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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 1:34:47 GMT -5
How would it feel?! It would break her heart slowly with every word he spoke and every action he made. Every time he looked at a noble woman and wondered: Do I Love Her Above All Overs, she would die a little more inside. THAT was how it would make her feel! "The man I love is a noble man, if he forgot me then I would be forced to watch him stand before me and try to out together his life, knowing that I could do nothing to help him." She admitted, "You've loved her for three years! I would spare her the pain of knowing that every laugh and every touch she treasured was not ever forgotten by you, if I could do that." But she couldn't!
"I will not give you her name. She will be your secret, and incentive for you to screech you mind for answers." And if they were lucky then by dawn she would be back in his arms! He would remember their love and forget . . . . and forget that he didn't like her servant's touch! She knew that was unfair of her, for he was trying to adjust to allot but she did not want to see his face when he learned that he'd made commoners knights and servants . . . . . whatever she was to him. He said she'd be his queen but she could not call her self that. Even in bitter thoughts.
"She will not be waiting for you to join her tonight. As I said, if by dawn you do not know it, then I will share it with you." Or hope he'd forgotten again. "We should focus on the more important aspects of your life, and see what can be done to help you." How far back did this go? "You thought my father was alive, so we will start from there, and the events surrounding those days." Since he would not tell him what he recalled, she would start giving him details from then. Details such as, "You might notice that you have many scars from battles that you don't remember. You've almost seen death many times in three years."
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 8:57:04 GMT -5
He was a nobleman?! So that's why she was uncertain as to what her rank was. Of course, how did her brother move up there? Her brother was not what he wished to bring into question right now, though he did plan to address that subject of men who did not look like nobles -- Lancelot for instance -- and how they became knights. Hearing her explanation of this woman . . . it only made him more curious. How did she know so much about her? Three years ago, Guinevère and him were not close -- not that they ever really were. So how did she know so much? Arthur must have made no secret of his affection and love for this woman, or Morgana knew and she told her about it. He wanted to know her name. He needed to! "This is not a game Guinevère!" He stated, getting increasingly annoyed by her refusal to tell him. "I do not need incentive to recover my memory. I need to know who she is. Perhaps if I went to see her, she could help me in remembering the past three years." Surely a woman he loved would have that effect on him.
He -- yet again -- became distracted when she spoke about the fact that he had nearly died three times, and that he had many battle scars. How did he not remember near death experiences?! At this point though, he knew better than to call her a liar, or believe that she was anything but serious. He needed to see these battle scars. He looked at her a bit awkwardly. "Excuse me," he said, pardoning himself from her company as he went to his changing curtain, moving behind it. It was one thing when she aided Gaius in tending to his wounds, but he was not going to remove his shirt just like that in front of her. That wasn't exactly decent, and he had not quite reached that comfort level with her. When behind the changing board, he lifted his shirt up and searched his body for scars.
Immediately, he saw one on his lower shoulder, three claw marks. Is that what she had been trying to show him before? From the dragon? He often could remember where he received his scars from, but it seemed like he had a whole new series of them and could not place a single one. Some of which were so large, that he was not even quite sure how he he could have forgotten such a battle that had caused him. Of course, he forgot a lot of important things apart from battles. He forgot the woman who was apparently the love of his life, he forgot that he was king, and he forgot about Morgana betrayal -- that probably being the most painful thing to remember.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 9:43:26 GMT -5
Guinevère watched him slightly amused surprise as he walked behind the screen to look at his scars. She had ignored his comments on the love of his life, for she was not about to tell him it was her. Part of her hoped he'd start to remember her. Hoped that she'd say something she'd said before or smile at him like she always did and he'd start to know. But memories were strange things, and it seemed very word she had spoken to him, and every smile she'd given him were lost to him. Would it be better for him this way? Never knowing their love and not having to face the uncertain time with her status to add to his troubles? She'd often feared that other kingdoms would not approve and she would cause more trouble for him then good.
No. She wasn't strong enough to walk away. She was weak, and wanted to be in his arms. "You will find many new scars, from battles. The one over your heart is the one from the dragon. Your lady love was the dragon's target because she was foolish enough to leave the safety of the castle. You managed to get to her in time and get her out of the way, taking the attack for her." She closed her eyes and shivered at the memory of seeing him hurt because she was trying to be brave. So foolish of her! "You saved her life."
Not wanting to keep the conversation on 'the girl' she keep going, "The one on your lower right side, is from a joust. Odin sent an assassin to kill you and you did not know you were jousting against him. He had a blade on the end of the . . . . . stick thing. He hit you full force with it! You were lucky not to have been torn open!" Madness! That time HE'D been the foolish one! "What did you do after he'd hurt you?! Got on your horse and jousted again!."
Her tone sounded slightly annoyed but amused none the less. It was one of them memories that she still hated to think about but was able to do so with less fear and slight fondness for all the other memories. "You won that one, by the way, though HOW is quite beyond me! I thought you'd be killed for sure!" Yet he always came back to her . . . . always . . . . please! Always come back to me!
"If you can look between the dragon claw marks, you will see two thin scars. Small, and almost faded now but there. You were bitten by some sort of beast. Gaius called it the questing beast, and said that no one ever survived a bit from it. The kingdom started having a funeral for you . . . . yet here you are . . . proving everyone wrong . . . . . like always . . . . " Her last two words were a whispered memory, meant more for her then his hears.
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 13:30:24 GMT -5
Arthur had many questions though it seemed she was already beginning to answer them as she started to list off his various scars and where he had gotten them from. Arthur had moved behind the screen so that he would not undress in front of her, though it seemed to make very little difference. For it appeared she had memorized his body. He did not know how he felt about this. She knew so many specific details, the source of every wound, where every one was located . . . and she was not even looking at him! This was odd. Very odd indeed. And Arthur would inquire about that soon enough . . . once he was done actually listening and getting a better insight into his own scars, from another person. As obscure as that sounded. He looked a the one that had come from the dragon, but it was not without a story. He had saved the woman he loved? He really needed to see her; he really needed to know who this woman was, but she had evaded his question, just as he had evaded hers.
He would wait until she was done. Though it did sound like quite a dramatic story; stepping in the direct line of danger in the hopes to protect her, which he apparently had! Even if he did not know who this woman was, he felt relief that she was alright. That the person he apparently loved, was safe. His faze then went to his lower right side, as he listened to her explain where that one was from. Odin. That was one name he had not expected to hear yet was not surprised by it either. He had killed his son, so it was not surprise that he wanted his revenge. Were they at war with Odin as well? It wouldn't surprise Arthur if he had somehow forget that entire war as well. He did not ask though, he just continued to listen as he inspecting the injury. How had he managed to joust an assassin? Had no one been aware? He must have really hit him with his lance for the wound looked severe enough. But, he had to give a slight smirk to himself when he heard her explain that he had gotten right back on the horse and finished the joust. Did he win? Just another question to add along to list he was mentally compiling. His question been answered shortly after entering his mind. HA! So he had won! That kept him the reigning jousting champion! Excellent! He would have to boast to others about that, especially Sir Leon who always proved to be his greatest competition in the joust.
Arthur had thought that was it, but there was another?! He felt strangely violated that she knew so much about his body. Had she been the one to tend to all of these? No, surely not. She was not a trained physician though he did remember at times she would assist Gaius. But if the wounds were as severe as she described, then they would have required the expertise of a trained professional. So how the hell did she know this much about him?! Arthur found this a bit unsettling and instead of his eyes trailing to where she began to explain his his next scar, he leaned against the wall, the curtain still concealing his position. He looked up to the ceiling. He had been through so much; everyone had; the kingdom had! And he was utterly oblivious, totally unaware of everything. And, she knew his battle wounds all too well. This could not be general knowledge! His gaze still staring at the ceiling, he noticed that she stopped talking. While he did not move his position, he now chose to speak. "Anything else?" He asked in a sort of drowned out, passively asked question, half expecting there to be more; half expecting that to be the end. Either way, she apparently knew more about him than he did.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 13:56:49 GMT -5
Guinevère could tell by his tone that he was trying to take all this in. If she had been more used to the game she might have realized she was giving too much away about them, rather then just about him. She knew his body very well as she had been both nurse and lover to him. She knew ever scar and just about every story behind them. Even the emotional ones that he carried and no one saw but her self. Just has he knew her's."There is only other major one I can think of at the moment, and it's about two weeks old."
"On your right thigh there is one from an arrow hitting you. I'm not completely sure on the story behind it but I know it came from Cenred's immortal men, during you fight to try to bet them to the cup of life." One that was fresh enough that he might even still feel when he moved just the wrong way. She wasn't sure on if he would or not, for Arthur did not complain about it. There had been so much else going on that the arrow wound had been almost over looked.
She knew he'd been shot but he'd have to ask Merlin for the details on that one. Not that he would need to if Gaius was proved correct and his memory started to come back with the dawn. Guinevère closed her eyes and prayed it was so. She still felt like this was her fault in a way, since the injury had come from---well, from their time together. "I know this is hard to take in, and believing me is even harder but you don't have to learn everything tonight. Hopefully it will return soon, and you can laugh at this. Or . . . . try to forget, forgetting . . . . "
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 14:39:43 GMT -5
Oh great! Another one that she knew of. He waited to hear where this one was. Probably somewhere even more concealed like his --- thigh?! How on earth did she know about that one. Arthur almost wanted to take off his pants and inspect it, but that would be even more inappropriate than removing his shirt, even if he was hidden behind the changing board. He would take her word for it. She seemed to know every other scar on him. That would be the first question he would ask her. He remained leaning against the wall, waiting a few prolonged moments before bringing himself forward, grabbing his shirt from where he had draped it over the board. He looked at his various scars once more. He would have most certainly question them sooner or later had she not provided him with such detailed explanations -- too detailed.
He put his arms through the sleeves and over his head, pulling it down so that he was now fully dressed once again. He suppressed a sigh, not quite sure what to do now. His mind was working too quickly for sleep to easily over come him, and he was too afraid to face the public, risking them becoming aware of his current situation. He would go crazy though if he just remained in this room alone . . . hopefully Guinevère's nobleman lover would not miss her for the night. He stepped out from behind the changing curtain, keeping a suitable distance from her, as if he was almost afraid to go closer. Had . . . something happened between them? This thought left his mind as quickly as it had come. Impossible! Which is why he had to ask. "How do you, know so much about my injuries," he finally questioned, slightly raising an eyebrow. As Prince most probably knew when he received a life threatening wound, but the details in which she knew them, the way she had practically memorized their exact location . . . Arthur needed to know how this was possible.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 14:54:05 GMT -5
"How do you, know so much about my inj--" "Nurse!" She blurted out before he could finished, seeming to know she had given something away. Would he wonder how she knew too much, event he ones that she had not been there for? Would he wonder why he had the same nurse when there were so many more trained) women in the city? Would he start to put the clues together and see her for who she was to him?
"I was nurse for allot of them. And everyone knows everything you do just about so even the ones I wasn't there for I know about." But it wouldn't explain how she knew the more personal ones, such as the one on his leg. It would not explain allot of things but she wasn't ready to admit to him that she didn't want another woman tending to him because he wanted to be the one to tend to his needs. "with so many attacks on the city in the past few years, I have gotten quite good. I could list on any wounds from your knights. Especially the new ones. And as I've known Sir Leon since I was a child, I most of his as well." Just not the personal ones like she knew of him.
She walked over closer to him and she looked up into his face, looking to his eyes and trying to see if they looked different, or even just looked at her different but they were still the bright blue they always were. The just lacked the softened expression around them that she had come to known as the look he had when he was looking at her. "We're friends!" She blurted out, not being able to let him think she was nothing to him. "I know you don't remember, and you think I am just a servant but we are friends. You, Merlin and . . . I, we are friends."
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 15:11:10 GMT -5
Wow. She didn't even let him finish before she started offering an explanation. As if she was expecting him to ask her how she knew about his injuries. Which only made him further wonder how well she knew him. She was rambling. Oh my gosh! She was rambling! FINALLY! Something Arthur remembered about her. That she rambled! He had been annoyed by it in the past, and while it was still not his favorite quality for someone to talk faster than they could think . . . it was the familiarity of it that made the prince grateful for it. Even if he was not sure he fully believed her. But there was no other logical explanation. How else would she know of his wounds that were in places such as his thigh? Maybe that was it though; maybe she just remembered all of his injuries; maybe she just had a good memory . . . just as he apparently had a terrible one.
When she came closer to him, he remained there for a moment. She was looking up at him, as if expecting him to say or do something. He just shifted his eyes a bit to the side, waiting for her to speak first. For this staring silence made him feel even more uncomfortable. Was she going to touch his face again?! He took a few steps back as that thought entered his mind. He wanted to keep proper distance about him. Wait. She had a lover. How did he feel about his woman being so intimate with another man? Arthur tried to remember if Guinevère was just a touchy feely person, but she had never quite been so with him. The most he could recall was when she spoke to him in the empty storage room when the kingdom was cursed; even though, she only just touched his arm and then quickly removed her hand. This was different. This time, she was far too comfortable.
"We're friends!" Really? Well, he sort of assumed that they were on speaking terms for her to . . . know so much about him. but the way she said it was, odd. Maybe he was just reading into things all too much. Though when provided him with this piece of information, he subconsciously took another step away from her, as if this determined why she was so comfortable around him. That feeling right now, was not mutual. "Right . . . since Ealdor," he said, in a slightly hesitant voice. He had seen a different side of her there, but even when he said this, he meant it very casually. He doubted he would share the same strong friendship that he had started to develop with Merlin. After all, he had known her for years. What would have changed among them to suddenly alter his entire perception of her and the two of them become close friends? It seemed odd. But then again, much of what was going on was odd. And he had no control over it for everything was the past, and he was simply learning about it rather than being offered ways to change it.
At least he remembered Ealdor. At least that sort of gave him a basis of how he could remotely see the two of them becoming friends. "I remember that much," he revealed to her, realizing his words were beginning to answer what she had kept trying to ask him; her former question of what the last thing he remembered was. "What happened after that made us become friends?" He was reluctant to ask the question and even still maintained a distance from her. But, maybe it would be helpful to be filled in on the details. So that it would create some more understanding in terms of his interactions with her and why he found so much of what she did -- mainly the touching -- and said -- meaning her knowledge of him -- to be alarming, when to her it seemed nothing but normal.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 15:30:28 GMT -5
He took a few steps back from her and Guinevère's hopeful look faded down to a muted masked one. It hurt. That move right there, hurt more then his talk of listing all the ladies he might have fallen for. She took a few steps back from him and then turned to talk over and sit down on the trunk at the end of his bed. She wanted to badly for him to hold her! She'd never wanted him to hold her so badly as in this moment. This Arthur, the one of years past could never know about his love for a servant! She made a silent promise then, to not tell him.
She would give him what answers she could and then tell him to rest. She would leave him to his thoughts, and hope that when she sought him out in the morning that his mind was his or that Gaius had answers. How words however made her look up at him in angry shock! What had happened!? As if a servant wasn't worth just being friends with on natural curse?! Granted, they'd been forced to spend three days together and it had helped but she liked to think it was because they had so much on common rather then 'something had happened'!!
She just stared at him in an wide eyed look while trying to think how to answer it. In the end, she laughed softly and humorously. "Three years." She whispered, "Three years later you are almost like a completely different person." One that seemed only able to hurt her, "Nothing happened!" She demand out this time and stood up to look at him giving him an angry stare. "Is it really so unbelievable that we could be friends?! If you need something to justify it then . . . . tell your self I lied! Or tell your self that during that stupid joust where your pride meant more then your life, that I stood by you! Tell your self that when my father was killed that you came to me! That when you got disinherited I was who you turned to!! That we are friends because YOU are not the cold transitional man your father was but someone better! Someone who does see status but judges by character! Your a king who will let a man rise and fall by his actions and not by the chance of his birth!"
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 16:12:23 GMT -5
He was not sure how to read her expression. She looked shocked, and then she began . . . laughing. Uh oh. This wasn't good. It was like the calm before the storm, and storm it did. She was about to have another outburst, he could feel it. At least this time they were practically on opposite sides of the room so that she could not hit him gain. Nothing happened? Something had to have happened. It didn't make sense for him to just randomly be friends with her. Something told him that she was not finished though. That she was going to keep going. And she did. Boy did she ever. Each phrase she shot out hit him like a dagger to his chest. Each one left him with more questions, though a part of him was too afraid to ask. When learning of Morgana's betrayal, he had asked himself how it could possibly get worse. He had no idea; no idea at all.
"Or tell your self that during that stupid joust where your pride meant more then your life, that I stood by you!"
She stood by him? Why on earth did she need to! It's not like he asked her to! He had been in dozens of jousts before, why was this one so special or out of the ordinary? Was she referring to him getting back on the horse? He obviously had pride, he was the prince! He could not show everyone that he was weak; that he was so willing to give up just because he had suffered an injury. He had to prove to them that he was a man of his honor! Why was that any concern of hers? Why did she care so deeply if he was only keeping his word in a competition; if he didn't want to cower away suggesting to all those who relied on his leadership when in amidst a battle. To withdraw from a match was something he had never done, nor would ever do in the future. Why was she getting upset over that?! But Arthur knew better than to ask.
"Tell your self that when my father was killed that you came to me!"
He recalled her telling him that her father had been killed when trying to escape. Had Arthur been the one to kill him? Had he been the one who struck him with a sword, sending him to his death? Is that why he went to her after wards? Because he felt guilty over what he had done and hoped to repent by earning her forgiveness? Arthur could not see himself killing her father so easily, but it was entirely possible. He did not know himself as well as he could . . . . he was missing the last three years of his life. Who knows what he had done! Apparently a lot! But he could not question the subject of her father, as she had reacted to it sensitively before -- which was understandable. He did not want to suggest that she was lying again, or inquire into it further as discussing the death of a loved one was a different subject for anyone to engage in. It still left him curious though! But Arthur knew better than to ask.
"That when you got disinherited I was who you turned to!"
He had been WHAT?! Disinherited?! Why?! Why would his father had done such a thing?! He had been disinherited, and now he was king?! How the hell did that work! What had convinced his father to recant his decision? Wait, why had he made that decision in the first place! Had Arthur really done something so unforgivably outrageous that his father felt the need to disown him?! That caused great pain in Arthur, as he feared over what he had done, and as he grew afraid that as some point in the last three years, he had severely disappointed his father. He did not want that. He wanted to know what had happened that had created such a situation, and how it was remedied. Further more, why had he gone to her of all people? What could she have done to help? Had she done something to help? Is that how they became friends, because he had lived the life of a commoner for some time? He really wanted to know! But Arthur knew better than to ask.
That we are friends because YOU are not the cold transitional man your father was but someone better!"
Had she really just insulted his father?! How dare she! He was the king! . . . Sort of. In Arthur's eyes, he would always be the king until the worst happened; until he was dead. Even now when she told him that he was the king, Arthur only believed it was temporary. His father had to recover at some point. He could not stay in this state forever! He lacked the experience to be king; the knowledge; but apparently not the support. That still did not make him feel better equipped for the role. He was not ready for this kind of responsibility! Regardless of what she and anyone else believed! While she had insulted his father was she, paying him a compliment? He wasn't sure. What he did know was that he did not take kindly to anyone to insulted the king, his father, Uther Pendragon. He wanted to question her words against him. But Arthur knew better than to ask.
"Your a king who will let a man rise and fall by his actions and not by the chance of his birth!"
This answered a question that had been on his mind ever since having encountered that random group of men. The knights. The, commoners who had become knights. Had . . . had Arthur been the one to knight them? But why? What would be the incentive to do such a thing? How would his father have ever permitted him to do that? It was so . . . nontraditional. It went directly against the code of knighthood. He could not even convince his father to keep a single man knighted -- Lancelot -- so how on earth had he managed to knight not only one, not even two, but all for of those men?! He could not see the king appeasing such an action. He would have been completely against it! Had Arthur truly become that rebellious; that defiant against his father's laws? It didn't make any sense! But Arthur knew better than to ask.
Arthur waited for her next round of fire at him. But silence followed her last words. He was not looking at her. He wasn't sure where he was looking. His head was just spinning more rapidly than ever before. This overwhelming amount of information was too much for even him to handle. He wanted to be a coward and hide in the corner of his room, waiting for all of this to be over. He could not handle finding out anything more than what happened in the last few years. He was too afraid to ask anything more for she was no longer holding back. He had asked for answers, and she was giving him them. But, they were too much. It was too great. He couldn't fathom them. He could not wrap his head around any of them. Arthur blinked a few times, feeling very light headed, feeling as if all this information could quite possibly making him faint.
He caught his balance before stumbling but put his arms out a bit as if that was all that managed to keep him on his feet. He blindly reached for something, anything that would help brace him. "I . . . I need to sit down," he vocalized, not finding anything that would help him to keep his balance in this moment. He reached out a bit more, managing to grab hold of the back of a chair. One that he didn't even know was there, but played a purpose right now as he relied on it to keep him from stumbling over, falling to the ground. He felt more disoriented now than he did when he first awoke. He did not know what he should think about any of this! He felt so helpless! So unsure of what to do! So insecure! She was sparing him no details. Should he be grateful or should he be angry? Should he be devastated or should he feel proud? Arthur Pendragon knew better than to ask.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 16:33:49 GMT -5
Guinevère watched him as he spoke and tired to reach out for something. She knew he did not want her touching him but she reacted more out of habit then thought. She stood and rushed over to him, putting one hand on his arm and the other on his chest as she tired to help him balance himself! "I'm sorry!" She blurted out! "I keep forgetting that this is new to you while it's not to me! That you've no memory of how things had slowly changed and that everything must seem sudden to you. I will try to watch my words but you have changed so much in three years."
This Arthur had not learned what her Arthur had. He'd not taken the time to learn things for himself and worked off of his father's rule. He was kind in heart but not in actions. He had small signs of greatness mixed in with his bully like behavior at times. This was the Arthur before he'd learn pride was dangerous and men were great no matter the blood that ran though them.
She tired to help him sit in the chair. "I will do my best to watch my words, but you should return the same favor to me." King or no, she wasn't going to let him become who he had been. "Sit, please. Let me get you some water . . . or there might be some left over wine from earlier." When they'd had a privet supper then walked down to their secret place.
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 17:15:55 GMT -5
When she rushed towards him, he did not reject her support to help him over to a chair. He in fact, found it comforting, as her touch when she had informed him about Morgana. She seemed to understand the delicacy of the situation . . . and he knew that she was right. He should repay the same courtesy to her. He should be careful of what he said, for he did not know what they had been through, which was evidently quite a bit if they were this . . . close. If they had become friends. He collapsed easily enough in the chair, thankful that he had something to rest on. He closed his eyes and rested his back against the chair. While she told him how much he changed, he still did not know what kind of man she had grown to know. What man he was expected to be. One changed and learned through experience, and as he had not experienced anything she was talking about -- or did not remember any of it -- then how was he to become a different man?
Apparently, a better man than he remembered being. This question was not so easily answered . . . or maybe it could be. "I am sorry as well," he said in a soft voice, humbling himself. He did not often thank or apologize to servants but he had once thanked her in Ealdor, and seeing how upset he was making her, and how comforting she was trying to be, how helpful she was trying to be . . . she at least deserved an apology. He kept his eyes closed as she offered to get him some water, or wine. Wine! Oh that would be so perfect right now, but Arthur did not wish to drink it at the moment. He needed to keep a completely clear head, not enjoy the luxuries that his position granted him. "Just water," he clarified, suddenly realizing how dry his throat felt.
He paused for a moment, unsure whether to ask this next question or not. It would be a difficult one and he did not know if she would answer. But if she was trying to get him to remember, then maybe this would help. He opened his eyes so that he could look at her before asking this next bit. He still could not come to terms with everything she had said, but he was trying. They would both have to be patient with one another, something that was far more easily said than done. Considering Arthur's level of frustration, it would prove to be very challenging for him, but he also knew that lashing out at her was not the solution. "Who is the Arthur Pendragon that you know?" He wanted to know how different he was. Who he remembered being and who he had become. She seemed to know him well. How had he progressed over the years? Apart from being someone who judged a man on their character as oppose to their bloodline.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 17:28:23 GMT -5
She smiled at him in what she hoped was a comforting manor when he asked for Just Water, and reached over to touch his cheek as she did so often. Her smile slipped and eh quickly pulled her hand back instead, remembering that her touch wasn't a comfort to him. She gave another apologetic smile before turning to hurry over to get the pitcher and a cup. She knew his room well since she spent so much time in it, not having to think about where things were.
She handed him the cup and thought about how to answer the question he asked of her. "That is easiest question you could have asked me but the hardest to answer. Arthur is . . . . the greatest man I have ever known. He is good to his people, and loyal to his heart. He takes care of his friends and strangers alike, and fights for what he believes in his heart no matter what the cost to him self. He has his prideful moments, and more then a few arrogant ones, but . . . . " Her tone had went from solemn to loving, and now it paused and turned hesitant.
How much was too much? Too much pressure, too telling, too personal? "I was kidnapped once. They had meant to take Morgana . . . back she she was more sister then friend. He came for me, ageist his father's orders. There were so many examples I could give you, but my memories of you will not help you remember you. You should rest your mind, and try to sleep. When you awaken maybe the fog that has your mind will ease. And you will remember."
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 18:10:53 GMT -5
He slightly recoiled from her touch, still not used to her touching him in such . . . an intimate way. She seemed to recognize her mistake as she quickly pulled her hand away. If that was something she did often -- as they were friends -- then it would take time for him to get used to it for right now, it still made him uncomfortable. He took the cup from her, giving a short nod as a thank you without saying the words. He was still awaiting her answer to his question, and sure enough it came. She said it was easy, and yet hard. He could see how that would be. But to hear her say that he was the greatest man she had ever known . . . Wow. That didn't put any pressure on him at all! Had he changed that much? From her getting angry at him in Ealdor, to now when she thought of him so highly? It was surprising to say the least, and Arthur me than ever, feared in this moment the worst: that his memory would not return. That he would never be able to fulfill his duties with as much 'greatness' as she spoke of.
He looked at her curiously when she began to talk of her kidnapping. Had he done it for Morgana? Probably. Or were they truly good friends. For him to go against her father's orders, that was not a huge surprise. He had done the same when requiring the morteous flower to save Merlin. His father had forbidden that, but he still went. "We must have been good friends then," he said in a low voice, not realizing until he had spoken that he said it in past tense rather than present. He just wondered his practical it was for everything to return to him . . . all of these lost memories that were somehow wiped from his mind. "He sounds like someone who had come a long way from the man you grew angry with in Ealdor," he said, in a bit of a lighter note, though it was true. It was the last conversation he could recall with her, but it must have been something that they both built on. As she was the only one here, one who knew him well, perhaps it best to focus on the bits and pieces of his relationship with her.
But still, that constant fear that he would not recover any of these memories plagued him. For without being able to remember his justification for all he had done, what kind of king would he be? How could he be a leader to an entire kingdom? It was all just so much pressure; more than he was ever used to . . . as far as he could remember. When she suggested that he get some sleep, he knew that was impossible. He would not be able to rest his over working mind, frantic for answers, still delving deep in this thoughts to find them. "I doubt I will be able to rest," he told her rather honestly. He suddenly realized that perhaps it was her polite way of saying that she had to leave. He did not want her to, but also knew he could not ask her to stay. "But if someone is expecting you, then don't let me keep you," he told her with the faintest smile. That 'someone' he was referring to was of course the nobleman she spoke of; the one who she loved. He did not want to get on the bad side of anyone right now, especially not a fellow nobleman, or knight.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 18:29:46 GMT -5
"No, I saw him there too. In Eldor. I saw him not fight as a prince but among men. I saw him take time to give comfort the a man who lacked the heart to fight, and take time out to make sure a servant girl would be alright fighting men who would show her no mercy." That was something he would remember, something they could share. "I saw him give them hope, and got the first glimpse into the king he would day be there in that village. When people wonder how the arrogant prince turned into the great king, I think of them moments in Eldor, and the ones before were he risked his life for his servant. Where he could not stand to watch his people suffer."
She was trying to show him that he was different yes, but that he was still the same man. "You shouldn't talk of your self as if you are two different people, you might seem like such to me at times but you are the same man. One just bares the marks of time and the other the weight." She reached over to touch his hand comforting, but stopped a few inches short and pulled back. Old habits were hard to break. "When I was kidnapped, it was near the beginning of our friendship. I like to think you'd have came anyway." But she knew it had been because he loved her. She KNEW he loved her. He just forgot for the moment.
"I have no where else to be, as my plans had been with you this---at the moment." She'd almost said this night, but that spoke intimacy. "No one is expecting me, I simply do not wish to cause you more upset. If I left you could be comfortable and rest. That might help you." She didn't want to leave, she was afraid to leave in a way and knew that she would not sleep as well but return to Gaius and help him find a clues. She could tell however that he was having trouble with her little slips and thought it might be for the best that she give him what he was used to.
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 18:47:51 GMT -5
She spoke so highly of him. It was, surprising. He tried to remember when she had spoken so openly to him, and he could not think of an instance. Yes, there was Ealdor when she told him that he should not take food for granted, but she had been shy enough to say that. To hear all this, now, from her . . . they really must have been close for her to be at such ease to speak to him in this manner. She was talking about something familiar to him though, and he would hang on to this. Build on the experiences they shared that he could actually remember, not all that had happened since then. This could be the foundation to discovering who he truly had become, now that he was accepting practically everything she was saying instead of doubting her words as he was when he first woke up. There was an undeniable sincerity in her voice. Despite his predicament, he found her words consoling -- even if he could not yet find solace in her touch.
He still could not accept that he was the same person she spoke of. So many things had to have occurred in between. He must have grown, learned from others, made decisions that would impact the rest of his life. "What if I'm not?" He asked when she spoke of him being the same man. "I can't remember what happened from then to now," he added, obviously aware that she already knew this, but was just voicing his concern by reiterating this harsh reality. "How can I be this man that you call great, someone who judges a man on his character rather than his title, by knighting commoners." Arthur said that last part with the slightest bit of hesitancy as it was spoken solely based on the assumption that he had been the one to do it; and it went in turn with what she had said. "I can not understand or justify any of my actions that you have told me I've done." Even if he was the same man as he was in Ealdor . . . no.
He was not. For that man would never have knighted commoners, no matter how desperately he wanted to. That one act alone, was just so drastically different from the mindset he had once been in. He did not think that they were unequal, but it just went against everything, so how could Arthur have done it? He shook his head a bit as if to emphasize his point. "I do not know who I have become, only that it is different from who I was." Once again, he was simply repeating his frustrations in not being able to recognize himself. He may as well have become a totally different person. At least one thing was reassuring: she was not yet leaving. "Rest is the furthest thing from my mind right now," he admitted to her. "If you are certain you are not needed elsewhere, then I would continue to appreciate your help." In discovering who he was.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 19:04:12 GMT -5
When he (sort of) asked her to stay she gave him a bright smile, glad that he seemed to want her here. It could be because she was the only one who knew about him at the moment but she wanted to tell her self it was because of HER and THEM and parts of him were telling him something. She could pretend if she had to but that was what she wanted to believe. "Then I will stay with you til the dawn." She promised, knowing that was right where she wanted to be.
"Maybe it will help you if I told you a bit about the knights you knighted?" She offered, wanting to give him her opinions on them should he not get his memory back and he picked up on others thoughts. "You knighted them all right before you came back to the kingdom to attempt to free your father. There are five men total, but you only knighted four of them. You told them that when they fight tomorrow they could do so knowing they were apart of the greats army the world had ever know!" He had not admitted before this moment that she was there, and she seemed unaware that she had sort of done so in this moment. Since she had said earlier that she lived under Morgana's rule.
"Sir Leon is still your right hand man, or your general I guess, since your king now. You remember L-lancelot?" She asked him, knowing he would have no idea of the emotional connections behind the name. "He came to help you win your kingdom back and he brought Percival with him. Percival is the rather large man with the rather large heart. A gentle giant who . . . . is just a happy sort. Elyan, my brother. You saved his life once, and when you were going to free your father he wanted to fight by your side to show you the same honor as you afforded him. And then there is Gwaine . . . . You have a bit more history with Gwaine. He saved your life once, and when he went to do it again, he got banished from the kingdom. I am not sure how he joined up with you in the woods, but I was not surprised he did. He has a very noble heart."
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 19:30:57 GMT -5
Ahh yes. The knights. That would certainly be helpful since he had been utterly confused when encountering them earlier today. He wanted to know why he had chosen these men to knight; how it had come to be. He had said that to them? Well, it could sound like something Arthur would say, provided the circumstances. Sir Leon he remembered, as he did Lancelot. Though Arthur had to wonder how the hell Lancelot had even found them just when it seemed they had needed him the most? Talk about a coincidence. Well those two were not the ones Arthur was overly concerned about as they were not total strangers to him. Percival. Elyan. Gwaine. From the way she described them, Arthur could easily pick out which was which. Percival was the man who Arthur had to look up at. Elyan was the one who he could have sworn was her brother -- who it was. And Gwaine was the friendly one who had hit him on the back. Now, Arthur awaited to hear their stories.
He was going to focus on each knight, one at a time. For these were not just ordinary men. They were men that Arthur had clearly grown close to, ones that he trusted, ones that had convinced him that they were greater than the laws of knighthood, for he made them nobles from commoners. It was clear that he had a strong bond with each and every one, and he wanted to explore that. He had already touched on his friendship with Guinevère, then the knights, then he would go back to trying to convince her who the woman he loved was so that he could explore that relationship. But, he started with the men who had apparently risked their lives for him, and he risked his for them. "How did I save Elyan's life?" He asked. Seeing as how that was her brother, surely this was a story worth hearing, just so he could gain some perspective.
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Post by Guinevère on Apr 11, 2011 19:42:44 GMT -5
How. Hmmm, that would have to be told omitting details since she did not want him to know about her yet. "Cenred's spy--whom would turn out to be Morgana--told him we were close. Out of everyone close to you, I was the weakest one, the one with the most to loose. So they took my brother, whom you'd never meet and held him prisoner. If I did not lead you into a trap they were going to make me watch as they killed him."
"I didn't want to tell you, but I ended up telling you about the trap and my brother and you rushed off to storm the castle Cenred had and drag him out." She left out allot of the details there, thinking the less he knew about why they picked her and the details about her ordeal then the better it would be for keeping her feelings from him. "Elyan was grateful, and I was beyond grateful. You were once again my hero." As he always was, in every way.
"I don't think you'd spent much time with him after that, but when Morgana took the thorn Elyan and Gwaine, Merlin and Gaius and you all spent a week in the woods together, while trying to find your next move, and recover from your injured leg. When Sir Leon and then Lancelot and Percival joined you--" and herself, "--you then told them you were going to rescue your father, and they each said they would help you and fight by your side."
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ♥ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·´ .·´ ¸¸.·¨¯`·.♥
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Apr 11, 2011 20:12:14 GMT -5
Well that didn't make a whole lot of sense. Why would they have taken Guinevère? Why not Morgana? Even though she was the traitor and spy -- a thought that was still highly unsettling and something he had not quite fully accepted -- she would have been a better person to 'kidnap'. He would have gone without a second thought to save her. Even Merlin, who Morgana knew that Arthur had risked his life to save before, would have been a more logical choice. Why Guinevère? Why her brother? That just seemed so random. Of all the choices of people they could have taken, they chose her? Even if -- as she stated -- she was the weakest, neither Merlin nor Morgana would have been a match for Cenred's army. How close could he and Guinevère possibly be in comparison to Morgana for instance, or even Merlin. Or even, this unidentified woman that he supposedly loved. With Guinevère knew about her, then Morgana would have too, and then she would have been the prime target.
While Arthur would never wish such harm on this woman, it was just something to consider. Something that made Guinevère's story difficult to comprehend. "I don't understand," he began to say, making his confusion known. Apart from the intense hatred he suddenly for towards Cenred for targeting innocent people, there was still more confusion above all else. "How were you the most to lose, when all they needed to do was target someone else I am closer to?" He had not meant for that to come out rude, he was just trying to explain why he could not fill the holes in her story. "Morgana or Merlin for instance. Or even, this woman that I apparently am in love with. Why did they choose you?" And not only that, they had done it all under the assumption that he would save her brother. Granted, Arthur never wished to see anyone die because of him, but out of all the people they could have chosen to target why Guinevère and Elyan?
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