Guilty Pleasures

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur moved to the edge of the bed, pulling his pants on and tying up the laces to them. He then walked over to the other side of the bed -- her side -- where his shirt lay on the ground. As he bent down to pick it up, he heard her words. "I will find you should anything changes." He had not even thought about that. He did not fully stand straight, but in his bent over position, even with his shirt in his head, his eyes met hers. He had been so caught up in all the emotions -- first ones of pleasure, then ones of guilt -- that he hadn't even considered the possibility that she could be with child. He had said that he didn't want a child with anyone else; only Guinevère. But he also knew of the complications this could pose if she was pregnant. Yet the thought of it . . . seemed so wonderful. So, bittersweet. Snapping out of this potentially shocking situation, he raised himself once more, now standing straight as he pulled his shirt over him.

"Please do." His voice had returned to that slightly more formal tone, because . . . he didn't know how to act now. He was so confused about how to act around her. He picked up his boots and sat at the edge of the bed to pull them on, trying to think of what would happen if she was with child. How would he explain that to Elena? Would it be a boy or girl? How would she explain that to Thomas? What name would they give the child? There were both questions that concerned him, and then there were the questions that he grew excited over. But he could not get his hopes up. There was no guarantee and he hoped that whatever better outcome for her it was, that that was the one that played out. Once he got his boots on, he went over to where the rest of his things were sprawled about. He started with his belt, putting it around his waist as it held his sword.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère watched him as he dressed and readied to leave, noticing how he was withdrawing from her. She knew that it was something he had to do--they both had to do but it hurt to watch. To know that the moment was over. She wished there was something she could say to make it easier for him but she did not know what to say to him. So she watched him and wished that it was five years ago.

But wishes were nothing. There was only the reality and that was that he was going to return to his own bed, one that she could never be in with him. One that his wife would join him in, when they attempted to have another child. One that could not be her's. Hugging the pillow tighter, she forced back the tears, willing her self to wait until he was gone before she broke down and cried.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Once the sword belt was on, then came the jacket. He put it over him and while on the ground, picked up his crown. A crown that he no longer cared for. One that he wish he did not have because . . . it would have made everything so much easier between them. He would not have had to marry a princess. He could have married any woman of his choosing had he not been bound by the traditions of the land. He just set it on the table for now while he finished getting ready. He noticed his cape on the floor and looked at it. He picked it up and just glanced at the red fabric for a moment. He had told her that she could keep it for Thomas, but he now hoped that she kept it for herself. He carried it back over to where she was seated on the bed, noticing the way her eyes slightly moistened, as if she was on the verge of tears. He hated himself even more. For what he was making her feel, and now for just leaving her in this state . . . never to return.

After the intimate night they shared, he didn't just want to leave her alone and emotional like this. But he could not stay until someone else came for it would only arouse suspicion. Either way, he would have to leave her in this condition and he hated himself for it. he draped the cape around her, allowing it to serve as a blanket as he held it in place, bending over a bit so that he was on the same eye level as her. "I love you," he told her, one final time. And for the last time, leaned forward to gently kiss her lips, unable to get enough of the sensation. Finally he pulled back. His last words of emotional vulnerability he could ever say to her . . . and the last kiss he could ever give her. Before he was too weak to change his mind, he turned, walked over to the table, picked up the crown and then left her room, despising himself for how he had hurt her, and how he had betrayed his wife.

[Guinevère]

She felt the cape come around her,he told her he loved her and kissed her for the last time. When he pulled away she watched him, "I love you." She whispered, as he walked out. She waited until his foot steps faded until she wrapped the cape fully around her and cried into it for the rest of te night.

When she awoke the next morning, she managed to hide the cape before Rosa, her maid came in. Guinevère did most the cleaning for her and Thomas' room but as Rosa had been a someone in need of a job and at the time Guinevère had been pregnant and unable to move around allot she had given it too her. Rosa's jobs mostly was to help babysit Thomas, and help Guinevère get in and out of the dresses that nobles wore.

They'd spoken casually, but she felt different then most mornings. She'd told Arthur she had felt alive and she did. There was no more sleeping (emotionally) for her. Guinevère avoided the dinners that the castle for the first few nights, but did attend on her brother's arm after that. Until Elyan found a girl he could settle with, Guinevère would be glad of the escort. She did her best not to look over at Arthur. Not to even glance his way. It hurt, and nearly killed her, but she mostly managed.

On the fourth day after waking up, she took Thomas down to the stables to allow him to show her what riding he'd learned. "Be careful!" She called out to him as he ran ahead. Thomas called back a promise but hurried on. There were a few younger nobles there, who had not yet become knights but would soon face their test. They were riding quickly in the open yard meant for excerseing the horses. The area was too closed in and they were being reckless. she called for Thomas to not go in, but he--like any young boy, told her this was how they always rode. He promised to stay along the fence and Guinevère agreed to let him.

She looked around hoping someone else would show up and saw the gentle giant that she so loved in the distance. She waved to him and gestured for him to come closer and he begin walking this way. She hoped he would ask the young boys to stay to one side or take the horses to the fields. Thomas was being helped to mount, and she walked over to hold his reigns. "Wait for Sir Percival to get here, he can help you." Thomas was glad for that meant he could go faster then her small steps.

Before he could get to them however, the boys who had been fighting over some object in their hands lost control over it and it flew at her and Thomas. It caused the horse to rear up and Thomas to flew back and off. She let out a loud scream, and let the horse go to try to get her son before he was kicked or stepped on. She could hear the noble boys dismounting and one order another to get get Gaius. She could hear the large foot steps of Percival running toward them. She could hear them but none of them reach her. She only knew her son would not open his eyes . . .

[Arthur Pendragon]

On the surface, everything was fine. Arthur was the king he had been expected to be. The same man he was. But inside, everything felt different. He still managed not to look at her when she was in a room, but every night his heart ached for her, more than it ever had. He often thought of going to see how she was doing, but the rationality of his mind had not yet failed him to the point of allowing himself to actually go. Instead, he had immersed himself with so much work; as much as he could find. He would do paper work at night, if only to distract his troubled mind, and close his eyes only for a couple of hours to rest. He had tried to keep his promise to Guinevère, and had offered a joke or two to Merlin. He seemed grateful for it, but nothing had drastically changed in their relationship. Arthur could not let it. Life went on in the same direction it had before. He could not feel hope that he and Guinevère would be together. But he did still cherish that one night they had shared.

He had no intention of seeing her again, of visiting her in her chambers . . . until a certain piece of news reached him. Percival had informed him that Thomas had been in an accident and this immediately caught the king's attention. The knight briefly explained what happened, and Arthur was furious to find out that his own men had acted so recklessly around a young child on a horse. He felt guilt for it. Since Guinevère had said that it pained her to see Thomas with Arthur, he had tried to distance himself from her son. Not wanting to impose himself in her life. So he had asked someone else to take the responsibility. But now, this was what had come of it. And he felt completely guilt ridden. He would have to have a serious discussion with the men who had put Thomas in such a compromising position. Arthur wanted nothing more than to see him, so dismissed himself from his duties and went over to Guinevère's quarters.

He knew he vowed not to see her, but this was different. He was not going to be intimate with her; he was going because he owed her and her son a massive apology. And because he wanted to check on how the young boy was doing. Once he arrived he noticed that the door was already open, so walked right in to immediately see Guinevère sitting with Gaius. Right away he could tell how upset she was, and he felt even worse. For not having better looked after her son, especially when doing something as dangerous as riding. "Gaius, Guinevère," he greeted, formally. He had to keep up the formality. "I heard what happened," he added, not bothering to waste any time for he was here for a specific purpose. "How is he?" Percival had not been able to tell him what had exactly happened. Only that Thomas had been unconscious and Gaius had been called right away. He knew -- thankfully -- that the boy was not dead. But, how bad was his condition?

[Guinevère]

Guinevère was on the edge of anger and panic and . . . and any other feeling she could muster up in that moment. She stood there, while Gaius sat and explained the injuries and how to care for them , while promising to check on the boy often as he could.

THAT was when she heard his voice and turn toward the door. She wanted to run to him! To ask that he hold her! Make this better! She wanted him to tell her everything was alright because he was here to make it so. Gaius spoke first, standing up. 'He will be fine, my lord. I've given him something to make him sleep for a few hours. By morning he will be complaining about not being allowed to leave his bed, I assure you.' Guinevère nodded but it was clears he did not believe him. She was mother, she'd always worry!

"Thank you," She told him as he moved to walk out. She looked up at Arthur and explained. "His should is dislocated. Gaius had too . . . he had to put it back. Thomas wouldn't wake up. I couldn't make him wake up!" She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "He didn't hit his head hard, but Gaius said his back side will be sore for a few days. He's been given two days in--two days in bed." She tried to explain.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur first listened to Gaius's explanation but it was vague. He didn't disclose anything about his injuries, so would wait to speak to Guinevère privately. He gave a short nod to the physician as he left the room. Arthur did not need to ask away, for she began to explain the extent of his injuries. Rather frantically and panic stricken. Which was entirely understandable considering it was her son. He wished he could hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, but these were only fleeting thoughts. A temptation that he could not succumb to. He just listened, his concern growing when she explained that his shoulder was dislocated . . . for putting it back in place was terribly painful. And that he had been unconscious. He could not imagine the fear and worry that must have consumed Guinevère upon seeing her son in such a state of unconsciousness, and then having to see him get his shoulder popped back in place.

And now to see that he would have to wear a sling for some time. "He is a strong boy. He will get through this quicker than you know," he encouraged. He was certain she already knew that, but he was trying to be supportive; trying to help her . . . without crossing another line. "You should sit down. Try to calm your mind." He knew how she got when she was worried . . . she tended to keep moving about. He pulled out a chair for her to sit on, knowing that he could sit with her for a few moments . . . for it would be safer than the bed. "Please, sit," he urged, the formality slightly lowered from his voice as there was a softness there, more from sympathy over what happened to her son.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère heard him speaking but could only look at the open door that lead into Thomas' room. She moved to do as he asked but it was clear that her mind was else where and worried. Thomas was just a baby! Not a baby, baby but he would always be a baby to her! She had been so afraid that she would lose him today! Afraid enough that she'd never felt that level of panic and sadness before. Not even when her own father had died.

She wanted to go in there, but he was asking her to sit. Her mind had yet to proses that she could walk into the room if she wanted. "I should check his fire. What if he's not warm enough?" She asked, before sitting. She did not want it to go out and Thomas be drugged and unable to get warm! The thought made her look around for a blanket, "I should make sure."

[Arthur Pendragon]

It was clear that she was so very distracted and Arthur did not want to force her to sit if she just wished to check on her son. Even though he was certain she had checked on him every few moments. But it was entirely understandable. Because it was her child. Arthur moved away from the chair and instead, went to her fireplace where there were a few extra pieces of wood set on the side. "Let's go check on him then. And ensure that the fire is not dying," he told her, waiting for her to walk through the door to his room first. Arthur knew how to be there to comfort her as a man who loved her, but not as a king. Even as a friend he may have a better idea . . . but she could never be anyone less than the woman he loved. "And that he will remain warm throughout the night."

Arthur was starting to doubt if he should even be here. He was certain she had enough support with her family and friends, and he did not mean to come to . . . force his company on her. Knowing how difficult it already was. But what he also knew, was that this was his fault. That he should have given Thomas riding lessons, and ensured that the area was cleared. And for that, he needed to apologize, even if he knew she did not blame him for it. He just hated seeing her so upset and yet again, he'd been the cause of it. Yet again, he believed that distancing himself from Thomas would make it easier, when he should have been keeping an eye on him in engaging in an activity that Arthur had been the one to encourage him to practice.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère heard him suggest they go check on Thomas, and she hurried past him to the door. She she past Arthur her hand came out naturally to touch his arm in thanks. Walking though the door she paused there looking at the sleeping child. She did not go to the fire but tot he bed and sat on the edge. She'd come so close to loosing him and every time she closed her eyes it was all she saw.

Thomas flying back and her unable to help him! She felt helpless and powerless and. . . angry! At her self and the foolish boys who did not stop playing when a child came into the ring, at her self more for allowing Thomas to go in. With Elyan away, and Merlin . . . she didn't know were Merlin was. Elyan was out of the city for a few days. She didn't quite know what to do with her self while trying to help her son. "I should not have let him go in there." She whispered loud enough for Arthur to hear.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He watched her for a brief moment as she hurried to the edge of the bed. He couldn't imagine the fear and worry she must be experiencing right now. To have that penetrating fear of losing one's son . . . something that he was certain still burdened her body and soul. He went over to the fire place, checking its heat and deciding to put the two logs in his hand into it. It should last through the night, and her son would be warm enough. He stood up in time to hear her words. "I should not have let him go in there." She blamed herself. And he hated that. He supposed that a parent always carried guilt when their child got hurt . . . something he did not personally know about. But he could tell from her concern and the emotions in her tone of voice. He took a few steps towards her, coming up behind her. He began to reach out his hand, about to place it on her shoulder, but stopped when his hand was half way there. No. He couldn't.

Lowering her hand once more, he tried to find that wall that he needed to keep up between them. "The fault is mine," he said, trying to keep his voice from sounding too . . . emotional. Though it held sincerity. "I should have supervised the area." Because that was what he had always done before; it was what he purposely had not done this particular time. And this was what had come of it. He had taken the responsibility of teaching Thomas how to ride; he should not have let others act so recklessly around him. Especially since the men were his responsibility as well. Arthur looked at the boy; the poor thing. "He has his mother and father's strength." A way to assure her that he would be alright; that he was a strong child . . . that both his parents were the greatest people Arthur knew.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère sat on the edge of Thomas' bed and watched him breathing in and out. He looked smaller then ever before, more fragile. How could she not have heeded her own feelings of danger? How could she not have protected him? When Arthur claimed the fault was his, she turned to look up at him. "You can be everywhere, Arthur. This was not your fault. It was both mine and the boys who did not stop when they saw a child."

They had at least gotten enough sense to stop when Thomas was hurt, get the horse away from the fallen boy and run for Gaius with out a word spoken by her or Percival. One of her hands where holding onto Thomas and the other came up to wipe a tear from her cheek. Arthur spoke of Thomas being strong like her and Lancelot. "I don't think I am very strong." She whisper before looking back down at her son. "He wanted me proud of him. He wanted to show me what you taught him." She brushed some of his hair back, "Lancelot was a strong man. If he could be like that, and like you . . . . That's my greatest hope for him."
.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur hated that she was feeling guilty over this, and wanted to console her in a way . . . that was far too inappropriate for him to do. Even a simple hug held far too much sentiment between them. He wanted to ask questions pertaining to the incident, needing to get a better of how many were involved in acting so recklessly. He would have a word with them. Ensure that it would never happen again. Even if she did not blame him, he blamed himself. He thought distance would be good . . . would hurt her less. But in the end, it had hurt Thomas, physically. But her next statement distracted all the questions forming in his mind. "I don't think I am very strong." Arthur paused at this. How could she not think she was strong.

Even if he could not say it . . . she was the strongest person he knew. Not in a physical sense but in a way that was far deeper. A strength of the heart that no one else could compare to. He didn't know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but he was also trying to keep that strong barrier between them; that invisible guard that he could not let fall again. Not after what happened last time. He crouched down near the bed, so that he was looking at her. Fighting every urge within him to take her hand for extra reassurance. "You have a strong heart Guinevère." He tried to keep his voice formal, but knew it was slightly slipping, slowly. Especially as he was looking directly at her to make sure that his words were taken seriously; that he meant them in all earnest.

"Never believe otherwise. You are raising a son on your own. And he is turning into a fine young boy." It was all accredited to her. Because she was raising him, teaching him right from wrong . . . without the support of a husband. Such a thing should never be trivialized and he would not let her do so. "Your hope and pride should be not that he turns out like me, or even just his father. But that he has a heart and spirit as strong as yours." There was a strength to his voice . . . trying to detach emotion from it, but how was that possible when he was speaking with such sincerity and belief in her? He wasn't sure what tone slipped out. All he knew was that his words were . . . inappropriate. Because he should not be praising another woman with such sentiment, when he was married.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère heard Arthur speak and looked to where he moved so he could see her better. She remained silent as she watched him speak so highly of her that she wanted nothing more then to kiss him. So she did. Not even thinking about his wife or her son that was an inch away from her side.

The kiss did not linger nor deeper before her mind caught up to her a moment later. She gasped and pulled back with wide eyes as she stared at him with surprise and more guilt. "I'm sorry!" She gasped out and shook her head about to say it again but in that moment Thomas made a sound and opened his eyes as he tried to wake up. The medicine was clearly trying to keep him sleeping however. He looked at Guinevère and Arthur before speaking in a drawn out and drugged voice. "Mama? Sire?" He looked at Arthur, clearly trying to wake up but she eyes kept closing.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur felt her moved closer . . . and lacked any strength to move away. Before he knew it, their lips touched in yet another intimate yet highly forbidden embrace. He had crossed a line again. He shouldn't be saying such things to her; he was supposed to be maintaining a distance, as he promised. He assured her that no one would find out, yet his visits were not helping. He did not close his eyes during the kiss, he kept them open because . . . because he wanted to see her. He wanted to see how it looked and felt whenever she kissed him, as his heart ached for how wrong this was, and yet how right it felt. He was not the one to pull away but the kiss did not linger for long as she seemed to realize the mistake. She quickly drew back, and apologized. Arthur was about to say something when he heard a small voice speak up. He turned his head to see Thomas attempting to open his eyes.

Arthur rose to his feet, taking a few steps away from where Guinevère was seated. She had a son. And he was married. So what the hell was he doing right now. "Thomas," he 'greeted' knowing that the child was fighting to sleep and that he shouldn't. He also knew that it was his mother's job to put him at rest . . . not his. Because Arthur was not his father. He could not act like his father. He could take no paternal role. He needed to fully separate himself, and yet looking down at the innocent boy nearly made it impossible for him to just walk away. "You should get some rest," he said in a low voice. Giving a short nod to the child before taking a small step back so that Guinevère could try to lure him back to sleep. And so that Arthur did not get too close to her . . . unlike what he had just done.

[Guinevère]

Her hands went to his forehead and she smiled down at her son, "Thomas," She said relived, knowing Gaius said he needed sleep to help him get past the painful parts but she was glad to see him awake and alive. Arthur told him he should get some rest and she knew he was right. "He'd right, you should sleep. It will make you feel better." She encouraged. "I'm thirsty." Guinevère looked around before standing, "I will get you a drink of water." She looked at Arthur as she passed him, and she didn't quite know what her expression held.

She was glad he was here, even if she knew that she should be pushing him away. She could not bring her self to push him away! She wanted him to hold her for even now the fear was strong in her. Arthur made her feel safe, and made her feel as if Thomas was safe just by being in the room. Thomas was looking up at the king, wondering if he was in trouble while his mother was getting the water. "Am I am in trouble?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur briefly watched her as she left the room, knowing that staring too much . . . he tried to remain composed. Trying to be the king he was supposed to be and not the weak minded one who kept hurting all those in his path. He looked back at Thomas when he asked if he was in trouble. "Not at all," Arthur said with a faint smile. "I just came to see how you were feeling." And to give him something, but he did not want him to know it was from him. For he was meant to be placing distance between them rather than encourage a close relationship with him. Because he was Guinevère's son, and Arthur did not want to hurt her by constantly being close to him. "You are quite brave you know."

Arthur took a step closer to him, finding it safe since Guinevère was not in the room and . . . well for now, it was safe. "Courage is an important trait in a knight. It seems you are well on your way to becoming one." He didn't know how coherent Thomas was, but he seemed to be conscious enough to ask for a glass of water. So perhaps hearing such things would help ease his mind, enough to close his eyes and rest some more.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère had been about to walk into the room but paused at the door hearing Arthur speaking to Thomas. The words he spoke filled her pride and she knew that it would for Thomas as well. For a king to say such things to you it was . . . .

It was a very big deal, in ways she could not understand. She softened worried that because he was raised by a mother he would be softer, or behind the other boys his age. However every one of the brothers she had found, and even Arthur had embraced helping her son. Making sure he lacked for nothing and was never behind. Thanks to thank, she often felt he was doing better the other children his age.

Thomas lifted his chin, but his eyes closed for a moment, and he had to force them open. "Do you ever fall, my lord?" He attempted to move his arm but cried out in pain. "It hurts." He complained and Guinevère stopped waiting by the door, to walk in. She knew that moving him would be painful. She hurried over to stand on the other side of the bed from Arthur. it was a more narrow bed, and lower to the ground, meant for a small child. "I know, Thomas," She comforted him, "sleeping will help it. Tomorrow you will not feel as bad."

She paused for a moment looking over him before looking up at Arthur, "I am sorry to ask, but . . . can you lift him up a little for him to drink?" Arthur was stronger and could support him easier with out causing him more pain.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Before Arthur had the chance to answer his question, he noticed Guinevère enter back into the room, not having realized that she was by the door. He was about to take a step back, when she asked him to help hold Thomas up. He felt bad that she felt the need to apologize for such a favor. And knew he had gave her no reason to feel comfortable asking him such a thing. It was his fault; though it was necessary. "Of course," he replied as he put his hands behind Thomas, very gently sliding him up a bit so that he was seated more upright and could drink his water with more ease. He then went back to his initial question, in the attempt to distract him. And rest assured his mind that this sort of injury happened to everyone. Most of all knights. "When I was about your age, I decided that I was going to try to impress everyone." Mostly his father, but he did not want to speak of fathers around a boy who had lost his.

"I climbed onto a horse, and stood up on the saddle with my arms out as it began to gallop." It had been a stupid mistake, and one that his father severely punished him . . . because he must have gone through the same panic that Guinevère had gone through. "It did not take long before I was thrown off, landing into a pile of mud." The details of this story only easy to remember because of the consequences that had followed. "I injured my leg and could not walk for days." It had been in no way relaxing however, for he had to study his academics twice as hard since he couldn't train. "The best thing to do is just give it time to heal. It will get better, and you will be stronger from it." Each injury that a person went through, made them stronger. And if Thomas was to be a knight, then Arthur was certain that this was just the first of many wounds he would be inflicted with.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère held the cup up for Thomas to drink from while Arthur told him a story, to show Thomas that everyone did indeed fall. This story she had not known about Arthur, and even she had to smile softly at the arrogance of child Arthur. She knew that his son would . . . . would one day have that. A son that was not hers. Her smile faded off, and she sat the cup by the bed side table. "You should sleep now." She tired again, knowing it bed best for her son.

She waited while Arthur helped him lay back down, and she pulled his covered up high on him, their hands brushing. "In a few days you will back to normal and by next week back on a horse." And it would nearly kill her with fear to watch him do it, but she knew she could not hold him back. Hinder him in any way. Thomas was blinking heavily and in a few moments his eyes didn't open again. Guinevère pulled the covers a little higher, and looked over at the fire to make sure it was going strong.

She did not want to leave him but she knew that she would need to for a few moments at least. To walk Arthur out, explain what had happened to day so he could make sure the boys did not do it again, and thank him for his aid just now. . . his kind words. Apologize for her kiss. Again. She felt weak around him and knew it was not good.

She had thought about him for days, ever since their night. Blushing randomly at times as the memories came to her. She has his cape hidden in her room, and she'd even brought it out one night to sit on the couch and read. Reading escaped her as she could only think of him. Pushing up to a stand she could not look away from her son, for a long moment, before her eyes moved up to Arthur's over the bed.