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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 13:34:37 GMT -5
Guinevère kept on sewing while watching Arthur between stitches. It meant she sewed slower but it was worth it to watch him set everything up and make it perfect. He'd cleaned up the room for her, and set a table for her. Two things she was willing to bet that the king had never even thought about doing in his life time. He was so unlike his father in so many ways now. She found she was glad of it, and proud that he had managed to come such a wonderful, and caring, and brave man with out the influence of this father in some ways.
Uther was there in some of his actions and words for Guinevère would admit the former king was not completely a villain. He had his good elements, and sometimes even wise moments. Arthur seemed to know to take in those moments and build upon them and to create his own ideas and beliefs with out letting his father's closed mind destroy him.
She had just finished the shirt as a knock came at the far door. She knew (as with the other knocks) that it was not someone evil but she still had this fear in her that it could be. She felt her heart beat faster but she tried to appear calm and collected as she put away her sewing, and then walked (very slowly) with the shirt over to his table.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 14:09:59 GMT -5
The timing had been perfect for as soon as everything was set, and the candles lit, a knock came at the door. Dinner was here! He walked over -- still feeling strange in his socks, something that he was not quite sure he would ever fully get used to -- and opened it, to see both Sir Arryn and Sir Truan there. There was one large platter with most all the food, a few small plates two cups and a pitcher of wine. Arthur stepped a bit more into the hallway for a moment, not closing the door fully, but just leaving it open a crack, hopefully not enough for her to be able to see them. It seemed that both knights knew what Arthur was going to say without him having to even ask. Sir Arryn was the first to speak. "We supervised the preparations of the food Sire. And the wine is fresh." It had not been tested? Arthur truly did not envy the person who's job that was, and he did not want Guinevère to be suspicious about the drink, though he'd fully understand her reasons for being so. He wanted to make sure the drink was safe before bringing it in. So right there in the hallway, he took the pitcher, and poured a very small amount in the goblet.
He ignored the objections that he was sure to come from Arryn and Truan, and drank the liquid in one large sip. He stood there for a moment, while the two knights looked at him anxiously. There was a strong entitlement for everyone to be paranoid about poisoned drinks right now. The other poison had had an immediate effect on her, as he had been told. After a few of seconds, he felt fine and decided that the drink was safe. He gave a short nod, put the cup back on the platter, and pushed the door open so that they could bring everything in. "Just set it over there please," he told them, referring to the small table they had set up. Each knight looked at Guinevère, giving a short nod of greeting and acknowledgment as they proceeded to set the food down. "Thank you," Arthur said gratefully as he walked them to the door and closed it once they were outside. He was well aware that this was not the knight's job, but right now, they were ones whom he trusted completely, and were part of the very select few who were aware of the entire situation. He turned to look at Guinevère, a smile forming on his lips as he approached her and offered his hand out. "Dinner is served," he claimed.
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 14:23:02 GMT -5
Guinevère watched as Arthur walked out of the room and she felt a few moment's of panic even if her body did not move or show an outward reaction. When he returned with two knights in toe, with the food and wine and took a deep breath in order to calm her self. She did not move closer however until the knights had left. she was not afraid of them; but she always felt . . . .
She was not one of them. Even if her brother had join their ranks, she could tell allot of them were unsure about her, or dis-approved. She smiled at Arthur however when he said dinner was served. "Smells good." She told him as she walked over to him and held up the shirt, "And I finished it just in time." While it laced the laces at the top to tie it, the shirt part was completely done. It would hang a bit loose, like some of his shits, but she hoped that it would sloe form to his broad shoulders, and the color would make him look striking.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 15:40:04 GMT -5
Arthur smiled in admiration when she revealed the finished product of the shirt. "It looks perfect," he told her. More so because she had made it for him, and in such a limited amount of time as well. "You certainly live up to your reputation as the best seamstress." While he always knew she was quite skillful in sewing, it was different when seeing a shirt that she had made from scratch, for him. It had a special sentimental value. "I will have to save it for our next date," he said in a tone that may imply he was joking, but really . . . he meant it. Next time they spent the day together -- which probably wouldn't be spent fully in his chambers -- he would be able to look more presentable in the shirt. Clearly, Arthur was a bit vain when it came to his clothing.
Allowing his gaze to linger on the shirt, and then at her as he smiled, he took a few steps to the side, so that he was now standing behind one of the chairs, pulling it out for her. She must be hungry by now, after all she had barley eaten lunch. Which made sense considering it had been served right after she awoke and he had assumed her appetite had not been that substantial. But now, they could enjoy a quiet dinner together, just as they enjoyed a quiet and calm day together.
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 15:55:37 GMT -5
Guinevère smiled when he said he would save it for their next date, "You will have to try it on before then so I know where to make the wholes for the laces, so it will be completely ready for you then." The thought of next time however had her smiling as she walked over and sat down into the chair he was holding out for her. She waited for him to take his own seat before speaking again. Her tone was hesitant as if afraid to bring up the topic on their day hidden from the world; "Did they have news for you?" About the magician who was after his mind and her life.
She did not want to let anything ruin the dinner, but she had to ask. She knew that he would have told her, had they caught him; but she wanted to know if they had said anything about him being close or far. Either way, she would change the subject after his answer--she did not want anyone (the man or the king who sent him) to ruin their little haven here. Their joy. While the events surrounding today were far from nice--today still seemed . . . perfect!
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 16:03:57 GMT -5
When she was seated, Arthur slightly pushed in the chair so that she was more comfortable and closer to the table. He then went over to his own side as she asked her question. "Did they have news for you?" He knew exactly what she meant by this, and while he did not want to alarm her, he also wanted to be honest with her. It was after all her life that was at stake and she deserved the truth. "Not yet," he answered casually, concealing the extent of fear he felt in knowing that the sorcerer was still out there, potentially continuing to conspire against them. He was terrified that he was going to try and strike again . . . which was part of the reason he had not let Guinevère out of his sight since last night. "We have knights patrolling the city though, and searching out for him," Arthur added confident that either the sorcerer would be gone for good, or that they would catch him.
He didn't want her to worry, though he knew that both of them would only have peace of mind when he was caught and taken care of . . . however that may be. He began to pour the wine into a goblet for her -- the one that he had not drank from outside, before doing the same in his own cup. He did not want the current subject to bring down her mood, but it was a valid question. He lifted the silver lid off of the pheasant, fully revealing its appearance as the aroma filled his sense. "Now, are you ready to try something truly remarkable?" He asked, glorifying the meal in front of them, and trying to keep things light even if there was an underlying tension whenever the sorcerer was brought up. Even if it was not the last of her question pertaining to it, he would still try to make her worry as little as possible.
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 16:30:03 GMT -5
He was not safe yet. They. They were not safe yet. She knew that the man could not elude them forever, she only hoped that it was soon before he was caught and brought to justice. She didn't want to ask what Arthur would do to him, part of her did not want to know. There was only a few things he could do, and none of them would be pleasant. For anyone.
She wanted to change the topic to something nicer and paused in thinking how to do it. As he passed over the wine, she didn't touch it; just watched it for a moment, before looking away. She was weary of the drink for two reasons. One was because the last time she'd drank something she had almost died; and the other was because she was not used to wine so casually for dinner. She drank water. She did not wish to loose her head to the drink because she was not used to drinking it.
"Now, are you ready to try something truly remarkable?" she looked up from the wine glass to him with a slow spreading but bright smile. "Yes," She replied thinking it smelled wonderful. She could only imagine how it would taste. "Is this one of your favorites?"
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 16:42:53 GMT -5
He noticed the way her eyes averted the drink, and knew that the reason -- at least part of it -- was because she was wary of drinking something. Which is why he had tested it himself and he was still fine. "It's safe to drink," he assured her, just in case that was the primary reason she did not want to touch it. The food had been easier to determine the safety of, especially if supervised. But the wine . . . well, the best way to test its safety was by drinking it, even if they did say it was fresh. It seemed that there were so many traitors amongst them; people who had been perceived as trust worthy; friends; family. The worst would always be Morgana's betrayal, for that was something that Arthur doubted he would ever move past; and he knew the same had to be said for Guinevère, as the two had been close. And then, to be betrayed by another servant . . . Arthur wished there was a way to know for sure who could not be trusted.
But, he would not dwell on such things right now. It was not the time to enter such a dark conversation. "It is," he answered as he began cutting portions of it and putting it on her plate for her. "When I was young, and still new at hunting, my father would encourage me to hunt pheasants. For they are difficult prey to catch." It had been good to start with the most difficult creatures, and then slowly work his way down to the slower and large ones. "There was just something very satisfying about catching them, and then seeing them on a platter, ready to be eaten." He knew it was a small thing, one that his father never really congratulated him on. But, Arthur had been proud of himself in catching them, for it had been how he started in being more skilled in the sport of hunting.
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 17:26:54 GMT -5
Guinevère didn't question nor comment when he said anything about her glass. She believed him, but the feeling was an irrational one, and she knew it. She was still afraid. Part of her wished he would not drink it either, but she knew that sooner or later she would have to sallow her fear and sallow the wine. "When I was young . . . Arthur began telling her of why he liked the bird and she found her mind drifting to better things. He liked challenges, and it did him well in his lifetime.
"Then I am sure to love it as well." She told him before reaching up to take a little bit and put it in her mouth. The feeling of almost choking was there, but the taste was wonderful. The choking feeling came from the fear and memory of being poisoned. However after the first bit, and nothing happening she felt that feeling ease and the taste fill her. "Oh my gosh," she said with a surprised smile, "This is wonderful!"
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 17:37:38 GMT -5
He waited for her to take the first bite, curios to see her reaction to it. It was as he had predicted: she seemed to fully enjoy the taste. He grinned, as he began to cut into the pheasant for his own plate. "I knew you'd like it," he stated. How could someone not like the taste of pheasant? It was just so delicious. But then again, Arthur did love his food and growing up as royalty, had high standards. He remembered back in Ealdor how he had really disliked the food Hunith had made him. Until Guinevère pointed out how arrogant he was being about it . . . how he should appreciate it for it was scarce. It had been the first time she had spoken out against him, teaching him to be gracious. In a way, he cherished that memory, for it had been the first time she had stepped out from the background. The first time he noticed her as more than Morgana's handmaiden. The beginning of their relationship.
Once he had some food in his plate, he reached for his wine taking a sip. He hoped that with this gesture, of seeing him drink it, she would feel more comfortable in drinking it herself. For she would know that there was nothing in it. He didn't even feel the slightest affect of anything, and he knew they would not have used a slow acting poison. "Maybe if you teach me to sew, I will teach you how to hunt pheasant," he said, completely joking. It was just as unlikely for him to sew, as it was for her to scour the woods searching for pheasant. He did not underestimate her skills, he just knew that they both had different strengths. She had already proven how resourceful she was; starting a fire for camp, helping Leon escape, just to name a few instances.
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 18:36:18 GMT -5
She took another bite, this time savoring every little bite! It was rather good. Guinevère noticed as well that he took a drink of his wine and she found her self watching him closely, ready to run and get help at a moment's notice. However he was just fine, so she found her self relaxing so she could enjoy her food. It was wonderful! She would take bites and just savor it for a while.
"Maybe if you teach me to sew, I will teach you how to hunt pheasant," Guinevère laughed then, and covered her mouth to help her sallow before she could look at him with mirth in her eyes. "I think that your sewing skills would be too much like your cooking skills." She teased him, "And I don't have time to teach Merlin to sew." A tease on how Merlin had fixed their supper that night and not Arthur.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 20:08:47 GMT -5
Arthur smiled a bit innocently upon both comments she said to him. At the time he knew she'd been upset about it but it seemed they had passed that entire ordeal, and it only led to something better. Now, he was not going to pretend like he was a good cook; nor pretend that he did something when Merlin in fact did it. He knew better than that, and really . . . she knew him better than that. She knew him all too well in fact so there wasn't a great deal he could get away with. Not that he wanted to. He loved her and she loved him because she knew him, the real him. Hadn't he said that to her once, that with her he could be himself. So why pretend to be something he was not? "I wouldn't trust Merlin with a pair of scissors," Arthur said, teasing his friend. He was more and more using the term friend to describe Merlin rather than servant.
For in dark times, Merlin was always there with his own shocking words of wisdom. It only showed how much Arthur had matured because of both his friendship with Merlin, and his relationship with Guinevère. He knew without them, he'd be utterly lost. But what was the fun in having a brother if not to tease him. "I wouldn't even trust him with a needle," Arthur continued, deciding he may as well go further with it. He remembered the first day on the job, Merlin had complained about never having used a sword . . . and now, he could certainly hold his own with it. But a needle, scissors, sewing; that was an entirely different story. "I foresee a calamity striking," Arthur added, being melodramatic about the notion of Merlin sewing.
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 20:39:44 GMT -5
Guinevère found her self laughing at his jokes on Merlin even as she knew they were so untrue! "Merlin grew up on a farm," She defended him while still chuckling over the joke, "He might already know some basic stitchings! When you grow up so far from any towns, you learn how to do things you have too." Poor Merlin, Arthur always thought he couldn't do anything.
She knew he trusted Merlin, but he also made allot of jokes--in good nature. Like when they went to rescue her brother, he asked her to look after Merlin and it turned out she was the one who needed looking after. When they had visited Merlin's home, Arthur had joked about Merlin there too, "Leave poor Merlin alone." She teased, "Did you know i used to wish Sir Leon -would- beat you, when you bullied Merlin. Before I learned that was just . . . . how you two were together." Back when she had a crush on Merlin. "Then Sir Leon really did almost beat you and look where it got me!"
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 22:38:01 GMT -5
He was not surprised to hear her defend Merlin. While she no longer grew offended by his mocking of him, she did not join in the teasing. Which was well and fine. Guinevère was not the type of person to even jokingly talk behind someone's back. Of course Arthur was not saying anything right now that he would not -- or had not -- already said to Merlin's face. If anything, he was being nicer than usual, for when Merlin was in his presence, Arthur tended to be ruder. "Somehow I can't quite see Merlin sitting by a fire and sewing," Arthur said, suppressing his laughter. It was a strange image, though he already knew his friend to be a bit girly. An image entered his mind of Merlin sneaking around the castle with a dress . . . did that happen?!
Arthur certainly hoped so otherwise he would be highly disturbed that he was picturing such thing in his mind. He then made a face when she revealed to him that she hoped Sir Leon would beat him. He didn't like the sound of that at all! "You wanted someone else to beat me?" He asked in exaggerated shock, as if he was so very offended. He wasn't, for he understood why. Clearly, they had moved past such things. He knew she did not approve of things he had done in the past, which was why he knew she changed him for the better. "Now that's just not fair," he said in a slight whine, only continuing with his farce of being truly hurt by her actions.
But she had a point; had Leon not let him win, then Arthur would not have had that plan, and then he would not have stayed with Guinevère . . . where he had fallen in love with her. "I suppose I should thank him for that then. Who would have thought so much would come of it," he stated with a smile. Would come of Leon lifting his lance to avoid from hurting the prince -- and now king -- of Camelot. There were so many what ifs and what could have beens. Would they have fallen in love another way? Arthur wanted to believe so, for the alternative of never having given her his heart was far too devastating a thought.
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 23:02:51 GMT -5
"You wanted someone else to beat me?" Guinevère laughed at his words and smiled up at him, as he keep speaking, "Now that's just not fair! I suppose I should thank him for that then. Who would have thought so much would come of it," Not her. "I remember Merlin trying to talk me into letting you stay at my home. I said no a few times before he got an yes out of me." She admitted to him, remembering Merlin guilting her into doing it. He had brought her flowers and guilt that night!
"I am rather grateful for Sir Leon. He got my my job, his family and mine are close, and he brought me you in a way." Yes, sir Leon was a very important role in her life with out him even being in there greatly; "Even so, I used to wish he would beat you. You would bully Merlin and I would think sir Leon would beat you one day and teach you a lesson. . . . . I guess in some way, all that really did happen, only you still bully Merlin!" Still, at least now she knew it was just them being boys, rather then disrespect to the other.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 29, 2011 23:26:17 GMT -5
He could imagine that would have been an awkward conversation. When Arthur had gone to Guinevère's hope, he remembered being appalled at the side, shocked that Merlin expected him to stay there. Until he said that Guinevère could be trusted . . . that was when Arthur understood. He had found her home too small, but eventually he grew to see it as a good thing. It was small but quaint; tiny but homey. He had missed it when he left; the simplicity of it all. And more importantly, her. Now, they were in his chambers . . . which was much larger than her entire house, yet they had managed to find great ease in it. "He kept assuring me we could trust you. Even if I did not know you well at the time, I knew his words were true." There had been times before that where he had known he could trust her, such as when he had sneaked out of jail, and his chambers, and even when she had saved his life from the strange . . . gargoyle creatures. His memory was coming back rather nicely. On the subject of Leon, Arthur shared that mutual feeling of gratitude. Not only because he had indirectly brought them together, but for so many reasons.
He knew Leon for his entire life and there was a reason that that particular knight out of them all was second in command. He displayed exemplary skill; honor; loyalty; and every other trait associated with a knight. "Sir Leon is a good man," Arthur said, knowing that was an understatement. The seriousness of the moment was broken when she spoke of how he had bullied Merlin and for subtle revenge, wished Leon would beat him. "A difficult lesson to learn indeed; that either way, I will torment Merlin," Arthur said a bit too proudly. "And that next time you should cheer for the man you know is a sure win." He was of course just fooling around in the amount of arrogance he was displaying. While he was confident in his skills -- such as when he fought his men blind folded -- he knew better than to maximize it to the point of arrogance. It was after one of the traits she had first criticized him for. He knew better than to revert to those ways -- he had even gotten slapped for it a couple of days ago!
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Post by Guinevère on May 29, 2011 23:48:07 GMT -5
Guinevère took another bit of her food, noticing that she had almost eaten the whole thing. She found it surprising that she could eat quite that much quite that much; that quickly. She knew she had been hungry but she was rather surprised that she'd been that hungry! She still had not taken a drink of the wine; but after seeing how much she ate she found her self really thirsty.
"And that next time you should cheer for the man you know is a sure win." She smiled up at him, "I always do now." She promised, "Though until just recently, I could never do it allowed." She had to hide how much she loved him then, "I would sit in the crowd with Alex or Merlin, or my brother and pretend to cheer for everyone but ever since the joust . . . all those years ago . . . there has never been another my heart was cheered for." Because she loved him, and wanted him to win. "Next tournament, or joust; I will be bold. I will cheer for my king, with out fear of someone seeing my heart in my eyes."
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 0:00:01 GMT -5
Arthur listened carefully to her words. They caused him to smile, and as always, he felt honored upon hearing and as always, was unable to fully express what was in his own heart with the same choice words as she used. There were just so many emotions that it was difficult to phrase them into words. "During the joust, and every tournament or competition that followed, my eyes would search the crowd for you. Hoping to catch just one glimpse of you. For that is all the support I require." The silent support he felt just by seeing her there in the crowd. He remembered seeing her face, often excited -- as everyone tended to be during such matches -- and instantly felt that encouragement, even without her words. Seeing her there was his motivation; for he wanted her to be proud of him. Even if she said he'd proven it in other ways, he still wanted to be the man she was proud to love.
"I am honored to be that man that you cheer for." The man that she loved. "And will always proudly wear your favor whenever you so grant me with such a privilege." He had mentioned it earlier that he had been given both Morgana and Guinevère's favor during the tournament that took place every ten years . . . and he had worn hers, even before finding out Morgana's true nature. For Guinevère held a place in his heart, and he wanted to carry what she had given him with pride. He may not have won that particular tournament but he felt encouraged simply by wearing the piece of cloth around his upper arm, for and all it represented.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 0:09:52 GMT -5
"I am honored to be that man that you cheer for." The man that she loved; with all her heart and soul. "And will always proudly wear your favor whenever you so grant me with such a privilege." She smiled at his words of favors. She remembered him earlier picking up the dirty one with two fingers and her smile slipped slightly, but was still there. "I used to try to sit in about the same place every time, so when you looked into the crowd you'd know where ti find me. I would be smiling for hours after one of your wins, and would wish I could run to you like the others did to embrace you when you won." The others being nobles.
"As for favors, it appears I will have to make sure to always give you one. Perhaps I will find some red cloth to make them out of, you everyone will see it brightly upon your armor." Because they were not hiding any more, and because red was his color. Blue looked best with his eyes, and black would bring out his coloring but red . . . be was born to wear red. He knew it, everyone knew it. The KING! should always wear his colors anyhow.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 0:23:41 GMT -5
"I noticed that," he told her smiling, knowing it saved him time for he could just look at her rather than scanning the crowd for her. He had realized that for his head would always turn in the general direction that she often sat in; that he was accustomed to seeing her in. Before he had fallen in love with, she had blended with the background. But now, he could easily pick her out from a crowd. He would never understand how he had missed so much about her throughout her years serving her previous mistress. It seemed that all he needed was to be yelled at in order for him to take notice of her in a more, personal way. "You will soon be able to sit in the front center." In what used to be Morgana's seat, and then when she was Queen, she would sit above everyone else. He knew full well that was a bit unsettling to her.
But once her status was formally established, it would be where she was expected to be. Where he could easily find her and hold out his lance so that she may publicly tie her favor around it. Instead of them having to meet before the joust in secret. For now, he would not push it. With everything changing perhaps it was too soon for her to take that now vacant seat. But their relationship would slowly be becoming public knowledge rather than a forbidden secret. It was something he looked forward to, for it would give them a new found liberty that neither of them had before. Even now, they were able to just lounge in his chambers, and others knew exactly where they were . . . and that they were together.
"I would love that," he told her truthfully at her suggestion of a new favor. Anything from her he cherished. "I still hold the first favor you had given me. And the ribbon from your hair you had once given me." When he had been riding out to bring an end to the dragon's wrath. Yes. Arthur had been remembering just about everything . . . finally. Both things just held so much sentimental value; everything she gave him did, but those two things in particular. "I carry them wherever I go." On any journey where he knew he would miss her terribly. Or riding out for any battle where he knew it would give him that support and hope. Or more simply, when entering a tournament of any kind.
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