Post by Arthur Pendragon on Nov 2, 2011 18:22:37 GMT -5
The feast was drawing to a close. It had gone fairly well, with no interruptions. It had all been in honor of one man: Sir Lancelot. For it had been four years ago today that he had given his life for the good of the kingdom. Something that Arthur still felt guilt over, as he had been meant to take that position. But his actions were not done in vain. He would be honored every year for his heroic actions. He had given a speech in honor of the man, commemorating his actions and giving a mention to his wife and child. Over the years, Arthur had learned to separate his emotions from himself. He could not afford to be over emotional; he had to remain a strong king. And it was why he had been able to say her name so formally. Why he could look at her and not have that same longing look in his eyes he had for years . . . until his marriage to Elena. All that had come to an end when he'd married another woman. One he still did not love in the same way.
Elena was his wife, and he cared for her a great deal, but it was not love. He knew what true love was, and it was not what he felt for her. He knew he would never love another woman . . . he knew that when he walked down the aisle that day. But today was not about lamenting his past decisions. He had enough troubles to deal with. The recent miscarriage of his wife for starters. It had been joyous news that the kingdom would have an heir . . . but the news had not lasted for all too long. For it had been a miscarriage all this time. Elena had wished to spend time with her father to heal, once she was well enough to travel. And Arthur of course had no objections to this. It was why the chair next to him had been vacant, for she was back home for the time being. He had escorted her to Gawant, but only stayed for a few days needing to come back to take care of business in Camelot. This however was not the only cause of Arthur's stress. Though he had tried extend a hand of peace to as many kingdoms as he could, they were on the brink of war right now. Four years of trying to attain peace and one wrong decision could undo all that he had been trying to build.
To add to this, Aggravaine's betrayal taken a toll on the young king as well. He had been lying to him for so many years . . . as Morgana had once done. It just reaffirmed Arthur's earlier developed philosophy of why he could not be emotionally invested with anyone. Why he had to distance himself from the others. He could not have best friends, he could not be with the woman he loved . . . he had to remain strong and sure. Confident in his decisions. He was void of emotion, but not mercy. He still exercised all that he believed in and would continue to build the kingdom towards a strong prosperous ones through peace. But tonight was not about him expressing all that was troubling him. He could never do that. So on the surface, everything was fine. Everyone had enjoyed the feast and some nobles were already retiring to their chambers. Arthur was standing to say goodnight to a few, when he noticed in the corner of his eye that Guinevère was standing alone, near the exit of the room.
She looked as if she was getting ready to leave. He knew this could not be easy for her. His eyes darted about looking to see if any of the other knights -- the ones she was particularly close to -- or Merlin was around. But they seemed to be keeping themselves occupied, still enjoying the never ending supply of wine. Arthur decided to take this opportunity to speak with her. To offer some support should she need it. He excused himself from the current two nobles he was with and made his way over to hear. "Guinevère," he greeted formally, wondering if it would ever get easier on his heart to look at her and not feel such a sharp pain. He had gotten accustomed to showing no sign of it, but that did not mean he didn't feel it. He knew the moment he'd married Elena that his heart had broken, and there was no repairing it. It was impossible to mend, and that was why it had been easier to suppress his emotions; more than he did before. "May I walk you to your chambers?" he offered, as a friendly escort. They were far past this phrase holding a different meaning, one of more suggestiveness.
Setting: In the castle
Time of Day: Night time
Timeline: Four Years after Lancelot's Death
What If: Arthur had married Elena and Guinevère had married Lancelot. Four years after Lancelot's death, and with Arthur as king, will Arthur and Guinevère find a way back to each other?