The King Has Returned . . . [Arwen]

[Guinevère]

Guinevère blinked open her eyes slowly, shortly after feeling someone kiss her forehead. It took her a moment to remember where shew as, and . . . . why she was where she was. Turning her head to look at him, her eyes went slightly wide. Goodness! It was Arthur! he was alive! HOW! WHY! She didn't know (and only half cared), Arthur was alive!

. . . . .Arthur was alive. That would both make everything better and easier and wonderful for her personal life, but politically it would make things worse, or better?!

The treaty with Odin's daughter might break if they knew Arthur was live, and with the new king of Estea having been rumored on the edge of attack the last thing the kingdom needed was another foe at their door! Add Morgana into the plan and everything would crumble! Mercia was growing edgier, not wanting to loose Camelot to Estea and the king wanted to move his men on her land to keep it from happening but that meant surrendering to him! The only friend they had for sure was Gwent, perhaps Gwant and Cearleon but she couldn't say for sure.

Yet even while all this swirled in her mind the only thing she could think of was ARTHUR was ALIVE!

Pushing back from him so she was not in his arms, she backed up until her back hit the table and could rest against it. Her face was pale and surprised, and she didn't even know how to handle this! "You . . . . your . . . . . al-alive?!" She whispered.

[Arthur Pendragon]

It had gone from disbelief, to denial to now the utter shock. He wasn't sure what reaction he had been hoping for . . . he only knew that she believed it was him, and not an impostor. That was progress. He did not try to keep her in his arms when she backed up, aware that she needed space from him. That the shock of it all caused that much of a reaction. He looked at her, seeing the color leave her cheeks and her voice stutter. He wanted to tell her that he had never died . . . but he couldn't even say for sure that was true. He had absolutely no recollection of the past five years. Which was the reason it had been so hard to convince her. "Please know Guinevère, that I did not stay away willingly." That it was not something under his control. For he would never abandon her and his family. He didn't even know where the hell he had been when he woke up from this far too long slumber. One that proved not to be eternal.

"The moment I woke up, I came to you. I came home." He had apologized for leaving, but it was not something he had decided. And he hoped she believed that, that she understood that. He didn't ever want her to think he would just stay away from her. Even when he should not have been with her, even when she said they could not be together . . . he had never been strong enough to stay away from her. He was constantly drawn to her, and even more so when she became his wife. And when they became parents. His dream had been to have a family and just when it had been coming true, he never would have distanced himself from it.

[Guinevère]

"Please know Guinevère, that I did not stay away willingly." Her hand came up to cover her lips, and it shook almost violently. Her breathing became harsher, and she feared she was on the edge of a breakdown! That she was going to loose that detachment that she NEEDED to keep on living! "The moment I woke up, I came to you. I came home." Stop!

His voice alone was enough to break her right now, much less the words that he was speaking! The ones that was assuring and nice and sweet! NO! this could not be! Finally her breathing slowed, and the color returned. The emotion on her face slowly became the mask that she'd worn earlier that night, one of detachment! She could do this, just remember that she had to. Her son's kingdom relied on her being detached from the emotional carriage wrack that she felt like inside every moment of every day since she was told that her husband was dead.

Dropping her hand from her lips she opened her eyes, and had knew that her emotions were not under control, but the mask was there. "I . . . . " Surely was needed else where, "I need to to speak to m-my men and find Agravaine, and I need to secure the castle." Yes! Focus on the task and not on the man before her! Don't cry! Don't cry! Don't cry!

[Arthur Pendragon]

She looked like she was on the verge of tears. And as much as it saddened Arthur to see her cry . . . it would at least be more like Guinevère to do so. It would mean that she had fully acknowledged his presence, that he had returned. That she no longer needed to put up this front with him. Especially not with him. So he waited, practically holding his breath for her response. It was not what he had expected. or when she opened her eyes, she had that same look of detachment she had in the throne room. Arthur didn't like seeing it. Not with him. It made him fear that she was still in some form of denial that he had returned. More so when she began to speak about securing the castle. Protecting it from Agravaine. It was just an excuse . . . but for what. To get away from him? To focus on politics? Arthur had used that defense mechanism so many times, that he completely understood it. To detach oneself from emotions by focusing on the politics or governing of the kingdom.

And now, she was doing it. But he refused to let her just leave like this. Not until he was sure. "Guinevère, just stop," he urged in a soft voice. It was in no way commanding, but more . . . pleading. "Please, look at me. Look at me and tell me that you believe me." That she believed it was really him. "You don't have to be this way," he added in the same tone of soft urging. She didn't have to be so, distant. Not from him. She was seldom distant in this way with anyone . . . but they were never so closed off from one another. It was never an aspect of their relationship. Yes, there had been times where she needed to refer to him as Sire, and where things could not be. But there was also always that look; one of longing and just love. He did not see that in her eyes right now, and it worried him. It worried him how detached she became from him . . . from everyone perhaps.

[Guinevère]

She didn't have to be this way?! That alone proved how little he knew about the last five years! Which might not be his fault, but didn't mean it changed anything! Pushing up from the ground and moving to the other side of the table she waited for him to stand before she spoke, before she explained why she had to be like this! . . . How did she even explain!?

He died! Suddenly a million people looked to her for help, and to lead an army, and to make decisions and the only thing she knew for sure what that she was heartbroken and wanted to curl into bed for months and disappear! Yet she could not because she had a son and a baby growing inside her! Other kingdoms took open advantage of her state and now her castle was filled with spies, and traitors! They on the brink of war! Her council men weren't here and Merlin--Oh goodness he didn't know about Merlin! "You died, Arthur!" She reminded him, her tone forceful, but then she spoke again in a whisper.

"I died too."

[Arthur Pendragon]

As she stood up, he too rose to his feet. He was trying to determine what look was behind her eyes, but found this Guinevère difficult to read. At least when it came to the emotions on the surface. He still felt he knew her -- or at least hoped he did -- and not just this strong queen she had become. It made her no less his wife, and him no less her husband. After what felt like an eternity of silence, she finally spoke. And the words broke his heart all over again. "You died, Arthur!" No. No he didn't. Or . . . did he and he had just been miraculously brought back to life? That sounded ridiculous. Then again, no more ridiculous than his inability to recall the past five years of his life. Bit those words were not what broke his heart. It was the next ones. "I died too." No. He didn't believe that. He knew she had taken good care of their children. She had run this kingdom, standing with no king as a support.

Though, he was not sure what to say right now. He could not say that he hadn't died because . . . what if he had been on the brink of death? He wished he had more answers for his own peace of mind as well as hers. But he had none. And so did not know what to say. "Don't say that," he whispered, not wanting to hear about how she had died when she stood strong now. "You raised our children, on your own. I can not imagine how much strength that takes. Almost as much as ruling this kingdom." He knew how difficult it was, one thing more than the other. And he hated that she had to go through it alone. That he had not been there for her. He hated that she grieved for him, that his children grieved for him. And now he was here, and it felt like no one recognized him. That he may as well be a ghost.

[Guinevère]

"Don't say that," The truth might hurt, but it didn't change anything! "You raised our children, on your own. I can not imagine how much strength that takes. Almost as much as ruling this kingdom." No! He shouldn't say such things! He didn't know! He didn't know the mess she'd made! How far she'd taken his golden kingdom down!

"I am not strong, Arthur." She told him, "Your kingdom is on the brink of war! Estia has a new king, and they are planning to march on us with in the month! Odin's kingdom will join them the moment any rumor of you being alive comes up, Mercia is breathing down our necks! The castle is full of spies and traitors from all five kingdoms and some I've not even heard of!"

"I can't let my own children leave the castle for pure FEAR of what Morgana is doing next! There is not enough food supply to hold us in a siege, the water is about the only thing there is plenty of, and the army is not half as strong as it had been before you died! We are about too loose EVERYTHING, so don't tell me I am strong!"

[Arthur Pendragon]

He . . . did not even know where to begin with all she said. He wasn't even sure that all of it had properly processed in his mind. It sounded like they were having a three font war, with various kingdoms, and the fight against Morgana. Arthur didn't know what happened in the past five years, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Now that he was back, he was going to do everything he could to protect his family, and the kingdom. He felt horribly guilty for leaving all this for her to deal with. He had always thought that in the event of his death, that his uncle would be there to offer support. But it seemed as if so much had changed . . . and she was taking on all the pressures herself. He knew what that was like. Hell, he'd done it all the time before he had 'died. And that was not what he had wanted for her. He had told her before marrying her that he valued her council, but he never had wanted her to take the full responsibility herself.

He could not longer hold himself back. He wasn't sure if she would pull away from him, but in this moment, he did not care. He wanted to assure her that everything would be alright. So he stepped toward her, and put his arms around her. He pulled her close to him, and his hand went to the back of her head, just gently stroking it. What a state he had left her in. He felt as if he abandoned his entire family and kingdom, and she should not have been left to run the whole of Camelot. "It's ok," he said in a soothing voice, lowering his head to kiss the top of hers. He was not about to offer a solution for each and every problem, since he didn't know the details of it. His main objective in the moment was to calm her down; was to reassure her. "Everything will be alright," he whispered, finding his own comfort and solace in holding her. Either though it should be him trying to give her that peace. "I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere." Never again.

[Guinevère]

"It's ok," It wasn't! Arthur came around the table and reached for her, while she tried to step back, he pulled her closer. Guinevère's hand came up to rest on his chest but instead of just sitting there like they would have, they pushed on his chest slightly--as if to keep some element of distance there. "Everything will be alright," No, it would not. "I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere." . . . . Here is where she proved it.

She let the almost hug, stay there for a moment, her mind wishing the kiss on her head and been on her lips, before pushing hard enough to step back from him. "I can't." She told him, "I can't . . . . let you."

This hurt her to say to him. "Whatever brought you back from the dead, Arthur, could take you back. Until I can speak to Emrys, and known your here for good, I can't . . . . " Can't let him. Can't let their children near him. Can't publicly acknowledge that the king had returned. "Everyone has to think your the pretender until then. I'm sorry."

[Arthur Pendragon]

It seemed every time he tried, she would keep stepping away from him. It would be a lie to say that it didn't hurt. But he had to understand why she was doing it. It was her next words that he was in total disagreement of. She couldn't let him? Couldn't let him what? Be her husband? Be a father? Be the king he was supposed to be? She couldn't let him help take the burden from her? She couldn't let him rule Camelot once more? Who the hell was this Emrys person?! What gave him the credibility and right to lay out Arthur's future? He didn't know what brought him from the dead, but surely it would not just suck him back? He didn't even feel like he had died! Only that he woke up from an incredibly long sleep. It was not the politics that were the only things sinking into his mind. It was something far more important. His children.

He looked at her, now a distance between them again. If she needed him to be a pretender only for a short time, then fine. He could understand that for political reasons. But he was going to step into his role as father. And that right now, was what he felt the need to emphasize. "I have missed five years of my children's life," he began to say, trying to sound strong but there was a strong tone of pain in his voice. Because it hurt to think of all that he missed. "I will not miss another moment with them." Surely, she was not suggesting what he thinks she is. But just to be on the safe side, he had to speak his mind. Because, he was not going to pretend to not be their father. Not when it was within his right to be with them.

[Guinevère]

She knew that Arthur would not like it, but until she knew that this wasn't just some magical spell that would bring him here for a short while then she could not change her mind. Would not! It would break her if she had to see her children as sad as she had been for five years. "I go to bed every night remembering you touch. I wake up from a dreams in which you are there, only to find the bed as cold as it was when I joined it. "

"I live every moment of my life, knowing that you are not besides me!" She paused for a moment to make sure her next words were not cold, but not emotional, either. "I will not watch my children weep after you have gone again." It would break her! "I refuse to hurt them in such a way! They are too young to understand, and it would break their hearts should this be something that does not last!"

"You don't even know how your back! WHY your back! In this moment! When hope is thin, I am not about to give them something and then watch it be taken from them hours or days later!"

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I am so sorry, but I am not strong. Not like you think. I am hanging to my sanity by threads, and they are growing weak. Seeing their heart break would finish me. I have to be strong for them, and until we know your here to stay . . . no one can know you've here."

[Arthur Pendragon]

That familiar hatred of hearing how she grieved for him entered his heart. Hearing her speak of her nights, her dreams, her mornings. He should be there. By her side. He had told her that he wanted her to be the last image he saw before he went to sleep, and the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning. He should have been there with her. But he hadn't been. And no matter how much he wanted to, he could not change the past. If he had the power to do so, he would go back to that day on the battle field, knowing that his uncle was a traitor. Her first words had been what pained him, but now it was the talk of her not letting him see his children. Their children! He refused to accept that. He was their father. He had a right to see them. He was not thinking of his return as a something temporary. He was thinking it to be long term. Though she did not seem as optimistic. Regardless, if he was here only for a short while, he would make the most of it. "I am their father," he argued, unwilling to just accept her decision and let it be.

"I have a right to see them. I have a right to hold my daughter." For what would be the first time. "I have a right to see the young man my son is growing to be." So long. It would be so long. And it killed him that they wouldn't even recognize him. Because he had not been there. He could understand her need to protect them though . . . he just didn't know how much longer he could wait. And his next words would be so hard to say, but he knew that if he had a choice . . . he would rather see them somehow, then not see them at all. "Do not tell them who I am." Their father by blood and right. "Just, let me see them. Please." Never, did he think he would be having to beg his wife to see his children. He never thought this day possible. But, a lot had changed and now he felt that her decision to let him see his own children would either make or break him. "I need to see them," he added in a small, slightly breathless whisper, continuing his plea for her to let him see Amaren and Anna. After being deprived of them for all this time.

[Guinevère]

"I am their father," "Then spare them!" "I have a right to see them. I have a right to hold my daughter." Anna! Oh dear Anna. He didn't know how small she would be. She didn't even know how to tell him. "I have a right to see the young man my son is growing to be." Their son. So brave and big now. Last time Arthur held him he'd been

"Do not tell them who I am." Lie to them?! She wasn't sure she was fond of the idea. "Just, let me see them. Please." She was not sure she could deny him, but she wasn't sure she could give him. "I need to see them,"

"Arthur . . . . " She sighed and looked down, "I should warn you." She whispered, "About Anna." Looking up at him, she knew that this would be hard to explain. "You'd died and . . . I was broken. It was hard to live without you . . . It was . . .I was . . ."

"She's not sick! She'd healthy but she's so small." Guinevère always was afraid that something would happen to her! That she's get hurt, or would be easily hurt. "Gaius said babies born too early are often very small. That they can live wonderful lives, but she would always be a little smaller then normal."

just then boot steps hit the hall outside and there was a knock on the door before it flew open and Alex burst in, 'Gwen! Agravaine has gotten men into the castle! They are in the lower levels!' Guinevère moved to run toward the door, "What part!?" She demanded, and he looked t her, 'We are fighting to hold them back, YOU know we wont let them past us!' Her babies!

She ran out the door and down the hall, into her chambers to grab her husband's sword. Running back the hall she looked back toward Arthur, holding it out to him. "Please! I don't care what it takes. Who you tell them you are! I don't care. please! bust Bring them too me."

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Arthur . . . . I should warn you. About Anna." What about her? Was she sick? He didn't know anything about his daughter, only that he had one. So he held his breath, waiting to hear what she had to say. She spoke of her pregnancy, and Arthur truly couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been. He wished he could have been there. And taken care of her as he was able to with her first pregnancy. When she'd been expecting Amaren . . . he had been so worried for her, but so very happy. And it felt all the more wonderful to be able to take care of his wife. With Anna, she had been grieving, for him. So whatever medical problems Anna had, was because of his absence. He braced himself for it, though felt a short wave of relief when Guinevère immediately assured him that she wasn't sick. Only small. How small? How early was she born? How small would she remain? Arthur had so many questions and concerns about her, but before he could say anything, he heard a knock on the door and a servant -- Alex -- burst in. There was something frantic about him and it wasn't until he started to speak that he immediately understood why.

Agravaine's men were in the castle. This immediately put him on guard, wanting to go find them and eliminate the threat. Agravaine would not give up. Not even while he now knew that Arthur was still alive. The next thing he knew, Guinevère disappeared from the room and Arthur wanted to run after her, but Alex stepped in between him and the door, clearly not trusting him. Arthur could easily shove him to the side, but it seemed he would not have to because soon enough, Guinevère returned . . . with his sword. She held it out to him and Arthur paused for a moment. "Please! I don't care what it takes. Who you tell them you are! I don't care. please! bust Bring them too me." Arthur did not need to be told to do this. He only knew it would be easier if he didn't have to argue with her. So he took the sword in his hand, almost forgetting the power it seemed to wield when he held it. How it moved. How it cut through the air. As if it was made from magic. He did not stand there admiring the blade. He'd already done so when he had pulled it out. He just took it and told Alex to lead the way of where they were.

"Stay here," he told Guinevère, already returning to giving such commands to ensure her safety. If the guards would not listen to his word to protect her . . . then at least Alex would be with him to send guards to make sure the queen stayed safe. In the meant time, Arthur had their children to worry about. They moved quickly through the halls and down the stairs, going lower and lower. Not even sure where it was that they were going. Not until they reached a certain flight, that Arthur knew where the children were. Because there was no other room of interest in this area of the castle. He no longer needed Alex to be a guide. He sent him to find guards to send to the queen for protection. With that, Arthur raced toward the room that was once his mother's storage area. When he got there, he saw the door open, causing his heart to pound in his chest. Had they already gotten to them?! No. He heard voices and sounds, only making him move faster. He walked cautiously, quietly, though quickly down the hall, creeping up on the unsuspecting men.

They seemed to be just looking at something, and it wasn't until Arthur was directly behind them, that he could see the source of distraction. It was his son. He . . . was so grown up. So much so that Arthur froze, just staring at him, thinking of all that he had missed in his life. His first words. His first steps. Times of training. Teaching him all that he knew. He could make up for it now . . . but in this moment, could only think of how big he had gotten. And how Arthur had not been there to watch him grow. The young boy was struggling to hold up a sword, acting as defensively as he could. It caused Agravaine's men to laugh which triggered Arthur's anger. Especially when he caught a glance of who Amaren was protecting: Anna. His daughter. He was seeing her for the first time and she looked positively beautiful. The same moments of what Arthur had missed in her life ran through his mind. He could see what Guinevère meant, in terms of her being smaller than a child her size. She looked all the more delicate. And Amaren was trying to protect her.

Arthur knew he could not just stand here, completely distracted by seeing his children, one for the first time and the other for the first time in years. He needed to protect them. So he snapped out of whatever trance he had entered, mostly due to the fact that one of Agravaine's men stepped forward to seize Amaren. That was when Arthur cleared his throat, and the man turned around, only to be greeted by an angry father. Arthur raised his sword and immediately claimed the life of the first man. Excalibur felt as it always did; flawless. As if it was made for no one else but Arthur. The weight; the sharpness; everything about it was perfect. And he felt a million times stronger with it in his hand. He moved forward to step in between the children and the men. "Get under the bed," he told them with an authoritative voice. Amaren seemed to realize that Arthur was trying to help, so grabbed his sister's hand and they both went under one of the beds stored in this room. Now, Arthur would not have to worry about them getting in the middle of combat. He just focused on the combat itself. Agravaine's men were not without training.

And so fighting off three of them was more difficult than it should be. But not done without success. With Excalibur in his hand, Arthur felt stronger than ever. The way it blocked the swings from other swords, cutting through the air with such purpose. Arthur had used many different kinds of weapons, and he had never seen something as great and strong as this one. Perfectly crafted; perfectly suited to its handler. It was what made this particular fight short and quick. As it smoothly found its way into each man, whether it be a slash on the chest, or fully inserted in them. Arthur hated for the first impression of his children to be filled with violence, but he had no other choice. If he could spare the men, he would have. But they kept pushing him and in the end, it left Arthur with no alternative. As each man crumbled to the ground, Arthur looked around to make sure there were no others. He went outside in the hallway for a moment, looking both ways to ensure that no more were to come.

When everything seemed to be clear, he put the sword in between his shirt and belt, and took a deep breath. He was not out of breath from the battle, but he inhaled deeply because of who he was about to meet. His children. Both of them. He went over to the bed and crouched in front of it, titling his head to the side so that he could see them. "You can come out now," he said softly as he extended his hand to help them out. "It's alright. You're safe." He wasn't sure if they would trust him, for they didn't know who he was. And the uncertainty and lack of familiarity in their eyes broke Arthur's heart. He had wanted to be their father. Not just by blood but the father figure in their lives. He wanted to be who they would look to for protection. Who they would see and instantly be reassured that they were safe. Now, he had to see them in their uncertainty of him. Not knowing whether to trust him or not. It killed him. It nearly caused him to die all over again.

[Guinevère]

"You can come out now, it's alright. You're safe." Amaren was the first to come out, slowly. He was tall, like his father and held his mother's skin tone. His hair was shortly cropped, and thick but not curly, making him a perfect blend of his parents. His eyes were his mother's, and he had his father's cheek bones and jaw line.

He didn't move from the bed, not telling his sister to come out yet. "Who are you?" Amaren then pointed, "That is my father's sword! It's only for him to use!" Saving his life apparently had not meant anything. He was not going to trust a stranger. Though he didn't seem as afraid as he had with the men, just more questioning. Though, no time was given before the man could answer.

It was then that foots steps filled the hall, light and quick. Guinevère reached the door way then, slightly out of breath and sword in hand. She had not waited to find out if her children where safe. "Amaren!" She cried out moving forward, dropping the sword, and falling to her knees near the bed. "Mama!" Anna cried and crawled out to her mother.

Anna looked just like her mother, in every single way but one. She had Guinevère's skin tone, and cheeks, and long curly hair. She had her mother's freckles dusted over her noise and upper cheeks. However there was one thing that she had, that seemed to defy all logic. Her eyes were bright blue, and with her dark skin, they stood out drastically. Amaren moved forward, to hug his mother as well, but kept his body turned toward the man. "Mama, the man made the bad men go away." "I know, baby," She said hugging her daughter to her, reaching out to kiss Amaren's head.

Guinevère then looked at Arthur, and held out her hand, wanting him to join them. "Mother?" He asked, hesitantly, "He has Papa's sword." "I know," She whispered, "Amaren . . . I can't explain allot right now, but I need you to be brave for me, alight? We can't stay here. It's not safe." They needed to get back tot he higher levels. "He's your father Amaren,"She told him, not caring any longer if they knew or not. She'd deal with the aftermath but Arthur had been right. He deserved the right for his children to know him.

Amaren took a step closer to his mother, but looked as if he wanted to move closer to Arthur. Anna however looked up with her eyes wide, clearly wanting to know more. "But my Papa's in heaven?" She asked, "No, we thought he was, but he's here." With that Anna held one small hand out to him. Guinevère knew it would be easier for her, for she didn't understand what death was. Amaren knew however, and his mind would take more convincing. "We need to go." Looking at Arthur, "Will you carry her?" Amaren could run holding her hand, or his.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had not had a chance to answer his son's question. His son. He grew distracted with just looking at him. Seeing the strong features in his face, the way he looked like his mother as well had small elements of his own looks in him. The son that he had missed so much time with. He abruptly turned his head, his hand touching the hilt of his sword, when he heard approaching footsteps. But he immediately relaxed when he saw that it was Guinevère. Her presence was enough to make Anna come out from under the bed. And that was when Arthur got a good look at her. She looked just like her mother. With the exception of her eyes. He knew they were from him. Yet with her skin tone and the brightness of her eyes . . . it was the perfect contrast that complimented each other. She looked beautiful. Extremely tiny, but so beautiful. Arthur just watched his children as they embraced their mother. His throat went dry, the awareness that his own children saw him as a stranger was overwhelming. He did not move closer to them. He just watched Guinevère with them.

While he was obviously grateful to be brought back from the dead, this was also torment. For him to watch his family, without having been a part of it for the past five years. What if Guinevère was right? What if it was better that his children not know him? He wanted to see them,, but what if he only got to know them . . . and left again. That would be cruel to them, it would be cruel to Guinevère. Yet, she had told them he was their father. He gave a small, faint smile. The emotions of what all he had missed in his family's life getting the better of him. Leaving him speechless and filling him with a strange sort of awkwardness that he never wanted to feel. Not around them. He had barley been able to react to the conversation taking place. He just focused on looking at Guinevère with his children . . . their children . . . her children.He had not taken Guinevère's hand when she offered it to him, but when Anna held out her tiny little hand to him . . . he gently took it in his hand. She was so small. So fragile. He looked at her petite little hand in his larger one, holding it for a moment before finally, he showed some reaction to Guinevère's words. Asking him to carry Anna. He didn't need to be asked twice.

He slowly lifted her into his arms, rising to his feet. He was able to better look at her with her so close to him. And all he could do was stare. A daughter. That he had not known about over an hour ago. He had a daughter. A princess. And a son who already looked like a prince. This was his family. And he prayed that he would never be taken from them again. "Where do you want to take them?" Because they would trust their mother, more than a man who was a stranger to them. Because he knew Guinevère did not fully trust him yet. And for that reason, he would follow her lead rather than try to act like he knew what to do. He could not disappear for five years and come back, suddenly stepping into his role once more. It had been wrong for him to do so as a husband. It was wrong for him to try and do so as a father. And he certainly could not do so as a king. No wonder she wanted to keep his presence as secret as possible. He fully understood now, and wondered if he had just complicated the lives of their children even more. Yet, he could not regret meeting them. They were his children . . . and he loved them.

[Guinevère]

Amaren watched his sister be lifted up, and while his face looked jealous, as if he wanted it too, he held back. Guinevère took his hand, and thought for a moment. "Home." She wanted to take them millions of miles away and keep them safe, but she knew she could not. Home was their chambers, their world that others were not allowed to enter. She wanted them somewhere she could lock them all in.

She noticed Alex picking up a weapon, and knew he'd help get them there safe before going back to look for Arthur's uncle. She pulled on Amaren's hand and he ran beside her, jumping over a random helmet that was in his way, before looking back as if to make sure Arthur was bringing his sister, or to make sure he'd seen the action.

Guinevère let Alex lead, and Arthur come up from behind, until they got near her chamber--their chamber?--the chamber? She was different with her children around, softer, less detached. After checking to make sure the room was clear, Alex handed the sword to Guinevère, and left to help with the scerch. More guards would be up to watch the hall, rather then the few up here now. "Find Sir Kobly, or Sir Arryn, send them to me, and as soon as there is any sign of the riders coming with the council, I want to know. Until then, don't disturb us. . . . and don't let anyone know about . . . " About Arthur. Alex nodded, and left.

Amaren walked over to one of the window and looked out. Guinevère knew she needed to speak to him but first, she needed to speak to Arthur. "Anna, I think there is some dolls over by the fire place. Do you want to get one?" She asked, hoping Arthur would understand why she wanted her dau--their daughter to go get the doll. "You can bring as many as you can carry over to show your Papa."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur watched his son, as well as looked at his daughter. He had missed five years of their life . . . he didn't want to miss another moment, as if he was afraid to miss a single action they did right now. He gave Amaren a bit of a nod and faint smile when he looked back at him after leaping over the helmet. How could he expect to just enter their lives like this? What if . . . what if he wasn't meant to be here for long? What if Guinevère was right, and his return was all just temporary. She had been right. The children shouldn't get attached to him, and yet, he couldn't tear himself away from them. Now that he was holding his daughter and just a few steps away from his son . . . he wanted so desperately to be a family again. He wanted to be together as a family. But he knew, it was not that simple. He quietly walked through the halls, until they got to her -- their -- chambers and went inside. He wanted to go out there and look for Agravaine and any of his men that were left, but also knew that he could not.

Because no one could know he was alive. Not yet. Not until Guinevère checked with whoever this Emrys person was. When they got inside, and Alex had left, Guinevère told Anna to get a doll to show him. He wasn't sure he was ready to put her down. Then again, he doubted he would ever be ready. But he knew he had to speak to Guinevère. So he slowly set her down. She gave him a curious look, though did not need to be told twice to get a doll. She hurried off, her little curls bounding in her hair, on her tiny body as she went to carefully select a doll. Arthur looked after her, his gaze staying on her. The daughter that he had not met nor even known about before tonight. And yet, from the second he saw her, he grew instantly attached to her. "She's beautiful," he said, just thinking aloud as his eyes remained on her. Their perfect daughter. And their perfect son. Two wonderful children . . . two gifts that Guinevère had given them.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère's face lit up when he called their daughter beautiful! Anna was small but she was beautiful! "She has your eyes." She whispered, knowing it to be true. EVERYONE knew it to be true. Her hand came up to touch his cheek for a moment, before it fell, "Thank you." She protecting their children. Keeping anything from happening. "We've have many close calls over the years, and I still have not grown used to the fear."

Never would. "Arthur, about Amaren . . " She was whispered, but looked over at him just the same. He was looking out the window. "I can see the look on his face. He wants to be able to be near you but he's afraid." She was afraid! This could all die when he--IF he left again! EVERYTHING! "I will speak with him and explain things, but he's always spoken of you and loved you. He loves to hear Leon tell stories of your antics, and tails of how you fought and lives. . . he just needs time. This is a shock for him."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur turned back to look at Guinevère just in time to see the way her face brightened. That, was what he had wanted to see. That was what he had longed to see since his return. Was that familiar brightness in her expression. This was more the Guinevère he knew. Not the distant and detached one, but this one. "She has my eyes, yet she looks so much like you," he said with a faint smile. Her skin, her hair, even her freckles . . . she looked like the perfect blend of them both. Just as Amaren did. When he felt her touch his cheek, he kept it there a moment longer, turning his head so that his lips brushed against her palm. It had not even been a full night, and he had missed her touch. Their greeting had not gone as planned, and he still was waiting for the time to come where he could kiss her properly. But he knew, that it would not happen soon. For she was still afraid.

While she not believed him, it was apparent that she was afraid to let herself grow comfortable with the reality of his return. "You never need to thank me for that." Never, did he want her to thank him for protecting his family. As if he was doing them a favor. When really, it was his duty. He just felt all the worse when she spoke of all the close calls they had over the years. "I'm sorry, for not being there." Thank goodness nothing had happened; that they were all still safe. He wanted to promise her that he would stay here now, and she would never have to worry for them because he would protect them. But he could not make such promises, when he didn't know the details of his return. When the conversation shifted to Amaren, Arthur's gaze went to his young son, peering out the window. He wished he could recognize the emotions in his eyes. He wished had been able to watch him grow so that he could know how to tell what he was thinking, how he was feeling.But for now, he would have to resort to Guinevère telling him.

He faintly smiled once more when she spoke of how he loved him, or at least the memory of him. How he heard stories of his past and such. Arthur did not want it all to remain in the past. He wanted to build memories now, in the present. "I understand," he began to say, turning back to look at her. "If you want to wait until we know for sure--" Whether he was staying or if he was meant to return to his grave. "Then I understand, and respect your decision." He knew why she didn't want him to meet their children. And these next words felt odd, but necessary. "Thank you. For giving me the opportunity to meet them." For letting him stay in this room for the time being, with them. With her. He never thought he would feel the need to thank her for such a thing, but he did. Because he knew that she was still not comfortable with his presence here. And of course, he did not blame her for that.