Guilty Pleasures

[Arthur Pendragon]

Once Thomas was properly laying back down, Arthur just watched him as he stood up. Because it was safer to look at him rather than Guinevère. Because he had to remind himself that was why he came here tonight, to check on him. He could tell himself that, but he knew it was a lie. He had come here for Guinevère. To see her. To check on her. And yet . . . he knew he was betraying his promise against her. Just as he was betraying his wife. Elena. He could not let his mind forget her so easily . . . as he had a few days ago. When he noticed Guinevère raise to her feet, Arthur kept his gaze on Thomas. Trying to brace himself, trying to keep himself calm; though he knew his heart was beating faster . . . as it always did whenever he saw her. He brought his eyes to hers, only for a moment, not letting the look between them linger. He then turned to the fire, to make sure it was strong . . .when he already knew it was.

Looking back at her for a moment, he looked at the door, hoping she knew what he meant. That he just wanted to speak to her briefly, to get the details of who was involved in her son's accident. Without speaking he went to the door and walked through the thresh hold, waiting in the other portion of the house, giving her a moment alone with her son. He walked over to the table . . . the table where their kiss had started. He tried not to, but his eyes went over to the bed . . . her bed. A time he would never forget. He just looked at it, unsure if it was longing in his heart that they could spend another intimate night together. Or if it was pain over what he had done to Guinevère and Elena. He couldn't separate the emotions and decided it was just a jumble of everything. He wondered if Guinevère felt dishonored. If she regretted it. If . . . she was with child.

When he heard her footsteps enter the room, he quickly looked away from the bed and at the table instead, trying to act casual. And formal. Yes. It was very important to remain formal. He finally looked at her, though still maintained a distance. "I was hoping you could give me the details of who was involved in the incident." Straight to business. He could not afford to let casual conversation linger; it was too dangerous. For one topic could lead to another, and one conversation could lead to action. He could not do that to her again. He could not do that to Elena again. He had promised Guinevère. And he needed to stay true to that. As difficult as it would be. Especially knowing how upset she was for her son.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère saw him nod toward the door and she nodded her head as well, to let him know she would follow him there in a moment. Looking down at her son, she bent down to kiss his forehead before turning to go back to her bedroom. She walked though the door and noticed he looked down suddenly. She assumed it was the . . . . whatever emotion he was feeling about being back in her bed room.

"Y-yes." She thought for a moment and could only see Thomas fall over and over again. She shivered and folded her arms tightly around her. "I keep seeing him fall in my head, and I can't seem to think of anything else." Admitting that--to him--helped her try to think of who was there. "I don't know all their names. Sir David's son, and his group. I believe that there were four or five of them, but I am not sure."

Because she still could not get her mind to calm down. "I don't even know for sure what they were playing with. . . . one of them though it to another, I think but they missed. It flew at Thomas's horse and it came up. She reared up, and I had to reins." Her feet had almost come off the ground from the force of it. One of her hands touched her shoulder, knowing it would be sore tomorrow once the shock of the day wore off. " . . . and . . . . he fell back."

[Arthur Pendragon]

It was clear that the events had truly traumatized her, only making him feel worse about what happened. When she revealed it was Sir David's son who was involved, Arthur immediately knew who was responsible. A group of young men in training to be knights. In a way, they reminded Arthur of himself . . . years ago. For he too had been arrogant, and often bullied others. At times reckless. But being rowdy around a child was no excuse. It was behavior that would not be tolerated and he would make a point to track down everyone there and speak to him personally. "I apologize," he said, still trying to keep some level of formality. Seeing the way she had her arms around her though . . . made him want nothing more than to pull her in to his arms, just to comfort her. But he knew that was not a good idea, so made sure not to take a step towards her.

Keeping that necessary space between them."I will speak to each of them. And I promise you this will never happen again." When he noticed her hold her shoulder, his concern grew. It was bad enough that her son was harmed, but . . . was she too? Gaius had been here, surely he would have checked on her. Unless she did not disclose to him that she had been injured as well. Knowing her, she would never place herself as the priority in a situation. "Are you hurt?" He asked, trying to remain distant, but that question inevitably held some emotional concern. More so because he loved her, rather than just because he was a king and responsible for the well being of all the citizens in Camelot.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère shook her head when he apologized, not waiting to hear him apologize for something he had not control over! It wasn't his fault! It was the boys who did not stop to think! It was her fault for not being the adult and doing something about it! She still felt the servant around most nobles, and even after years, had not though to tell a noble son to not do something. It nearly cost her, her son!

"Do not apologize," She told him, "Than should be the ones to apologize. I should be the one who-" Her voice broke as she looked at Thomas' door. She knew that there would be no sleep for her tonight. She wished that Elyan or Merlin was here, but even more she wished that Arthur was her husband and that he was the one holding her, and had been the one there! That he had been by her side and none of this had ever happened!

He asked if she was hurt. "It's fine. It is just sore." She told him, not wanting to make a big deal out of something some minor when her son was int he next room and unable to get out of bed for a few days because she'd not don her motherly job!

[Arthur Pendragon]

He watched her, hearing the pain and guilt in her voice . . . and hated hearing it. "I introduced him to this." He had put him on a horse, and while he knew that had it not been him, someone else would have . . . but the fact of the matter that it had been no one else. It had been him. "I should have been there." But he wasn't. He had distanced himself . . . because that was what he thought he needed to do. Had he been there, he would have easily told the boys to be rowdy elsewhere; away from Thomas. She could not have known what their behavior was like. Arthur did. He was responsible for each and every person in this kingdom, and to know that a child was hurt simply due to the disregard and foolishness of a group of immature young men . . . was terrible. "It is not your fault."

He felt the need to add this, so she knew not to blame herself. But he also knew that saying it and truly believing it were completely different. "It's fine. It is just sore." He didn't like the sound of that. The way she dismissed her injury, because she was worried for her son. Of course it was understandable, but if an injury was not treated then it could only get worse. "Did Gaius take a look at it?" He asked. He doubted it. For then she would have been given something from the pain. Would it be going too far if he asked to look at it? Not by asking her to remove her dress. Simply by feeling the area. The thought alone answered Arthur's own question: it would be going too far.

[Guinevère]

He spoke of it being his fault because he put him on a horse and had been teaching him. "No, I thank you for that. A mother can not teach a son to do many things he needs to learn to do, and with you and the knights-" The knights always meant the same group of men to her "-he would not be able to do many things he enjoys doing, or keep up with the other children his age. I thank you for it."

He also asked about her arm and she shook her head no, "I wanted him to look at Thomas, and not at me. Thomas needed him more then I. Gaius said he had the breath knocked out of him and that was why I could not wake him. He had actually stopped b-bre-thing for a few moments!"

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur only continued to feel guilty when she thanked him for teaching him how to ride. She should not thank him for that. While he had been the one to put him on a horse, he was not the one who should have done that. All the others knight she was close to that she spoke of -- Percival, Gwaine, Elyan, hell even Merlin knew how to ride a horse -- should have taken that duty. Not him. "It was not my place to do that." A king did not teach a boy how to ride, and while he could use all the excuses . . . the truth was he had done it because it was Guinevère's son. Part of it had been also because he felt responsible for Lancelot's death, but the main reason was because Thomas was the son of the woman he loved. And everything came back to that fact. "The other knights will teach him all that they know I am certain." Meaning, he would take a step back from Thomas.

And not over involve him in his life, when there was already such tension between himself and Guinevère. It was apparent that she was still not over the shock and trauma of it. The way her voice was shaking and breaking; the way that she did not even seem to recognize her own injury . . . one that Arthur found himself growing worried over. She could have just as easily sprained something. He would have to try this again. This time, with more strength and conviction than before. He pulled out a chair. "Guinevère, come sit down." His voice was not stern -- not as much as it should be -- but it still held a bit of formality, not as soft as it would have otherwise been. Had the circumstances between then been different.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère walked the few steps over to the chair but did not sit down right away. She looked into his face and just looked at for a moment. She knew what his words meant and even as frantic as she was feeling she didn't want this. Thomas loved Arthur, and she did not want him to loose that. Just because she could not have him in her life, did not mean that Thomas should have to either. "Please don't." She asked of him, knowing he would know what she meant.

"I could not get him to wake up, and I kept trying and trying. Percival was there and he put a hand on my shoulder when he arrived and even knowing he was the one behind me, and knowing that there is only one man with hands the size of his . . . . "

"I wanted it to be you. I wanted you to be there because I know you'd not let harm come to him. That you would make sure he was alright. I feel safer knowing he is by your side then any other man on this earth. I know we can not be around each other, but I would rather it be you. The right is yours Arthur, more so then any man."

she did finally sit, after watching his face for a moment, still felling cold but knowing better then to try to pull out the only thing that kept her warm. His cape.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Please don't." He did know what she meant. And he did not want to hurt her by his assurance that he would distance himself from her son. At the same time, wasn't it hurting her when he was with him? She went on to explain what had happened. How she had tried to wake him up. How . . . she felt Thomas was safe with him. These words meant the world to Arthur, but they shouldn't. He should not feel such honor to hear her say that it was his right to be around her son. He should not feel glad that she trusted him so much with something so precious. But he did. And he knew he could not admit this to her. Nor did he want to distress her further by sticking to his plan of detaching himself from her and her life. It was getting increasingly difficult to do that. He had done it for years, but it felt impossible these past few days to just . . . pretend. He would have to think of the right words to say; the proper way to phrase it.

"Does it," he paused for a moment, trying to think of how to say what he wanted to say. Thankful that she was not looking at him right now for he was still standing behind her in the chair. He would not have to control his expression as much as the emotion in his voice when trying to ask this next question. "Hurt you when I am with him?" He knew it was a strange thing to ask, but he hoped she knew what he would mean. For she had said before it pained her . . . because of reasons they both felt the loss over. Of not being able to have a child together. "I don't want to hurt you," he added in a lower voice, knowing it was too late for that now. He was only being this bold because he was not looking into her eyes. He knew it was cowardly, and that he was yet again, crossing a line. But this was in regards to her son. And something that he had done before . . . he just needed to make sure it was alright to keep doing in the future: teach her son what he could. "Or him," he quickly added, pulling that emotion from his voice; trying to sound formal again.

[Guinevère]

She did not turn to look at him as he spoke, asking if it hurt her when he spent time with Thomas, and he went on to tell her that he did not want to hurt her or her son. "No," she was able to answer very honestly, "It comforts me." She looked down at her lap and knew that she should not say these next words. She should hold them back and not tell him.

"You are the greatest man I know, Arthur, and he looked up to so much. I had been so afraid when he was small, at how I would teach a child how to have the type honor and courage that your knights do. Then Elyan started taking him to see the men train, and I saw you with him. I had worried he might get hurt but . . . knowing he was there, and you were there. . . "

"I felt he was safer. I worry about him every moment of every day, but it's easier knowing that your there when I am not. I trust you. I know you will make sure he stays unharmed." Unlike how she did today.

[Arthur Pendragon]

It comforted her. But when she went on to say that he was the greatest man she knew, he closed his eyes for a moment. She shouldn't be saying such things. She should not think him a great man, especially after all that he had done. When she had told him about how Thomas had looked up to him, Arthur's thoughts had been consumed with how unfit as a role model he was. To her son especially. And nothing had changed on that front. He still found himself unworthy of that honor. She said that she trusted him with her son, but he had let harm come to him today. How could she still hold so much trust for him after . . . everything. Not just what happened today, but in general. "The knights, your brother and friends can teach him all he needs to become a knight." Arthur was saying it aloud to . . . convince himself more than her. Because he could not let her bestow such an honor on him.

"But do not discredit yourself Guinevère. He will become a great and honorable man, because of you." Because of how she will raise him. And Arthur needed to stop that there. Before he said something that crossed a line. Like last time. Where one request had led to so much more. He quietly cleared his throat, reminding himself why he was still behind the chair. It was not to attain courage in saying all that he was too weak to say to her face to face. "Where does your shoulder hurt?" He asked. If she was not going to let Gaius take a look at it, then he would just make sure that there was no severe injury there. So that it would not become worse in the morning. He still wanted to take care of her; he still loved her. No matter how wrong it was. He could not just randomly stop loving her, which was why he did not let his heart control his actions. Though last time he was with her . . . it had happened. And it could not happen again. Never again.

[Guinevère]

She turned in her chair and looked up at him, unable to not at least try to keep him in Thomas' life. "Please," She begged him, "You are his king. One day he will be one of your knights, and he is at the age where he thinks of nothing else. You are his hero, Arthur. He would not understand why you suddenly keep from him. I promise to not to go with him to where you are. I will stay away."

She was assuming part of this was from the kiss a moment ago, from how she could not control her heart. She knew he was married and twice now she had been improper. "He loves you, and when he plays knights with his friends he only wants to be you." Sometimes he got to be the king, sometimes he did not. All the boys it seemed wanted to be their favorite. The difference was, not all boys had the king's attention and Thomas did.

He loved it, and not just because Arthur was king. Because he was kind to him, and to Thomas' mind was the best, so he was learning from the best. 'I promise." She tried again, in a whisper as she looked up at him, ignoring his question about her shoulder.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She had turned to look at him and whatever boldness he had was gone. Seeing the plea in her eyes, hearing her beg for something that she should not . . . only made him hate himself more. "Do not promise such a thing," he said in a soft voice. He refused to be the reason that she did not see her son, even in moments where he was learning something. He would not be the reason that she felt she could not be with him. "I have no right to tell you to stay away from him, just because I am there." He paused for a moment, wondering if he had become so cold and distant . . . that this is what she thought he would prefer. "Nor would I want that." For her and her son's sake. And the more selfish part of him . . . wanted it so that he could be close to her. So that he would have an excuse to see her.

So that he could have those small moments to look forward to even though it would be so very painful to see her, and not be with her at the same time. "You should be with him. As much as you can. And if you want me to remain in his life, then it is an honor of mine that I will not dismiss." He was trying to sound like it was an honor as a king . . . but it was not. It was an honor because, it was coming from her. She did not want him to be in Thomas's life because he was the king; but because of the man he was. He still believed he was undeserving of this sort of role and praise, but he did not wish to upset her further. He did not want to debate this, when it was something that was for the benefit of her son. "So do not make such promises. You are his mother. You should be there through every step of his life." Just as he wished he could be there with her; every step of the way.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère watched him, trying to decided how far she'd crossed over that line, as he claimed it was an honor to teach her son and he would not dismiss it from his life. She did not wish to force him if it was painful but she did not wish to hurt Thomas. So she would take him at his word, and not try to talk it out of him. "Thank you." She whispered, grateful he would be there to keep him safe.

She watched him for a few long moments before turning back in her chair and trying to decide what to say next. She knew he was asking about her arm but she didn't really think it was something she had to get loosed at. While it would be sore, and hurt for the horse had nearly lifted her from the ground, Thomas was much worse then she.

It was why she had not told Gaius about it, she wanted all his attention on her son. Poor Thomas, he would be so bored for a few days and she had no idea how to keep a overly active boy in bed and happy. It would be a long few days.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur knew he should leave now. That he should just give her the lance he had made for Thomas, and leave. Walk out. Leave her chamber and then return to his own. Not encourage anything for even just by remaining here he was encouraging something. It was just impossible to not let something slip out -- or do something -- when in the presence of the woman he loved for years, and then was forced to love from afar. "Your shoulder?" He asked, the words not having formed in his mind prior to saying them. And once they came out, they processed. What was he trying to do. It was not his place to take care of her. He could just as easily get Gaius, but at the same time, he had a feeling she would not tell him and if the physician was brought here, then his attentions would be focused on Thomas.

But now Thomas was sleeping, and he knew that Guinevère was in pain. Maybe it was something he could help alleviate. Maybe not. He had to at least try. And then knew that he shouldn't feel he had to try. There was such a conflict in his emotions, that he wasn't quite sure how to act. "Where does it hurt?" And it only seemed that his words that were coming out, were completely contradicting the thought process in his mind: the logic of needing to leave right this second.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère heard him ask about her shoulder and she knew that if she answered him, then he could ease his mind and leave with out worry. "I think I just pulled something in it." She told him softly, reaching back up to touch the under side of it. She knew how pulled muscles were, sore for a few days and some light swelling but after that she would be fine.

"I had the reins when the horse went up. She lifted me right off the ground when she did. I will be fine, I just held on when I should have let go." One of her many mistakes of the day but not her greatest. She knew that she would end up having to not carry Thomas on that side on he was better. Not that she could carry him much any more. He was getting so big, that it grew harder to hold her son like she used too.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He was relieved that she was at least answering his question; that she was not dismissing her injury anymore. That and of course it probably didn't help that he kept pursuing the issue. He watched carefully where he hand went, getting an idea of the general area where the injury was. Since he couldn't actually see it as her dress covered it. And he most certainly wasn't going to ask her to remove the dress to expose the wound. That . . . could not happen. His hands moved to the area, reminding himself that he was doing this out of concern for her . . . not to create any sort of intimate environment. However, it was impossible to touch her without it being intimate. After loving a woman for over five years, how did he just pretend that there was no sentiment in all he did with her.

"You put a lot of strain on it today," he told her. He was not a physician, but he dealt with wounds like these before when his men had pulled something. It was mostly for when they were not in Camelot and on journey where they had to improvise with what they had. He had some knowledge of such injuries and why not use it when it was need . . . such as now. Once his hands were there, he gently pressed down on it with the palm of his hand, trying to determine how bad the sprain or pull was. "Does this hurt?" He asked in a low voice, making sure not to apply too much pressure to it if it was indeed bruised and swollen.

[Guinevère]

Did it hurt? It was killing her slowly. She wanted his hands on her in other places, and knew the thoughts of what she was thinking were going to get her in trouble. A shiver went up her spine, as the warmth from his hands alone filled her and made her forget that a moment ago she was cold from the after shock of today.

"It's sore,' She admitted, "It only hurt to lit mostly." She knew he wasn't a doctor, so that made this whole thing completely inappropriate. His fingers grew close to moving more closer to her body then arm and she inhaled slowly. It was a very personal place to touch and he was touching it with care. She had to bit her lip to keep from saying anything more. Anything inappropriate.

[Arthur Pendragon]

This was not good. Arthur was using every ounce of strength within him to keep his hands from wandering in areas that were far beyond her wound. Well, not too far beyond. Just areas that he had dreamed of them going, before he had the privilege of exploring her a few days ago. No. He needed to push these thoughts out of his mind before he just pulled her forward and kissed her. He could be professional in this aspect. Then again, if he truly was . . . he would have already left. While the objective was to determine the source of her pain, he was afraid that it was turning into something that . . . would give him pleasure. He kept his fingers from moving too ahead, staying focused in the very select area.

He moved his hand slightly higher, pressing down with a bit more force, but not too much. Still making sure it was gentle so that she did not feel a sudden surge of intense pain. "Does this hurt more or less?" There had to be a certain spot that was the center of the pain, that needed to be slightly pressed on . . . massaged. Arthur was not sure he had that much strength to simply caress it and that was all. But, he would at least try to see where the pain was coming from.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt his hands move and her free hand gripped the arm of the chair, while his hands worked over her arm. Her breathing had become slightly deeper and while her arm did hurt, she had slight trouble focusing on the pain while he was touching her like he was. Another shiver went up her spine and she knew if she kept this up then he wonder if she was not a crazy foolish woman!

"More," She whispered, a little bit breathlessly. She bit her lip and tried again, with a clear voice. "More then then before, I think." She trying to be honest, and not admit that it was his hands that hurt her the most. Knowing she should not want them on her. KNOWING she could not have them on her. When had she become so weak? Some needy when it came to his hands on her? Something physical? She loved him, and would always welcome his touch, but she knew she could not! He should not be doing this!

Yet she could not ask him to stop.