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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 0:37:08 GMT -5
"You will soon be able to sit in the front center." That thought unsettled her, but she knew that it was something that she'd have to embrace in order to be his wife. She hoped she would feel comfortable one day there. Still, she got excited when they jousted or fought; and she would often end up holding the hand of whom ever was next to her. If she was front and center no one would be beside her. It seemed . . . lonely.
"I would love that, I still hold the first favor you had given me. And the ribbon from your hair you had once given me." The hair ribbon?! He carried that around with him!? She had seen the favor before, but not the ribbon! Her eyes moved over the room, back toward the bed where the other favor had been before looking back at him. She had not seen it since she gave it to him. "I carry them wherever I go."
"Really?" She asked in a flattered and surprised tone, "I knew you carried the favor around but I had not thought you'd kept the ribbon." Her felt her face blush and she looked down for a moment before looking back up. She wanted to say something but she wasn't sure what to say after his comment.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 0:57:07 GMT -5
She was clearly surprised by that. But she had no reason to be. He loved her. He wanted to keep every token of her affection that he could. It was why the shirt meant more to him than just something he throw over his head and through his arms. He saw her eyes search his room looking for . . the ribbon? It had to be the ribbon. She had seen the favor before -- as the guilt over having just tossed it on the side as if it were a rag resurfaced in him. It was a good thing he had not actually thrown it out, otherwise he would have strongly regretted it. "Of course," he said casually. "Both things are very precious to me." While one had been given under intense circumstances, it still meant something to him. For when he rode out onto the field, he was carrying a part of her with him, and had he died then, he would have died with that piece of her with him, which would have instantly granted him solace.
"They are tokens from you. Ones that I cherish." He used to keep Morgana's favors as well . . . but he never carried them for longer than the actual tournament. As was the case with any other woman's favors he had worn during a tournament. Guinevère's was the only one he took with him whenever he journeyed anywhere. They were worn, but that only added to the sentiment of them. Whether others could see it or not, he had them with, in a safe place, out of sight so that they would not be mistaken for rags or something that should go in the garbage. While Merlin was often the one to clean his room, he still would not take any risks of having them discarded. So he kept them in his bedside table drawer.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 1:10:44 GMT -5
"They are tokens from you. Ones that I cherish." She smiled when he said that and took the last bite of her meal. She thought for a moment about where they could be before looking back up at him. She wasn't going to ask, for it felt like she would be demanding proof. She believed him, and she did not want him doubting in her. "You left a shirt at my home when you stayed there. You had asked me to mend it, as it was ripped."
It had been a whiteish shirt, and after she'd mended it he had already gone back to the castle. He had never asked for it back, so she had never given it back. "I kept telling my self that I would return it one day. That it belonged to you, and I should. Then one night I was tried, and went to bed in stead of doing the wash--" It was hard to do the wash for your self after doing everyone's all day, sometimes. "--so the next night after getting home late and then remembering I had nothing clean to wear to bed . . . . "
Her face blushed and she looked down, biting her lip. "I w-wore it to sleep." And only that. The memory made her face blush harder. "I don't wear it often, but sometimes I still do to bed." Less and less now; Merlin had made a habit of breaking into her home at night . . . and he wasn't the only one . . .
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 1:22:26 GMT -5
As Arthur finished the last of his food he picked up the cup of wine to help wash everything down as he listened to her begin to talk about a shirt. His shirt? Hearing her admittance of wearing it and then seeing that blush consume her cheeks, only made him chuckle at her revelation. He of course did mind hearing that she wore his shirt. It was a, pleasurable image . . . to imagine the woman he loved clad in his shirt . . . only his shirt. Especially hearing when she wore it to bed. A smile remained on his lips once his small fit of chuckles had passed. "I'm sure you look better in it than I do," he said, and while he was teasing her, he meant his words. How could he pass the opportunity to add a little more blush to her cheeks? He thought it was adorable enough when she did it from her own words . . . he liked seeing that he could make her blush as well.
"Besides, if I remember correctly, it is not the first time you have worn my shirt." He was referring to when they had made love for the first time. Every sensation and memory of the experience had re-entered his mind, and he happened to recall a moment where his shirt was draped over her for warmth and comfort. Having such memories made him wonder how he had managed to last an entire night without them. He had felt lost and confused, but realizing all that he had missed just made him wonder how he could have possibly coped . . . no. He couldn't have. There would be no way to cope with having no recollection of the woman you loved, of intimacy he shared with her. Besides, he would never have this opportunity right now to be able to tease her and talk about such things that her modesty made her slightly reluctant to admit.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 1:32:52 GMT -5
"Besides, if I remember correctly, it is not the first time you have worn my shirt." her whole face blushed, and she looked down with an soft laugh. She was growing used to complements, but even now she self seemed surprised--or pleased to hear them. His words of remind about their first time had brought the bigger blush to her however.
Finally looking up at him she did her best to maintain eye contact. Had it been anyone else she would not have been able to do so. "I see you are remembering more and more." She told him before looking down at her empty plate; "Perhaps tonight I will try on another." She reached for the wine finally, taking a few much needed sips before putting it down and pausing to stare at it. She'd drank the wine! She sat there for half a moment and when nothing happened she reached for it again. She had known it was safe all night, but knowing and knowing! were different.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 1:44:53 GMT -5
"Perhaps tonight I will try on another." He just smiled. While he knew they had discussed their . . . plans for the night, he still would not hold high expectations, just in case she was too tired or not feeling strong enough. She seemed alright at the moment, but she wasn't doing anything too . . . active. What they were discussing may change that and the last thing he wanted was to be further reason that she was weakened even in that way. Then again, he was not going to totally discourage the idea. He himself wasn't quite that strong to be able to do it. Perhaps they would just see where the night took them. What he did know was that her reaction was perfect. The way she softly laughed, and blushed more -- if that was even possible at this point -- and then even reached for the wine. His comment had driven her to the wine? He just smiled, knowing that it meant she was growing more comfortable with drinking, and perhaps her mind was slowly wandering away from that fear of what happened last time she drank.
It maybe just distracted for the moment was more like it. She took one small sip and realizing that the effect of it innocent, she took another. "I am remembering the very important things," he said a tad bit suggestively, since this entire conversation was, well . . . it was all quite suggestive on a very certain subject. "You are more than welcome to any of the clothing in my wardrobe," he offered, knowing that she would be the only person he would ever make such an offer to. "But if you borrow my new shirt," -- The one she made for him -- "Then I would have to ask you not take it home," he said teasingly. "Then again, my clothing may not be needed." If they were entertaining the idea, and just speaking about it so casually, why not continue? Besides, how often did they get the chance to speak of such intimacy in such a, playful manner? Never. It just further showed how rare of a day this way . . . and how much he was enjoying it.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 1:55:14 GMT -5
Guinevère watched his as he spoke, but soon her cheeks felt as if they were on fire from the blushing and she had to look down. "Then again, my clothing may not be needed." Looking up at him she tried to guess what he meant by that. She could imagine three very driffernt yet very initmate places that comment could be suggesting. Either not needed here in his room, not needed at her home while they were together (as he had just asked her not to take it home); or not needed while she was alone and at home.
"Poor Merlin would wonder were all your shirts went if I took them home." Besdies, one day this would be home, wouldn't it? She wondered how it would feel to have a place such as this as a home. It felt . . . oodd to think of this as home yet, in a way it had always been part of her home. "Perhaps I will just let you take them all back from." She told him, with aout looking up until after the words were said.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 2:04:53 GMT -5
Yes; Merlin probably would indeed wonder that. But it didn't matter to Arthur. He'd probably just be grateful he had less laundry to do. Besides, thinking along her same trail of thought, one day they would be sharing a room and the space would be divided. Where she could keep her things and he is and their home would be together, rather than her having to leave the castle to return to her home in the city. "Keep the one you have," he told her, finding it rather sweet that she wore it on some nights. Of course it was different for a woman to wear a man's shirt than a man wearing a woman's dress . . . obviously. When a woman did it, it was sentimental; it showed that she wanted to be close to man, in whatever way that may be. When a man wore a woman's dress . . . well, Arthur didn't want to go there. All he knew was that if she felt comfortable wearing it, if she had grown accustomed to it then he did not wish to deprive her.
One day, it would not have to be a question of giving it back or keeping it. It would be far more casual when they were living in the same quarters. "I stand by my words in saying it would suit you far more than it suits me," he said, paraphrasing his earlier words a little bit. He took one last sip of his wine, deciding not to have more. Just in case something happened tonight --- whether it be an intimate night, or if there was news about the sorcerer -- Arthur did not want to over do it on the wine. He could not remember the last time he had gotten drunk. Oh wait. Yes he could; it was with Gwaine. "Did you need your medicine?" He asked, knowing it as was a bit of an abrupt change in subject but he was asking to see how she was doing. To see if she was still feeling weak or if she was in full health once again. The answer may determine how the two would spend the next few hours. But of course, there was no rush . . . they had the whole night ahead of them.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 2:22:13 GMT -5
She nodded her head when he told her to keep the one she had. She planned too. After finally getting used to sleeping it in (because the first few times she felt scandalous!) she was not giving it up. "Did you need your medicine?" He asked her and for a moment she slightly confused as to why he asked that. Looking up at him for a moment her brows bent and the blush faded from her cheeks since the topic had moved to something new.
She opened her lips to speak but paused as the deeper meaning behind his words set in. Her cheeks blushed pink again, and her eyes twinkled with delight and interests at his question. "No." She said, dragging the word out softly. She moved her napkin to the table, from her lap; as a way of suggesting she was done with her meal. "I feel rather rested after a whole day of doing nothing." She told him, giving more details to his subtle question.
She stood up slowly and walked around the small table, her fingers trailing along the table. When she got to his side, her fingers moved to where his hand was on the table, palm down. The rested on his for a moment before she turned her hand palm up and slid it under his.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 2:38:16 GMT -5
When she assured him that she did not need her medicine, he was relieved. First and foremost because it meant that she was recovering, if not already fulled recovered. Of course, he did not miss the fact that she had given additional details, as if to totally assure him that she had her strength. That she was well rested. That she was . . . finished her meal? His eyes locked on her as she slowly walked around the table, towards him. He felt as if he was almost in a trance just gazing at her, knowing a part of it had been because of what had been building up for most of the day; what they had just been discussing. In all their insinuations of shirts, clothing, and every other suggestive implication . . . well, it was building to something. He kept his eyes on her when he felt her take his hand. Without breaking the gaze, he brought her hand up to his lips and just kept it there, in a lingering embrace. As if to express his relief over everything turning out alright. Over her being alive; over his memory returning so that he could kiss her like this.
But no. This was not how he wanted to kiss her. Unable to resist the urge, yet wanting the fully absorb the moment by not rushing it, he smoothly rose to his feet, standing in front of her. He slowly leaned in, pausing when their faces were only a couple of inches apart. He remained there for a few moments, his eyes barley open, before he closed the distance between, fully closing his eyes and allowing his lips to rest against hers comfortably. It was a soft kiss, as he was still yet afraid of how much shortness of breath she would have because of it. It was almost as if he was testing the waters, seeing how far they would be able to go, yet not pressuring it to surpass to something she was unsure of. With that thought in his mind, he pulled away opening his eyes to show the longing and affectionate gaze he could give only her. A small smile formed on his lips, just continuing to look at her; knowing that words were not immediately needed to break the silence, but rather just allow the quiet air linger for a few seconds.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 2:46:23 GMT -5
Guinevère's breathing did indeed deepening but not from any illness. First the way he looked at her made her heart beat faster; and when he kissed her hand she felt the butterflies in her belly. When he stood she felt her self already pressing on her toes, ready to go up on them so it would be easier for him to kiss her. He paused for a moment before kissing her and the anticipation alone near made her go mad. Finally he kissed her!
She moved her arms up around his neck, and when he pulled back did not let him go far. Stepping slightly closer so they were touching she smiled up at him. This was what today had been building to. Not the rush of emotions that lead them somewhere, but the casual day spent talking and enjoying life with a natural conclusion. This was something she'd never forget. For it was their real first time. "I love you." She whispered, before letting her hands trail over his shoulders and her lips touch the cut of his jaw that she loved so much.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 9:36:31 GMT -5
"I love you." When she spoke these words and her lips then rested against his jawline, Arthur closed his eyes, enjoying the words, enjoying her touch. Adoring everything about this moment: how they had gotten here, where it was going, and the steady pace of it all. This time, they could fully absorb everything; they did not have to rush, he did not have to leave off to battle in the morning . . . it was just them. He kept his head titled downwards, his lips brushing against her lower cheek before remaining near her ear. "I love you too," he whispered. These were not words that could ever lessen in meaning, nor could they be ones he said too often. For three years they'd had to hide their feelings for one another, but each day she took more and more of his heart, until she held the entire thing.
He put his hands on her waist, just remaining in place. He was not over thinking what to do next, he was just allowing this closeness to sink in, to fully appreciate it, to fully lose himself in it. He brought his head back a bit, though not to quite look at her. Instead, he lightly kissed her forehead, before allowing that touch to linger to her temple, and then brought his light kiss further down to her cheek. Where he then just leaned forward a bit more, turning his head slightly to the side, so that his own cheek was resting against hers, enjoying the sensation of her soft skin against his. And knowing that this was just the beginning.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 13:55:59 GMT -5
Guinevère felt his lips on hers and his whisper in her ear; and as a result a soft shiver ran up her spine. Her fingers curled into his shirt where she held on at his shoulders for support. While her had not lied that she was indeed fine, his kisses always left her feeling slightly breathless and her knees weak. The thrill of being in his arms because they wanted this rather then some emotional event was so strong!
She closed her eye as he kissed over her face and found her self smiling brightly. He was not in a hurry. Unlike the other times where emotional need pushed them, this time there was nothing between them. It was just Arthur and Guinevère. Together. Moving her hands to take his she stepped back and lead them to slowly across the room.
To his bed, a place she had slept but never had been with him in. Tonight would be the first.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 14:23:38 GMT -5
When she took a step back, he opened his eyes to look at her, to see if she was feeling alright. But seeing the way she took his hands and lead him somewhere . . . he knew she was fine. He also knew where they were going, and felt that anticipation that he'd experienced earlier today over the thought of tonight, continue to build and build. He silently followed her lead, still not wanting to rush tonight for, well for so many reasons. Because they did not need to. Because he wanted to make these moments tender and drawn out rather than hurried because they knew they only had a limited time. The idea of her being not up for it was slowly moving further back into his mind, but he would still treat her delicately, even when she was in perfect health.
So many things about today was different . . . one to add to the list was that for the first time they would be on his bed. The most expected place for such intimate acts to take place, yet not the first or second or even third where it had. It would just add to that comfort, assuring them that there was nothing more dramatic that was a catalyst for this. They would be together for one simple reason: they loved each other. When they reached the bed, he waited for her to sit at the edge of it but he did not do the same right away. Instead, he knelt in front of her, keeping both of her hands in his as he rested them on her lap. He did not say anything while he knelt, even though he wanted to say so much. It was more of a silent proposal; a wordless proclamation. That she was the one who owned his heart. That every pain she had suffered, was his. That every joy she had, was shared. That he would easily give himself to her, as he had the moment he'd realized he loved her. That he was fully hers. And that she was everything to him.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 14:44:09 GMT -5
She watched him as they walked over hand and hand to his bed. She had spent many nights there, most of them in his arms. They would hold each other and kiss but never go future then they had. Tonight would be the first night she would spent in his bed as his wife. If only in her heart for now.
When she sat on the edge he knelt down before her and she stared in to the blue of his eyes that she loved so much. She waited for a moment to see what he would do before she reached her hand up to slowly start unlacing her corset vest . . . . .
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 15:06:53 GMT -5
When her hand slipped from under his he watched her to see what she would do. His eyes focused on the placement of her hand as it began to unlace the corset she had worn -- the one that he had tied during another intimate moment earlier today. He put his hand up as if to stop her. Not because he did not want this . . . but because he wanted to take that pleasure in slowly untying each lace, and prolonging those moments to do this. To show that his actions were not a rejection or opposition of any kind, he leaned forward and raised himself a bit so that he could kiss her. This time, he was not doing it to test her capability to see if it would lead to something more. He knew now that it would, and this kiss would demonstrate that. He continued to lean forward, gently pushing her back while his hands moved under her legs to bring them up on the bed so that she could properly lie on it.
Simultaneously, he shifted his position a bit while delicately moving hers, until her back was fully on the bed, her head on the pillows and him more or less, on top of her as he continued to kiss her soft lips in one long embrace, the passion slowly building in it. It was not one that contained a strong urgency in it where as their previous times, it had held that intense desperation, afraid that they would never have that moment again. But this time, it was filled with only sheer desire and ardor.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 16:12:42 GMT -5
Guinevère felt his hands stop her's and then unlace her corset. She reached up to touch his cheek and move his hair from his face while she watched the passion in his face. This was something she never wanted to forget; Arthur in passion. When he moved her to lie back, his hand on her leg she reached down to pull her dress up, so it was his bar hand on her bar leg.
Then her own hands went to move his shirt up and over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side. They came to rest on his shoulders before running down his chest, making little inviting circles and when the pleasure got to great her nails made little half moons on his back. Moving her hands lower she pulled the laces of his trousers folding them open , before pushing them down as far as she could get them. "Please," she whispered, needing to feeling him against her fully. Needing him to make her feel like his wife in all ways. It woudl be hours before either of them grew satisfied enough for sleep.
Hours later the darkness of full night had filled his large room, but the fire from the fireplace kept the room warm and comfortable. Guinevère was sleeping with her head in the corner of his shoulder and neck, pressed against his side with one of her legs drawn up to rest on his thigh. Her breathing was deeper then normal thanks to both their recent hours of activity and her other recent illness.
The covers rested low over them, but as planned she was wearing his shirt. The dark yet bright blue that had made his own blue eyes explode seemed to fit over her skin as well. The brightness of it giving her own coloring a softer effect. Guinevère was dreaming the best of dreams, while I'm the best place in the world; his arms.
At least until the servants entrance nearly exploded opened and the noise alerted everyone . . . . . .
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 16:28:11 GMT -5
Arthur was in a restful sleep, much better than the one he had the previous night. Instead of being afraid of her, scared of losing her, he had his arm around her securely as she slept close to him. He did not have dreams about past events, for he knew that he'd remembered nearly everything that happened in the past three years. Small glimpses of recognition were no longer needed, for he recalled it all. It was a wonderful feeling to be able to find the last few years again; the years where his entire life had changed. It was why he could sleep so peacefully tonight. After their intimate activities, and with the relaxing day that had led up to it. . . everything seemed wonderful. He could just drift into a slumber where nothing seemed wrong; where he wasn't afraid to open his eyes.
But this did not last. In one sudden motion, Arthur's eyes abruptly opened and he quickly sat up knowing that if the noise hadn't awoken Guinevère then his sudden movement would have. He looked to where the sound had come from, and saw a man standing there. Fitting the description they had gathered, he instantly knew it was the sorcerer. Arthur did not have time to think; he saw the sorcerer approaching them. Quickly, he reached over to his beside drawer and opened it, revealing a dagger that had been a present from Kazira on his coronation day. Today, it would come to good use. He barley needed to take more than second to focus his aim and threw it right at the sorcerer, not to kill him, but rather, pin him against the wall. It worked, but it would not be too difficult to tear away from, which is why Arthur knew he had to move quickly. Where were his pants?!?
He hurriedly grabbed them and pulled them on, practically leaping over the bed to grab his sword too. He swiftly pulled it from its sheath, holding it out defensively in front of him, as he approached the sorcerer. And just in time too for as he began to move towards him, the sorcerer had just broken free from the dagger which had pinned the sleeve of his shirt to the wall.
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Post by Guinevère on May 30, 2011 20:45:22 GMT -5
Guinevère sat up in bet, or more like got thrown up as Arthur jumped up. She saw him grab the dagger and sent it flying at the intruder! When he pulled on his pants and grabbed his sword she felt pure panic! What was going on?! Why had they suddenly grew too bold?! The man ripped his arm out of the dagger and she gave a slight scream, "Arthur!" As if he might not already know the man was free!
Pulling the covers up she sat up on her knees, and watched in fear as the the magician used his powers to throw Arthur to the side; "NNNOOOO!!!" She screamed just as the door burst open from the other side. Truan, Arryn and Kolby ran in and drew their blades. "I told you I heard something!" Truan though out at Kolby, who raised his cross bow; "She screamed his name! How was I to know what was going on in here!?" Kolby fired but it only hit the man's arm! Guinevère watched in horror as the knights got though back as well! When the magician turned to her and started hurrying toward her she jumped back, but became tangled int he covers she was trying to keep around her and feel back, before flipping off the bed. Unhurt but shocked she pushed her self up to a sitting position and crawled backwards too afraid to turn her gaze away from the man.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on May 30, 2011 21:07:46 GMT -5
Arthur barley got close to the man before he used his magic to throw him back against the wall. Hitting it hard, he collapsed to the ground, only half conscious. How many times had he hit his head today? He had hit it on the wall once, walked into it another time, and now this . . . . . . how did he not have brain damage?! He lay on the ground, blinking his eyes open, everything around him far too blurry to see clear images. What he did notice and hear in the distant background -- even though it was right close to him -- was the three knights rush into the room. He heard Truan and Kolby say something but he was too disorientated to understand their words. Arthur let out a quiet groan, as he tried to raise his head. It felt so heavy but his eyes still searched around for the sorcerer.
He was standing right near Guinevère. Arthur instantly scrambled to his feet, barley able to keep balanced so ended up walking in a bit of a zig zag. He saw the sorcerer hold out his hand, clearly ready to cast a spell on Guinevère. Arthur had gotten up so quickly, with his sword flying to the other side of the room when he had been thrown against the wall, that he was currently weaponless. Wait . . . was that an arrow in his arm?! . . . . . Good one Kolby. But Arthur used it to his advantage. He came at the man from behind, putting one arm around his neck and the other was grabbing the arrow to impair his movement and inflict enough pain so that he could not complete whatever spell he was trying to do. With this grasp, he pulled him back -- away from her -- and threw him to the ground. While he knew he should keep his gaze on this enemy, there were three other knights who could do that. Arthur looked at Guinevère first, making sure she was alright.
He rushed towards her, crouching in front of her for only an instant so that he could pull her to her feet. He did not miss the fact that she was dressed in only his shirt, and Arthur did not like that there were four other men in this room to see her in such a state of undress. When he realized he could not keep his back to their enemy for too long, he quickly turned around, standing very close to her; standing directly in front of her extremely protectively with his back pressed against her front. He needed a weapon, but he needed to keep her close first. There was no way she would make it to the door with him having the ability to fling everyone about. The best he could do right now was serve as a barrier between the sorcerer and Guinevère. He just hoped that Kolby, Arryn and Truan would be able to do something about him when they had the chance.
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