Tales of Myth and Legend

Part 2 – The Tale of Sir Arthur

By Richard C.H. Davies

Warning this story contains: Giantess witch, fantasy fiction, Shrunken Man, Shrunken Women, giantess, kidnap, giant woman lick, soft vore, naked giantess, chase, hard vore, human to animal transformation

"Have you heard of the tale of King Arthur?" She asked. 

They all nodded and suddenly looked bored. 

"Well, how about hearing the true story?" Several of them shrugged. 

"It's all mythical anyway," Peter noted. Ember shrugged; she gently laid her slender hands on the armrests of her chair; Ignoring his jibe. 

"Before King Arthur was King, he was known as Arthur, she started. He was a wandering Knight; he was of no particular interest to anybody. Perhaps except," she raised an index finger, "for the Lady of Lake Windermere, so here goes…" she cleared her throat as she began her story. “Many, many… many years ago, one dark stormy day…

…Arthur found himself in some particularly beastly weather. He had to dismount from his horse and tug it by the reins to move it forwards. He pushed through the brambles and branches. 

The wind and rain pounded down upon them. What little of his leather armour there was, was completely sodden. 

A flash of lightning caused his horse to rear, strike him on the shoulder and gallop away in a panicked frenzy. 

Arthur was alone and lost, like all of you perhaps. 

He pushed on and on, climbing over muddy hills, trudging through soggy ditches. Completely alone. The horse has fled with his pack. 

Then after some hours he topped the chest of hillock and witnessed what he initially thought was an angel. He beheld a bright glowing light atop a stone tower. 

He stumbled through the long grasses, down the hill, crossed a stream and brushed through a reed bed. Until he looked up at a stone castle. It was not a particularly large castle. It was a modest one. But it had a magnificent large hall with a timber pitched roof and a huge stone tower to the side. 

The glowing miracle shone like a beacon. 

He wondered if he was beholding the famed Holy Grail itself. The very Grail that he was searching for. It would bring him fame and fortune. 

He staggered to the iron portcullis. It was raised. 

He continued through to the large wooden oaken doors. 

"Who goes there!" a guard shouted through his trim visor, his voice cracking in the night and through the wind and the rain. He was looking through a peephole in the oak door. 

"It is Arthur, I am a Knight!" Arthur shouted back. 

"A Knight he says…" the guard mumbled, looking back at someone. 

"A Knight ehh?" Another voice spoke at his side. "Where's 'is 'orse then?"

"He's got no horse," the other replied. 

"Well, he's not much of a Knight without an 'orse, ask 'im ask where's 'is 'orse…"

"Ere sir Knight, where's your horse then?" 

"My horse panicked in the storm, I was thrown clear and my horse galloped away…" Arthur replied, clearing his wet fringe of hair from his face. "Sirs please won't you let me in… I'm soaking wet and this storm has paid a terrible toll on me. I have an important mission,"

"Mission, eh?" The guard said. 

"What's the mission methinks?" The other whispered loudly. "Ask 'im,"

"You ask him, you lazy bones," the other argued back. 

"It's ye job to ask them questions. Ye ask them questions and I poke 'em with me pointy lance if thee get them answers wrong. Ye're the delinquent one of us…"

There was a pause. 

"Delinquent?" The guard asked back confused. 

"Yeah… ye know, ye speak all proper and such…"

"You mean eloquent, you fool?" There was a sound of leather hitting metal. 

Then a sharp yelp. Then another pause.  

"Sorry sir Knight," the guard looked back through the peephole. "My fellow guardsman would like to enquire as to the purpose of your mission,"

"Why," he cleared his throat, "I am searching for the Holy Grail. I believe I beheld it hovering above this very tower,"

"Oh, did you now?" The guard replied, his eyes growing wide with wonder. "I mean that's probably something we would notice. Pat, have you seen any Holy Grails?" He asked the other guard. 

"Not lately, no," the other replied with a chuckle. 

"Please sirs, may I enter?" 

"I'm not sure…" 

"Let him pass," a smooth female voice commanded. 

"Of course, Lady Windermere, of course," the guard cleared his throat and spoke in his finest voice. 

There was a loud clunk, followed by several others as the fast iron and oak braces and bolts were released. The huge oak doors instantly creaked open out towards Arthur. 

He stepped backwards and peered in through the grim light. 

The guards held lanterns at their side, and then he beheld a sight that nearly made him fall to his knees. 

There was a lady with a white flowing dress, it seemed not to allow mud to soil it. Her blonde silken hair billowed and cascaded over her shoulders. Her lips were luscious and her glorious blue eyes were icy but wondrous. 

"You are welcome as my guest sir Knight, known as Arthur…"

"Oh, dear lady, thank you… thank you. I am eternally grateful for your hospitality. I am appalled at my appearance."

"We shall have you bathed in the finest rosemary infused bath," she turned to her side. "Ladies, please see to this brave knight’s every need." She turned back to him, fixating him with those beautiful, intelligent and powerful eyes. "Sir knight. I would be delighted if you shall join me for dinner, shall we say in two hours?" 

Arthur stepped forward and gently took the ladies hand, he bent forward and pressed his lips ever so softly on the top of her hand and kissed it. 

"I would be honoured my Lady. What may I call you if I may be so bold? I heard your name to be Lady Windermere?"

"I am Lady Guinevere of Windermere," she replied evenly and without any haughtiness whatsoever. 

Arthur bowed very deeply, his leather jerkin creaking from the strain of such a performance.

"I am truly honoured to make your acquaintance," he replied, completely besotted with her already. 

"As am I sir Knight. I will see you in hours deuce," she turned and seemed to float away. 

Gentle hands of her maidens guided a stunned Arthur to his guest chamber where he could bathe. 

Impossibly the iron bath was already drawn and steaming. 

Clothes were laid out for him. His very size, precisely so, clean and pressed. Shoes with gleaming buckles. He was astonished. 

He tried to query about Lady Guinevere to the maidens but they appeared to be mutes or shy, he didn't know. They just blushed and guided him to the next task. 

They scrubbed his body in the bath and cleaned him up, they trimmed his hair, beard and cleaned his nails and teeth. They didn't shy from the task. 

Finally, he was ready to sup with the Lady of the castle. 

*

"Hold on, I thought Arthur met Guinevere, once he had his sword, and so on?" Rich interrupted. 

"Well, it depends who you listen to," Ember replied. She paused, waiting for any other questions to be exhausted and then resumed her story. 

*

Arthur was taken to the dining room. It was a vast chamber with an impossible number of lit candles. The finest silver was set out and piles of food. He marvelled at the sight in front of him. 

There was side of beef, joint of lamp, several roast chickens, partridge, pheasant, peacock, and root vegetables aplenty. He knew he would sleep well tonight, content and with a full belly. 

The most marvellous sight was the Lady, she sat at the end of the table. Her arms resting elegantly on the arm rests of her high- backed chair. 

She looked pure and beautiful. 

"You look radiant my Lady," Arthur bowed deeply at the threshold of the room. 

"Why thank you sir Knight," the lady tipped her head politely. She gestured for him to join the seat next to her. Breaking tradition for him as the guest to sit at the other end of the table. 

He liked the informality of it. 

He took his seat and waited for her to select her food. 

"Can I pour you some wine?" He offered. She nodded her thanks. 

"It is so very dull living here surrounded by hills and nothingness. Tell me sir Knight, about some of your wandering tales."

Arthur accepted her invitation, breaking off a chicken thigh; and causing him to gain greasy hands. He regaled her with a number of his brave tales of saving maidens, helping townsfolk, and helping to find lost children. He may have embellished one or two or all of the tales a bit, but a story sometimes needs a bit of embellishment to get the point across, don't you think?

Ember looked across at the faces of her young guests. They were listening with rapt interest. 

"I think the stew is about ready." She stood up and used a large ladle to pour out each of their bowls. She gave them a slice of bread and a spoon and returned to her seat with her own. 

"How do you like it?" She asked. Rich and Neil nodded with smiles. 

"It tastes amazing!" they said. Michelle looked sick, she rolled something around in her mouth and plucked something out of her mouth with disgust, it looked like a small limb of a bird, or frog, or bat. 

She dared not think about it any further in case her imagination took hold further. 

"I can't eat this," she whispered to Kat. 

"Just scoff it down, we are her guests," Kat whispered back, and then smiled sweetly to Ember. 

"Lovely food, thank you for your kind hospitality… I suppose you're a bit like Lady Windermere," 

Ember smiled ever so sweetly. 

"That's very kind of you to say my dear," she said, blushing slightly. "Good hospitality has run through the ages of our kind and it will hopefully never be forgotten. 

Michelle choked and coughed on something. Kat gave her a sharp glance and she swallowed, it felt like another limb. She nearly hurled but managed to keep it down. 

"Can you tell more of the story?" Neil asked Ember. Her eyes lit up with pleasure. 

"Ah of course, I was worried you were just humouring me whilst you waited for food," they were all slurping on the stew as she continued. 

Arthur told many a tale to Lady Windermere. Right into the night they spoke and shared his tales. 

She charmed him thoroughly. She rested her chin on her hands, leaned forwards with extreme interest. 

She laughed at the appropriate punchlines and she covered her left breast with her hand and recoiled with shock and fear when it was called for. 

Arthur found himself lost in her beautiful eyes. He lost track of time, and indeed his sobriety. 

He found that when he stood up to go to the garderobes, that he was quite drunk. He had to stagger all the way there. 

"Garderobe?" Peter asked. 

"Its an old fashioned toilet that was linked to a castle," Ember replied. Peter nodded and she continued her tale.  

When Arthur returned the table was completely cleared and the number of lit candles had significantly diminished. 

Lady Windermere still sat at her chair, looking as beautiful as ever. He wondered if she was as drunk. 

"I'm afraid I must bid you good night… or good morning," he chuckled noting the hour. "I seem to have imbibed too much for my constitution to handle and I worry that I will do injustice to your hospitality."

Lady Windermere nodded very kindly. 

"Of course sir Knight. Would you join me for a night cap?" She invited, gesturing to his empty chair. 

He nodded his thanks and staggered over to the chair. Before he sat down she held up her hand, inviting him to pause. 

He stood still, swaying slightly from the wine, although he thought that he was perfectly still. 

"I think such a brave and dutiful Knight should have a uniform to befit his nature," she whispered some words, foreign sounding and with a flourish of her fingers there was a flash of light, brighter than tens of candles and he looked down his chest. 

He staggered back in surprise. 

He beheld a beautiful tunic, fitted perfectly to his body, it replaced his other outfit. There was a beautifully embroidered emblem of a red dragon on the front below his chest. 

"I…" he stammered. Lost for words. 

"Magic?" He exclaimed finally. 

"I have… a special set of skills, magic is a science of sorts…" she gave a thin and modest smile. "I'm glad it worked, I haven't used my skills for years," she lied.