Guilty Pleasures

[Arthur Pendragon]

"HOW is this in any way worth something?" Did she know what he had meant? He had a feeling no, judging from her reaction. It seemed more upset than, realizing how rare and treasured these moments were to him. The fighting, was not. He felt guilty for every man he lost, and every man who was wounded for he knew that this was just an on going battle with Odin. That he would not give up, and he would strike Camelot once again soon enough. His more indiscreet attempts had not worked and these full on battles were slowly going to lead up to a war. Something that Arthur was trying so hard to prevent. If it came down to it, he would need to speak to Odin personally . . . somehow. To make such an arrangement with guaranteed protection and under a truce was not easy. Especially for a man who was so consumed with revenge.

But these politics left Arthur's mind when he was with her. It was so strange. Before, he valued her opinion above all others, knowing how wise the advice and council she gave him was. But now, he seldom asked Elena anything regarding the politics, not wanting to involve her them or let her feel burdened with them. Guinevère had always come to him with saying words he needed to here; somehow knowing exactly what he needed to hear. "Because, I was able to spend time with you." He was not hiding anything in this moment. His emotional weakness had turned to a physical one now, and he had no strength to keep fighting what they knew could not be. He just wanted to be with her. And did not want to think of anything else.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère stared at him for a moment. She had been getting a cloth to dip in the water to begin with the task of cleaning his leg but his words stopped her. froze her. Shook her to her core. He was claiming the pain that she'd just seen him in was worth a few moments with her? How was this a fair trade?

Yet she knew she'd do anything to be near him. His pain was not worth that. She was grateful, in a way, but it wasn't worth it. "No." She told him, "It is not worth this pain on you. I would not wish this for any reason." She never wanted him in pain. "I would rather you returned whole, and had come to me for another reason. I can not bare the sight of you in this pain."

Because she loved him. She reached out to take his good hand, "I will stay here. Though the rest of the day. In return you must rest, and not try to go down below. We both know that someone will come up to give you a report once things are settled enough that someone can gather the information."

She was making him a deal, she would stay-a risk to her reputation--in return he had to stay as well. Neither would leave. She wasn't sure if he would take it but she hoped he would, since he did not need to be walking on his leg.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He knew she would not wish him in any pain . . . just like he couldn't stand seeing her in any pain. When he had seen her in such turmoil over Thomas, even the wound on her shoulder . . . he felt his heart ache for her. He hated seeing her hurt in any way, shape or form. Which was why he felt even worse when he knew it was his fault. When he knew he could have protected her or her son -- or even her husband better -- to spare her from the tears. He would do anything to give her a life of happiness, but it seemed he was only causing the opposite. He also knew that he could not voice such things, aware that she would disagree. She was far too caring for her to ever bestow blame on others for what happened in her life, whether it was pertaining to her son or her late husband. So he remained in silent disagreement that this wasn't worth it. He felt her take her hand and then heard her try to strike a deal with him.

That she would stay her, as he was well aware of what it meant for her, if he rested from his injuries. He just looked at her. She would do that for him? Just, sit with him. Stay with him. Despite the risk on her reputation, as well as . . . the pain he knew that would be caused by their separation? Yet, she was willing to sit with him. But the men. The knights. Camelot. Years ago, he felt in a horrible way that he had picked his kingdom over her. That he had agreed to a political union of marriage to strengthen Camelot, rather than following his heart and marrying Guinevère instead. He regretted it. Every day, he wished it was Guinevère that he woke up next to, and no other woman. But he also knew it was too late for such a life, though they had found a way to make it exist for a couple of days. This, was similar. Not in a grand way, but a smaller way. That he could pick her, or pick being a king. For now, she was asking him to rest, willing to take a risk of only to let him rest.

A risk that could have serious consequences if she was caught. He knew they could make something up, but he also knew how easy it would be for a woman's -- especially a widow's -- reputation to be tarnished. And he did not want that for her. Not for her, not for Thomas. Would it be selfish of him to accept her offer? Would it be neglectful of him if he did not go see the situation with his knights? While all these thoughts raced through his mind, the words that came out were not well thought out ones. For once again, he let his heart have control of his words and actions, and this always seemed to happen when he was with her. "Stay with me," he said softly, bringing her hand that was in his to his lips once again, kissing it and just leaving it there. Wanting her to be with him; to momentarily fill that void in him that had existed for far too long.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère smiled softly when he told her to stay with him, and took her hand lifting it up for a kiss. His hand held hers there for a long moment before she pulled it back, only to replace it with her lips. She that she needed to end his leg and nothing could come of this but she could not help but to kiss him so he knew how she felt.

Pulling back she brushed his hair back and nodded her head, "Then I need to bandage your leg, so you will not be in pain all afternoon. And then I want to hear everything." Not about the fight but about him. She'd missed year of his life and they had just agreed to steal another afternoon, ignoring the outside world, the risk and how this might hurt many people. Together. She wanted to learn more about the man he was today.

[Arthur Pendragon]

When he felt her lips once again, he embraced the perfect kiss. Unable to ever get enough of that. He had missed years of being able to kiss her, and now he had been able to do so a so many times in less than a day. Every ounce of pain he was experiencing, was more than worth it now. His hand went to her cheek, and as she pulled away, moved down to casually twist a curly lock of her hair around his finger, softly smiling at it. Something so simple that he had dreamed of doing. When she brought up his leg, he looked down at the wound. He moved his hand from her hair and put it near his wound, to see what he could of it. It would be easier to see once the blood was cleaned. She said she wanted to hear everything, and he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her everything.

Everything that had made him the man he was . . . because it was not the man he would have been had he'd married her instead. He'd much rather hear about her. About her son. The years he missed of what he was sure was many stories about how Thomas grew up in the four years thus far. And hear of what she had done. He looked back at her, finally prepared to get the injury cleaned properly so that he could just allow it to heal. "Tell me of this charity you and Lady Marian are starting." He had remembered her saying something about it, and now seemed like a good time to introduce casual conversation. Plus, he wanted to shift the focus of talk off of him, and onto something else. Better that it was her.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère put a cloth in the bowel and then picked it up, twisting it so any excess water came out. Then she moved it over to his leg, and began to gently wipe away any dirt to dirt blood. She made sure that she did not move the kin so the pain would not be more then she had to make it.

"It's Lady Marian's charity, she was simply asking for my help on it. With the recent rains up north, many of lost their roofing and some even their homes. She and some others want to gather some supplies and send them north to help them rebuild." She explained while working, "It's on Sir Kolby's lands and he has agreed to take whatever we gather when he returns to his home soon to help rebuild the damage."

She had answered his question, and now she wanted one of her own answered. Giving an answer for an answer, to make a fair trade and deal. "Did you speak to Merlin? Did you make jokes?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

Compared to his shoulder, the wound on his leg seemed like just a scratch. He hardly flinched when she began to clean it, knowing he'd been through worse. The last time she was tending his wound like this . . . was during the dragon attacks. When she had wiped the blood and he had just held her hand to his heart. He'd been so afraid for her that day . . . never having had such a sudden rush of fear for someone. He quickly pulled himself out of the past and focused on the present, on what she was telling him. "I heard about the rains." But no other details of this. "Let me know if you require any assistance." Wanting to help in what way he could, even if he may not be able to personally go there. But he could at least offer his assistance if they needed resources or anything else. When she asked a question, he knew without it having to be established that this was how it would be: a question for a question.

He paused before answering, trying to remember what he had said to Merlin that day. He remembered the promise he'd made her, but it took him a few moments to recall the exact words he'd spoken. "I asked how his night was." He had not overly joked around with him. "And inquired about which poor woman he wanted to speak to." And that had been all. Arthur had made an effort, but a single one. For things had gotten busier after that . . . and he still could not let anyone in. "What did you do for Thomas' first birthday?" He asked, knowing it was random but also knowing that it was a highlight in a child and parent's life: the first birthday. And because he had not been there, he wanted to hear about it. He wanted her to think on fond memories . . . still hoping to distract the conversation from himself. Somehow.

[Guinevère]

She smiled softly, looking up at him for a moment. "Charities this small rarely get the attention of the king. It would seem odd if you showed attention to it." But she loved that he offered, and wished she could take him up on his offer. Wished he could help, and even more wished he'd told her more about his conversation with Merlin.

She looked down at his leg when he asked about Thomas' first birthday. "I did not do anything really, all the knights were with you out of the city. I did not feel like inviting people over for a party. I think that was I realized that I was doing this alone. I spent it with just Thomas and I before the fire. Gaius and Alex stopped by for a few moments, and Lady Marian as well. A few others. But we spent most the afternoon just playing."

"Did you enjoy talking to Merlin the other morning?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

He listened to her explain what she did for Thomas' birthday, not having realized that they'd been out of the city at the time. It sounded like an emotional time for her, and he supposed he should have made sure she had at least her brother around to help her. But the thought hadn't even remotely occurred to him. Something that he knew would never happen again. For now, it seemed that she was all he could think about. All he could prioritize. Until . . . "It sounds like a good first birthday," he said with a faint smile. "A mother and her son, just spending time together." Though he could only imagine how hard it must have been for the realization that she was raising him alone to hit her. He wished he could offer himself; say that he could help her in any way possible. But he knew he could not. "Did you enjoy talking to Merlin the other morning?" Though he tried to shift the conversation, it inevitably came back to him.

And he knew that it was going to be difficult to get out of. He paused for a moment, not wanting to admit that he missed him. That he missed speaking to him and even the other knights as brothers, rather than just as their king. There were brief moments of teasing and mockery, but no where in comparison to what they used to be. Especially with Merlin. "I talk to him most mornings," he said casually, trying not to place attention on how distant he'd forced himself to be. "That morning was no different." He knew what she meant, but he didn't want to go there . . . not right now. Thinking for a brief moment, the smile that faded upon hearing her question, reformed subtly as he prepared to ask his next question. "How did you spend Thomas' second birthday?" He asked, almost slightly playfully. He was curious though. If she had felt lonely during the first one, he hoped that the second was a bit better.

[Guinevère]

It was no different? She looked down for a moment, wishing he had found a little happiness with some jokes with his friend. She wanted him happy and could not find a way to help him be so. If he could find just one person with whom he could joke and laugh with then he could let that spread to the rest of his life.

"For that one, we spent it with Elyan, and the knights. The kidnapped us both and took us to a place were they had this little dinner set up. Thomas as spoiled completely that night. For this third birthday, we spent it with the group of boys again, only this time in Alex's father's bakery were he made Thomas something just for him. And for the last one, he spent it watching the knights joust and me trying to cover his eyes." She had not been to many jousts and tournaments but she'd been to one or two over the years. "For his next one, I will have to think of something fun. He'd at the age he can start enjoying them."

She'd MORE then answered his question so he would do the same, "Why do you hold yourself back from your friends? You don't have to be so alone."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur's faint smile remained, growing a bit when she spoke of his next birthday. One that was filled with more company, as his following one was, and even his next. Arthur didn't doubt that even without a father, that child was extremely loved. That both she and Thomas had that strong support system surrounding them, filled with people who loved them both a great deal. He also knew that if things were different . . . then it would have been their child who was being surrounded by such family and friends. But he also knew that he could not keep thinking of the what ifs and what could have beens. It was not their life. It would never be their life. "I'm glad to hear that he has been enjoying such occasions. He deserves it." And she deserved to be around people that gave her that feeling of warmth, comfort and love. Because . . . it could never be him.

"What sort of activities does he enjoy?" He knew he had asked a question he had heard hers, but he was curious. For perhaps he could help plan something for his birthday. Even if it was not his place. Once again however, he became distracted -- and hesitant -- when she'd asked him her next inquiry. He did not want to speak about such things, because he knew she was not happy with such choices he had made. Once again, as before, he paused and thought of a suitable answer, aware that she was expecting one. "The burden and responsibility of this kingdom is mine to bare." He had said it before to her, but this time it was with less formality . . . knowing that this time in particular should be said with more formality, rather than less. "It is not about being alone. It is about what is expected of a king, and that is not to have friends." Not friends in the way she meant them, and the way he missed.

[Guinevère]

"The greatest things that you have ever done in your life, Arthur are the ones you've done when the only thing that ruled your actions was your own heart." And she meant that, with her whole heart. Even their moments alone, when they knew it was wrong. She loved him and she wanted him to not be so unhappy. "Nothing else should rule you."

He'd asked her about Thomas and she didn't want to answer, but instead talk about him, yet she knew that this was a question for a question. "He likes playing pretend, and trying to be a knight. He likes riddles, and stories and . . . frogs." Something Arthur would understand, she was sure. "Jousting and winning." Something else he could understand. Arthur had tried to put frogs in Morgana's bed and he also knew the arrogance of youth where you always wanted to win. She hoped Thomas grew out of it and turned into the man the other knights and Arthur were. Great men. "Do you miss your friends being close to you?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

Her words were wise; Arthur knew that. For she always gave valuable advice. But he also learned a long time ago that ruling only with his heart was insufficient. That it had been putting his wants and needs above all others, and he could not do that. As king, Camelot had to come before everything else. "It is selfish of me. To allow only my heart to make decisions." And he would leave it at that, hoping he would not have to explain the logic behind it. Hoping she would understand what he meant. Because even in terms of her . . . he had asked her if what he wanted was so insane, and she had said that it was. Because, everyone knew that a future king did not marry for love. That he married for political gain. That had been the greatest wake up call for him; knowing that he could not have what he wanted. That he needed to be the king everyone needed.

Arthur couldn't help but smile once more when she spoke of what Thomas liked. He sounded so much like Arthur did in his youth. During a time where he could be carefree; pull foolish pranks; read riddles from a book. Such days seemed so long ago. So far away. "Sounds familiar," he said in a soft voice. He would have to make a point not to tell him of the story of how he and his mother had met, not wanting to give any ideas about how frogs could make for the best prank. "There is a book of riddles on my shelf. Take it for him." A book that Arthur had greatly enjoyed in his childhood, but one he seldom read from anymore. He had no time for fun and riddles, and Thomas would get far more use out of it. He would get it for him himself, but in his impaired state, it wasn't exactly to just get up and retrieve it. He was going to go on and ask another question, when her own distracted him. Rendering him silent again.

Her questions were getting more and more difficult to answer. "Do you miss your friends being close to you?" He knew the answer but it was not a simple one to give. He did miss them, but that did not matter. "Guinevère," he began to say, trying to formulate an appropriate response. "It is not about what I miss, and what I want. It does not matter. A great deal has changed." Since . . . he'd married Elena. "Why do you feel it so important for me to have friends? To be able to joke with Merlin?" It was not the question he had wanted to ask, for he was trying to move the conversation past him, to her and her son. But they were the ones that had slipped out. And he quickly needed to add something to end the topic. "You need not worry about me," he said softly. He didn't mean it in a harsh way this time. He meant it more as a reassurance, that she didn't have to worry about whether he was happy or not . . . even though he knew deep down, he liked that she was still concerned for him. It made him feel loved.

[Guinevère]

He was claiming he would not be selfish and put himself above the kingdom but she didn't see how having a friend would hurt him. He would be stronger for it! "There is a book of riddles on my shelf. Take it for him." She shook her head, softly, not responding allow as to why she would not offer his book to her son. She didn't want to hurt him and say the words allowed either.

"Guinevère," No. she knew that tone. "Why do you feel it so important for me to have friends? To be able to joke with Merlin?" "Someone has to worry about you Arthur. I love you. I worry about you every moment of every day. Marrying another woman or my marriage to another man did not stop any of that. Every moment of every day."

"I want you happy. I want you to find some joy in your life. Your friends can not make you weaker! I know that others in your past have betrayed you but these men came together to fight for you knowing that they would die. By some miracle they did not, but they still fight for you. because they believe in you. In who you were around that table. The man who followed his heart, and would risk it all for even one person. Because he knew everyone was important. He held his friends close and . . . . "

After a long pause she admitted the truth. "I miss seeing you smile."

[Arthur Pendragon]

He listened to her begin to explain . . . and as soon as she did, he knew her words would be hard to hear. Because it was the reality of their situation. She said she loved him, and he loved her, yet there was that reminder that he was married to someone else; that she had been married to someone else. Part of him was grateful that she worried for him, for it was the worry that a person in love held for another. It was not the same with Elena or anyone else. She worried for him just as he worried for her. And she was right; nothing could change that. It was clear that the two of them had moved on in their lives, but not in their hearts. With these past weeks it was getting more and more difficult to come to terms with that. He let her finish speaking, waiting to see what words would follow her silent pause. "I miss seeing you smile." He could easily smile when he was with her. But it was never the same with anyone else. On the surface, he showed whatever he could control, but inside, he tried not to let others in. Guinevère had already claimed his heart years ago though and nothing would change that.

He was unsure what to say, knowing he could not offer words to make this better. "They fight for their king," Arthur told her, not minimizing their loyalty, but wanting to show that it was not a matter of being friends, or having friends. "I am indebted to each and every man. And am grateful for their loyalty and risks they take for the sake of the kingdom. My beliefs in the importance of a single person has not changed. It just can not be expressed." Because he could not afford to let his emotions claim his actions. No king did this. His father certainly hadn't and he had built a strong kingdom out of it. Arthur wanted to do the same: build Camelot to all its potential and bring it to peace. Having friends was not what was important. It was about ruling with a clear and rational mind, for only then could he achieve his goals. He slowly raised his hand to rest it on her cheek, trying to assure her that she didn't have cause to worry. That she didn't need to worry about his happiness even though he knew from personal experience that such words were not always easy to follow. In fact, nearly impossible to follow.

"The joys of my life is seeing Camelot be all that it can be. It is seeing that the people are happy and living in peace." The joy of a wife that he loved was something he could not have. Perhaps the joy of a child would change things . . . but after five years, it was still a feeling he was deprived of. "It is seeing that you and your son are safe and content." Knowing she was safe would always bring him relief, even though he knew he shouldn't be focused on a single person. "Those things are my happiness. So do not worry or fear for me. This is my life now and it was what I was always meant to do." From the moment he was born, this was what path had been laid out before him. He had never known what kind of king he wished to be, but now he knew what kind he needed to be. He knew he could be happier, but as he had told her before, his happiness was of no consequence. He had a wife; he had the loyalty of his men and the people; he was bringing Camelot to peace. These were the aspects of his life that he should focus on. So, why couldn't he just be fully happy? Because he had let go of that possibility long ago.

[Guinevère]

"Gwaine rebelled against everything noble, and Elyan did not swear to fight for a king, he did so for a friend!" She told him, not wanting him to think they would fight for any king. "If you father was still here they would not be fighting for him. They believe in you Arthur, not a king. Merlin does not work at trying to be your friend everyday because you are king. I do not love a king. It is a title Arthur, and nothing more. They do these things, because they are your friend. They would do what you asked of them, because they are your friends."

"When you were a prince, we had not choice. You had to do what your father wanted for the kingdom. You had to fit into his world. But now it is your world Arthur! You do not have to be the classic king of old who stood solitary over a kingdom. You can be filled with the life you want, and live it how you choose."

She paused her work and looked at him, "I worry you will forget," She admitted, "Forget the Camelot you once wanted to build. The ways you wanted to live. I want to live in that kingdom, and under that man's rule. I want to see you happy, Arthur. I want to see you smile. I remember you used to be so full of joy. The littlest things would make you smile. You would be completely horrid to poor Merlin and grin the whole time. . . . . You stood by your friends, and knew when they needed you. You were at their sides fighting for it. Even if it was only with words."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur knew he had let his role define who he was, but that was the way it had to be. He had learned it the hard way, but he could never just be Arthur, the man. Had he been able to be that, he would have married Guinevère. They would not have had any barriers between them. They would have been happy. But that day -- his wedding day -- had shown him that he could not put what he wanted above all others. That he would be a king and nothing could change that. That he was a prince and he was bound by the laws of the land. Whether they were ones that he put in place or not, it wasn't just about him. There was a council, there were expectations. It was not to easy to be just Arthur. He was King Arthur. Nothing would change that. He could knight commoners and they would become noblemen -- for honor was in ones heart, not in ones blood -- but it was different in his position. Completely different. And he wasn't sure how to explain that. He lowered his hand from her cheek, letting it just rest by his side once more.

She spoke of how he had the freedom to choose everything. How titles meant nothing, because others cared for the man behind the title. How he could change the land to be what he wanted it to be. He possessed that liberty; that power. To not let titles rule who he was, but to follow his heart. That he could choose the life he wanted to have. But it was not true. None of it could be true. "You say that I have the liberty to choose what I wish. That I should follow my heart. That titles mean nothing because it is the man I am that matters." He paused for a moment, looking at her, trying to carefully choose how he wished to phrase this. "Then answer me this. If I were to tell you that I would leave my wife, and ask you to marry me, what would you say?" He didn't need her to answer that question. For he knew what she would say. She would say no. Because it was not that simple. Because there were too many complications. Because he was king. Because no one would accept it . . . as it was far too grave a deviance away from the social norm.

From what was expected of him. So no. He could not choose the life he wished to live. Titles meant everything. He could not rule with his heart. Because all of those things, in one way or another, involved a future with her . . . a future that could never be. He was bound by the traditions. She had known it at the time and he'd been living in a dream world to think otherwise. His future lay with Elena; dependent on having an heir to carry on the Pendragon name as well as Godwyn's. That was what his path was leading to. And he didn't want to have to face the reality of it for he had escaped the world for a few nights with her, and this conversation only brought back to light the harsh reality of their situation. He looked away from her, his gaze going off to the side. He had known these things all along, but finally saying them to someone was not easy. It was making him speak of things that he had kept tucked away at his heart all this time. And saying them to her especially was of great difficulty.

[Guinevère]

"Then answer me this. If I were to tell you that I would leave my wife, and ask you to marry me, what would you say?" She looked at him, and did not move for a long moment. His words having such an effect on her that she could not even remember what her hands were supposed to being.

The want for the answer to be YES do badly, but her heart made her not tell him what she wanted. She knew what he was trying to prove to her, and she knew if she admitted that it would cause war with a kingdom, and it would weaken his people's views on him--any of these things would prove his point and he would stay in his world solitary and withdrawn from people.

"I would tell you, as a man, that you can not. Because it would dishonor all of us. No wife should deal with the pain, of loosing her husband in such a way. Something so public. I could not bare to be the cause of hurt to another." She managed to answer, not once talking about his crown, or her want to be his wife. "She is a very beautiful and wonderful woman, and . . . . "

And Guinevère was jealous of her, and feared the day she returned. ". . . and she does not deserve what I have done to her." Attacked her husband twice and all but seduced him to her bed, "Even knowing that, I find I can not walk away from you."

[Arthur Pendragon]

She had separated this from the political situation and made it personal. This was not what he asked her. But he knew why she was doing it. Because it would never be about just the man. It never would be. And his words had proven that. It was about his role as king. At the time he married, his role as prince. She knew this. He knew this. And her words brought up all the self hatred he felt . . . because he had allowed himself to be selfish. Because he let his heart control his actions. While he could not bring himself to regret their nights together, he knew it was not fair to Elena. That this had only raised complications beyond either of their imagination. "You have done nothing to her." He wanted that to be very clear. That this was not Guinevère's fault. It was his. He had taken advantage of her when she'd been emotional. First, on the anniversary of her husband's death, and then during the ordeal with her son. This was his fault. He should have been stronger. She was right though; Elena did not deserve this. She was a wonderful woman, an incredible one.

She had the right to be loved and treated with the utmost respect. And he had completely ruined that. He had allowed himself to give in to his heart's desires. While she mourned for their child. "This is my doing." And he refused to debate about who's fault this was. It was his own. Regardless of what she said. "As a man, I never would have married her." And that was the point he had been trying to prove. "As a king, I should not have let my heart control my actions." Because, this is what happened when he did. He hurt his wife; he hurt Guinevère. And this was what he had been trying to show. Though, he knew she understood his point. He sat up a bit, finding the pain in him numbed by the intensity of this conversation. "Yet, I do not regret it," he whispered only a moment before he leaned towards her to claim her lips. Unable to find the restraint to deprive himself of her. Well aware of how he was only making it worse.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère wanted to tell him it was not his fault and that she had been the one to kiss him first both times, and not give him a choice. She'd all but forced him into it, and had been the evil other woman. But she did not wish to ruin their last after their stolen afternoon from them. She knew that there would not be another, but she would not think of tomorrow, today. Tomorrow was another day.

When Arthur kissed her, she felt her heart skip a beat and she knew that this would be another thing they could never regret. Letting it linger, she absorbed it before looking down and breaking the kiss, no longer able to look at him. "Nor I," she whispered back to him after breaking the kiss, admitting she too did not regret their nights together. Without looking at him she asked for what she needed, "Do you have anything in your room that I can use to cut this?"