simply stick himself on permanent guard duty outside her cell, and he hinted strongly that he would then burn her down and take whatever punishment was coming for helping her escape.”

“It’s the Inquisition problem all over again,” Lahav said. “Rhydian’s prepared to suffer whatever it takes to put things right. “

“Yes,” Gerard agreed, “But this time it is not his fault and I’m not prepared to set a precedent of letting the innocent suffer to save the guilty.”

They all sat quietly for a little while, before Samuel said quietly,

“I think I’ve got it.”

Lahav looked amused. “Well done for finding it, but take your hand off it and go to your room.”

“Not that,” Samuel said, slightly annoyed. “You lot act like I’m just a long-running sex joke sometimes. A solution. Nothing she’s done would be illegal at all if she were an Enforcer of the Pact – she would be acting to apprehend villains. I mean, apart from murdering them all rather than bringing them in to face justice, but these are difficult concepts for the Seol Eile – next door still want paying for babysitting even when we’ve explained that in our eyes they’re kidnapping our children and force-feeding them crème eggs and Coke.”

Gerard considered this. “I feel we’re setting a lower standard for her because she’s our friend and we sympathise,” he says. “This doesn’t feel right.”

“No,” Lahav agreed cheerfully, “but anything we do to her for her crimes Rhydian will insist we do to him for his, and I have no taste for watching either of them suffer. She’s protected us and our children and our friends. Rhydian needs to get over his guilt for a few atrocities committed about eight hundred years ago. No-one cares.”

Gerard thought for a while. “I’ll consent on one condition. She signs the Pact of Samuel.”

Samuel looked up, startled. “My Pact is not a punishment, Gerard. It’s a promise of mutual protection.”

“And mutual responsibility,” Gerard said. “Either she repents of what she’s done, and is willing to promise never to kill again except in dire need, and signs the Pact, or I have no choice but to drag her out for trial.”

“We’ll make an Unseelie heroine of her if we do that,” Samuel replied.

“Yes,” said Gerard, “but she’ll have to see the look on Rhydian’s face when she’s sentenced.”

*

Seeing the tall figure walk into the room, her head bowed, unable to meet their eyes, Gerard thinks this might actually be punishment enough. Blodeuwedd keeps her gaze downcast at all times and her hand quavers so much as she takes the pen that Rhydian has to steady her arm before she can manage to scribble a shaky signature onto the Pact. Once done, she buries her face in Rhydian’s neck and he can feel her tears soaking his shirt.

The rest leave quietly, Gerard carrying the copy of the Pact. Samuel pauses in the doorway and says, “Rhydian, I need a word with her. In private.”

“Not now,” Rhydian says tightly. “Later.”

“Now,” Samuel says. “Blodeuwedd, as Guardian of the Seelie and your leader, I order you to come with me.”

Rhydian draws his sword. Blodeuwedd detaches herself from him and hurries after Samuel, taking one quick look back to ensure her lover is not following. Once alone in the side room, Samuel lets his hand brush against hers.

“I am still your friend,” he says. “I hope you are mine. I understand that you won’t want to see me for a while – but I hope we will go back to the way things were soon enough. You are always welcome at the Palace – not just as one of the Seelie, but as my old acquaintance and confidant and friend.”

She nods, and he sees her tremble, unable yet to speak without crying.

“Just one thing,” he continues, “Before we put all this behind us. I need you to know that if you kill again – without just cause, as an Enforcer of the Pact – if you kill where you could capture – I will order Rhydian to bring you in. Next time you consider destroying someone because you can, because nobody will ever know, you need to think how Rhydian will feel when his lord – myself – orders him to drag you before me for trial and imprisonment, and to kill you if you resist. Rhydian will never disobey a direct order from me – nor will he ever harm you – so I imagine the most likely outcome would be that he would turn his blade on himself. Think of that – it is Rhydian, not you, who will pay for any further crimes.”

He leaves and Rhydian is by her side in an instant, holding her while she cries, promising her everything will get better, that they will make it through this, that he will never leave her.

He cannot get her to tell him what Samuel said to her.