A Cry Of Warning [Guinevère & Her Arthur]

[Guinevère]

"Thank you," She did not want his thanks, she wanted him safe. It was why she had done this, to keep his safe and to make sure everyone had warning. "You took a great risk coming here. And I promise you will be well protected." A promise he could not keep, but she glad he made it anyway. When she left here, he would not be able to protect her, for Arthur's power only reached to the boarders. She was not welcome here, and even if she was . . . she could not stay.

"I don't know how you crossed paths with Helios--" Was he asking? "But perhaps . . . it would be safer for you in Camelot. With your brother and friends here." It was an offer she had not expected, and she half wished he had not offered. She felt a tear roll over her cheek and she tried to force a smile. Yet even before her lips moved, it failed. Guinevère was only grateful that he was not looking at her. "Thank you," She whispered, but loud enough for him to hear, "But it would be for the best if I did not." She could not watch him build a life with another. It would be a slow death.

"I will make sure to be gone before your wedding." Her voice shook slightly and she took an deep unsteady breath to seal her words, "I wont cause a scene." He seemed to no longer trust her, so she wasn't sure if that meant anything to him. "Though with permission, I would like to be able to visit my family's graves." Not now, but one day. Banishment meant she was never allowed to return. "I promise not to return to the city, just there and back." In case he feared she would show up and cause him more pain.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"But it would be for the best if I did not." Arthur had half expected her not to accept his offer for her to stay. Was it that she felt embarrassed? Was it because she knew he couldn't be near her? Was it -- "I will make sure to be gone before your wedding." Arthur closed his eyes and quietly deeply inhaled, thankful he was not looking at her right now and that she could not see his face. The wedding. His wedding. His wedding to another woman. One that he was not being forced to marry by his father, but one that he had consciously agreed to. He was marrying Mithian . . . against his heart's desires. But, what good did it do to base decisions on a heart that was broken. She asked if she could visit her parent's graves . . . and Arthur wasn't sure he could let her leave the city. If something happened to her . . . it would be on his conscience. He would never forgive himself. Slowly opening his eyes, he tried to keep his voice strong.

"I once told you that I did not want to see you harmed." He had specifically used the word dead, but that sounded a bit too blunt for the current conversation. "After all you have been through . . . I still stand by those words. And I -- " Don't know what I would do if I lost you. Can not bare the thought of anything happening to you. "Don't want you to be in any further danger." That was the best way he could say it without overly personalizing it. Though he knew that everything between them was personal. He slowly turned his head to look at her. "You have proved your loyalty to Camelot. Let this be the repayment of it." Camelot. The kingdom. The entirety of it. She had risked her life to save that of many . . . and as he had always believed, she was a good person. But when it came to them . . . well, that was a different story.

[Guinevère]

"I once told you that I did not want to see you harmed." And told her that he could not look upon her ever day. She knew that he would never wish any harm on another--even Morgana, if he could avoid it--yet she also knew it would slowly kill them both if she stayed. "After all you have been through . . . I still stand by those words. And I -- " After all she had been though. He was not asking her back because they could move on. He was asking her to stay because he feared for her life.

"You have proved your loyalty to Camelot. Let this be the repayment of it." "I did not do this for Camelot." She had done this for Arthur, and for the people--which counted as Camelot, but she didn't do it for the land. Nor to prove anything to anyone. "And I do not need repayment." She had done enough of her own damage here, perhaps this would leave him with something else to remember her by then that last night. "Thank you, for the offer, but I cannot stay here." He had asked her once, what she would do if he married Elena.

Then she spoke of watching him become a great king. Now she could not. Yet she knew she would have to be clear, for Arthur would keep trying to make sure she was safe. "I cannot . . . . " The tears began to fall with more ease, "I wish you every happiness you can find, Arthur, but I cannot stay to witness it."

[Arthur Pendragon]

"I did not do this for Camelot." In his mind, he knew that. Though he wished she had not said it. He knew that she did not only do this to protect him, but all the other people as well. He still wished she had not said it like that . . . said it with . . . he didn't know what. He was trying to make it sound less personal and it was sounding all the more personal. He couldn't afford to be so emotional around her, and that was all he could feel whenever they were near. It was a horrible conflict of emotions and he knew full well that this was part of the reason he had to banish her. Because it was what was best. But if it was something that nearly cost her her life . . . he did not want to be responsible for that. He did not want to explain to Elyan why he lost a sister; or explain to Merlin and the other knights why they had lost a dear friend.

He did not want to spend every waking moment thinking of her, and then struggling to sleep for her memories and death haunted him. Perhaps it was selfish, but . . . in a way, he was trying to protect her. In a different way than he would have before. Because before, he would have been right there with her. But now, he could not be. He would have to offer other means of protection, and some were a given -- such as her brother and the other knights of non noble blood along with Leon. He could easily see the tears in her eyes and he forced his gaze away. He hated to see her cry . . . for most men, it was a great weakness. She spoke of wishing him all the happiness, and he knew that he would never be truly happy. That, only a life with her was capable of giving him. He would never feel that euphoria that he knew a life with her had brought, and would have brought. Instead, he would have to marry for politics and love his wife as a friend.

For when one experienced true love -- no matter how one sided it was -- any other kind of love was incomparable. "You do not have to stay in the city," he offered, still unable to just let her wander off in the world on her own. "It can be arranged that you are give a home, in a nearby village. Perhaps Longstead." Where he knew she had friends. That way, she would still be protected under Camelot -- as their villages were seldom raided -- and she would not have to be here to witness his . . . wedding. And his life with another woman. That was not something he would ever ask her to see. A single moment of seeing her in the arms of another man had devastated him and sent him in a raging fury. He would not ask for her to stay to have her heart broken as well. That was not a pain he would wish upon anyone. Not even out of bitterness.

[Guinevère]

"You do not have to stay in the city," Guinevère wished she could get up and move, and not be confined to this bed. She forced herself to sit up, and her legs to rest over the side. The pain was great, but she felt more protected sitting, rather then lying down. He was offering her a home, and trying to arrange for her to be kept close, yet far. It was kind of him, and she would not love him this much if he was not so kind.

"Arthur," She said his name softly, apologetically, "I cannot remain close to the city. Please," Surely he would see why. She could not live in his kingdom, knowing that when he married, all would rejoice. When he had a heir, all would rejoice. When other children came. When his children grew strong under their father's guidance. When he did things great and wonderful. She would be out of his sight, but forever hearing what she could not remain here to see. "This is my fault, I am under no illusions that this is anything but my fault. We both know that if we are near, it will only hurt us both. I can spare us both that, by leaving."

"Thank you, but I have to go once I am able to travel."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur watched her as she shifted positions, about to protest and tell her that she should be lying down . . . when she spoke once again of not being able to stay. She said it was her fault . . . and Arthur could not deny that. At the same time, he was not entirely blameless. He should have paid better attention to her. Should have seen the signs of any unhappiness she felt with him. He should have realized that Lancelot meant a lot to her, and perhaps not have pressured her to marry him, until she was able to properly make up her mind from his sudden and miraculous return. Yes. In many ways, it was his fault too . . . for being so blinded. Just as he was blind to Morgana's pain and betrayal, just as blind as he was to his uncle's should her words prove true. For one man to be betrayed three times by the people he loves most . . . there was something wrong with him. It could not be blamed on the other people for such great numbers was beyond coincidence.

No. There was strong fault with the man, and in this case, that man was him. "Is there nothing I can say to convince you?" He asked, knowing that he could not force her to stay. He had made the offer, and that was all he could do. He knew it would not be easy for them, but she would be safe. Should she decide to leave, this time he would make sure she had proper escorts. He would send the knights -- her brother included of course -- to make sure she got some place safe. Perhaps Ealdor, where she already had a friend in Hunith and the other villagers from when they had gone all those years ago to fight against Kanen's men. He could only pray that no more danger would befall her if she was set on leaving . . . and would not blame her brother if she wished to remain with her for some time. He would make that much clear to Elyan.

[Guinevère]

"Is there nothing I can say to convince you?" Guinevère knew that even if he was not marrying in a matter of days that one day a princess would come to be his wife. No. There was nothing to convince her. She was a coward, and she was taking the coward's way out. "I loved you," She spoke, knowing this would only hurt them both but unable to stop her words, "Still do. I do not know what happened that night. A moment of weakness brought by relief that I had not actually killed him by asking for his word to do anything to bring you home that day."

She wiped her cheeks, and tired to explain what she was trying to say. "I do not understand what happened that night, and I was the one doing the wrong. I know this is my fault, my weakness. But in this I have to be strong. I have to go, to keep us both from living as we are in this moment." In so much pain they almost could not breathe. "I pray you find happiness Arthur, and my actions do not hinder your faith in your feelings." It hurt so much to ask him to be happy with another, but she would not make this harder for him. "I will not return to cause you grief. I will be alright. Wherever I go, I will send word to my brother, and make sure everyone knows I am safe." That should ease his mind.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"I loved you." He knew where this conversation was going. "Still do." And he wished it wasn't heading in that direction. To hear that she loved him . . . it caused him too much pain. She loved him, but not enough to commit her whole self to him. She loved him, but in that moment, not enough. She loved him, but not to the point of coming to him and telling him she was having doubts . . . and instead, sneaked around the castle to be with another him. She loved him . . . but just, not enough. She spoke of that night and Arthur used all the strength within him to not walk away. This could very well be the last conversation he had with her, though her justification now was the same as it was that night in the throne room. She didn't know why she did it. She was relieved to see him alive. It only made him wish all the more that he had been the one who had sacrificed his life by closing the seal. Then, his father would still be alive. She would not have to endured all that she did . . . and she could have been happy with Lancelot. Isn't that what she wanted? Hadn't she chosen another?

He didn't want to talk about that night. What more was there to say on his part? Nothing. That night had destroyed a future between them . . . because, how could he ever trust her again? How could he kiss her, without thinking of how she kissed another when she was engaged to him? How could he tell her he loved her, knowing that she loved another as well. If Lancelot was still alive . . . who's to say that they would not have been happily married by now. He hadn't wished for the knight to die -- even though Arthur had nearly been the one to kill him. If he was what made Guinevère happy, then he wanted that for her. Just as she wanted him to be happy with Mithian. Though he knew . . . that that was impossible. "I am doing what I need to for the kingdom," he explained. He wasn't even sure why he was explaining himself. Perhaps to suggest that he never would be truly happy with another woman. Maybe to reassure her that he did not actually love Mithian; that his feelings for Guinevère would never be replaced. It wasn't about his happiness, or about what his heart wanted . . . it was about the kingdom.

"Whether you wish to return or not, you will not be punished for being in the kingdom." Meaning, she would not have to tip toe, for he would not execute her. Even though he had made the threat . . . it was not one that he would be able to ever carry through. He couldn't even imagine killing her . . . just as he couldn't imagine her dead by another's hand. The fear of that arrow striking her leg coursed through him again, recalling that nothing else in that moment mattered. Only the fact that she live, and nothing else. "I will send your brother and the knights with you to make sure you arrive at your destination safely." Especially with Helios still out there. "Whether you want them to or not." Meaning it was not up for debate. That, was the least he could do at this point. If she insisted on leaving -- which of course was understandable given her reasons . . . then he would insist on her having an escort. Perhaps if she had one before, none of this would be happening. And he couldn't exactly trust his uncle to take care of it right now. The subject of his uncle was still something he was unsure of . . . but in this moment, they were talking of her. Of her safety. Of her future . . . a future that he would not be a part of.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère closed her eyes when he said he was doing this for the good of the kingdom--what he must. Only opening them again when he said she was allowed in the kingdom again. She never thought he would kill her, she knew he would not. Yet she knew he did not want her here either and that had kept her away. "Thank you," for his 'offer' of an escort, though she knew that she had no where to go, and they could not follow her mindlessly though out the kingdoms.

She would let them escort her to the boarder, and her brother further if he wished. The rest would be needed here to protect him. "What will you do?" She asked softly, knowing it was none of her business, but also knowing that if this was their last, then she wanted another moment to have with him. Another to see him with, to hear his voice. Just one more moment if he allowed her that much, before she said goodbye. This time forever.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"What will you do?" He didn't know. He had no clue. He would have gone to his father to talk to him. Or he would have asked her own advice. Or he would have sought out his uncle's council. Yet all of those options were impossible. Never, did he feel more alone. He knew Merlin was there, but he already knew how his servant felt about his marriage to Mithian; he was in complete disagreement with it. But there was not only that . . . now, there was also talk of an attack. And if it was true, and they did indeed have the siege map . . . then they would have a strong advantage. Although not a great of one had Guinevère not come to them with her warning. "I don't know," he admitted, keeping his voice strong and not as frazzled or confused as he felt. What would he do. What should he do? Was there even a right thing to do? He held the lives of so many . . . he was responsible for everyone's safety. One wrong decision, could cost so much. Every decision had its repercussions, and Arthur was afraid that he would make bad ones.

He looked at her, this time really looked at her . . . taking notice of her clothing. The low cut and high raised top with hardly any sleeves. He had obviously noticed it the first time he saw her, but the shock of her sudden appearance had dismissed any remark of her clothing. Of how . . . revealing it was. Of how Arthur hated to think that another man had put her in such clothing . . . only to realize that he no longer had a right to jealousy. Hate for a perverted man, yes. But not jealousy. For she was not his. Realizing that his eyes were lingering over her body a bit too long, he casually looked away. The fact that she had nothing on her, indicated that she had no more clothing. Although, there were the dresses that she had not taken with her. The ones that he knew Merlin had discreetly put away to store in her home. "If you need clothing for travel, I believe Merlin kept all your belongings together in your house." So that whatever she left behind . . . she could now take with her. Including extra clothes.

[Guinevère]

He didn't know, which was understandable, for he had just learned of everything. He would need time think about plans, but as long as he knew what she had came to warn him about then all was well. Or he could make it all well. "If you have a map, I could try to show you were he is . . . or was, keeping his men. Or anything else I might know of use." Though she didn't know much. "I wasn't near his men, so I do not know his numbers, but I know that the ones he was taking were not trained as of yet."

Arthur's gaze was on her and she felt exposed, more so then when standing before Helios. Yet at the same time, the hairs on her arm stood up, in awareness. He offered her clothing--her own clothing. "Nothing I left would be suitable to were I a going." She spoke softly, "They would be better suited to sell." That would at least give her coin to buy a real dress and not this.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She spoke of being able to show them where he was located, knowing that could be helpful for they could send a few patrolmen to see how many men they were facing. He didn't doubt that it would be a big army . . . for most knew of the strength of Camelot's own army. "That may indeed be helpful," he agreed, knowing that he would have a better idea of what they were faced with. But first, he would have to deal with Agravaine. "After you have fully recovered, I may ask for your help on that matter." Since she had come from there. If she had come on foot, then perhaps it wasn't too far. Then again, he didn't know how longs he had been running for or how long she had been hunted and chased. Right now, he wanted her to focus on getting better. Even if they could not find Helios' hideout, they still had the tip as to how they would be entering the castle. That would be enough to fend them off, if they set up enough men to secure it and ensure they didn't get past.

She spoke of her gowns not being suitable . . . which made sense. Really, he just . . . didn't like her wearing that outfit. And it should not matter what he liked or disliked . . . but he couldn't help but feel it. Just because he wasn't with her, didn't mean he didn't want to defend her honor by killing the man who forced her to wear such a thing. And who knows what else he did to her. It was still a question Arthur was afraid to ask, and not one he would while she was still in the healing process. "Then if you need fabric, I will have some sent to you." For he knew she was a seamstress, and often stitched her own clothing. Besides, it would help occupy her time while she recovered from her injury . . . since she obviously was not going to be working in the castle. And until then, she could wear whatever was there so that she didn't have to wear . . . what she was clad in right now.

[Guinevère]

"After you have fully recovered, I may ask for your help on that matter." Arthur was to wed in a few days, she had been told, and she would be gone before then. Should could not be here for that. "Perhaps I can show my brother or Sir Leon," she spoke softly, explaining her plans, "As once I have recovered I should leave. I will not be in Gaius' hair long. I will let him foucse on the ones more in need then I." She tried to explain with a light tease to her father-like friend. "With constant rest, I should be ready to travel in a few days." Before his wedding.

As for her clothing, she would just ask Merlin to sell what he could, so she could buy a dress and save the rest for travel. She didn't need much, but she did not have anything. Better shoes were needed! Perhaps a cloak, and . . . she could make a small list when she was alone. Whatever she took she had to be able to carry, for she would not be taking her whole life with her this time. Every memory she had, every keepsake, hand me down or treasured item of her parents were lost when Helios found her town, and after the pain of losing it all once, she would not let herself get attach to belongs again. "I will speak to Merlin then," She told him, knowing she would let neither of them purchase her clothing.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was no fool. He knew why she was eager to leave and he could not blame her. Had the situation been reversed, he would not have wanted to be present while she wed another man. And if it helped ease the pain that they were not in each other's company . . . then that was what needed to be done. Then he would send Elyan and Leon, and whichever other knights wished to spend time with her, to get the details of what she knew. Better them then him. Because . . . things would never be casual between them. They had been together for so long, had so many hopes and dreams . . . and now, to even be in the same room together was painful for them both. "I will send them to you then. Perhaps tomorrow some time." Plus, if they were escorting her, then she would not have to extend her time here . . . instead, she could take her time traveling for there would be those keeping her safe.

"You will have at least four days here," he told her, giving a rough estimate of when the wedding would take place. With these few setbacks, it had been pushed back to that time. While the arrangements were being made, and word would go back to Nemeth. "I will speak to Merlin then." Arthur gave a small nod at this. "I'm sure he'd like that." For it was clear how much Merlin missed Guinevère. While he knew the others did too . . . Merlin was just more bold and vocal in his opinions than the others. He challenged Arthur's decisions and authority, and Arthur was often grateful for it. But when it broached the subject of Guinevère . . . that was one thing that he had threatened to banish Merlin for. Speaking her name. But now ironically here she was, in his presence. Odd how things worked out. And he refused to believe it was fate or some sort of sign.

[Guinevère]

Four days here. On the fiftieth was he too wed? Guinevère knew she had to be gone by then, so she would plan to leave by then. Knowing she was about to try, for knowing the date, and meeting the girl . . .

She was only so strong. "I shall tell my brother that in four days we shall begin out journey then." So they would be gone before everyone began the night before preparations for the wedding. "I should rest before then, and . . . . . and . . . . . and rest before then." Looking at Arthur again, she knew she would need to cry when he left, but she needed to be strong for one more moment. Because there was one thing she could never not do. "Thank you, for saving me." Back there in the woods. While she knew she would never have to thank him, she would never not thank anyone for their efforts. Staring at him for a long moment, Guinevère knew she had to let him go.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"I shall tell my brother that in four days we shall begin out journey then." Four days. In four days, everything would be so different. In four days, he would have a wife and Guinevère . . . would be somewhere completely unknown to Arthur. They had waited so long for each other and this . . . this is what they had been waiting for. To go their separate ways, never to be together. All those years of hope . . . all those moments of intimacy . . . all those times they spoke of a future . . . was it all for nothing now? He looked at her, finding it difficult to say anything, because while there was so much he wanted to say, all those things were words he should not say. Could not say. Because they no longer belonged to one another. He would be with another woman, and Guinevère would have her own life. One that he was no where involved in. And that was the way it had to be. "And I thank you, for delivering this message." He knew she did not have to thank him, for he had not saved her. She should not have been shot in the first place. But that was not something to argue about.

Knowing that their time together was drawing to a close he just stared at her, trying to prolong the moment for a bit longer . . . although knowing he should not. "Guinevère . . . " He began to say, though any words that followed, would just make this all the harder. He wanted to tell her so many things, but knew it was not wise. Not after everything that had happened. It would do no good, and it would not solve anything. It would not take them back a few months, when they had been together and happy, and everything looked wonderful with a bright and promising future. He wanted that back . . . but knew it was impossible. "Take care." That was not what he wanted to say, but it was all that came out. So with those words, he turned and left the room. Those three words were not what he had wanted to say to her. What he had really wanted to tell her was I love you. Because no matter how bad she had hurt him . . . his love for her had not diminished in the slightest.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère watched him as he said her name and for a moment, there was a small bit of foolish hope, before Arthur told her to take care of herself and walked out. Guinevère moved to lie back finally allowing her leg to rest again, as she gave into the weakness to cry for the loss of Arthur. She loved him so much, and he belonged to another, and she had destroyed all there was or could ever be between them. She knew that Gaius would return soon, and she would be strong again then. For now, she had to admit to herself how much she had lost.

The next day she moved into Merlin's chambers in the back, since it was too hard to walk on her leg, and Gaius wanted her close--but she needed privacy since she was a girl. She still wore her purple non-dress, but she had fabric now to sew a new dress with. Merlin had not sold her dresses and she too afraid to ask where he got the fabric from. It was not as coarse as it should have been, but nor was it the rich fabric of what she used to wear. It reminded her of the old purple dress she had. The one where Arthur first kissed her in.

It was another day before she was able to walk slowly to the window, wearing her new dress. Yet once there she had to sit and rest, for even the small walk hurt. Yet her time here was growing to a close, and she knew she would have to get stronger.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Once Arthur left Gaius' quarters, he went straight to his chambers. He hardly slept that night, too distracted with thoughts of what to do; both in terms of his uncle and in terms of Mithian. When Merlin came in to say that his uncle was looking for him, Arthur told him that he was not to be disturbed. And that was how he spent the night . . . sitting on the end of his bed, his feet rested on the trunk below. He had noticed the ring around Guinevère's neck; noticed that she still wore it close. Would he be a complete fool to reject this marriage with Mithian? She was a wonderful woman . . . and this would bring about peace between their two kingdoms. It would strengthen Camelot and . . . his heart was not in it. Could he do something that went against his heart? How foolish and naive would he be though to just welcome back the woman who betrayed him? He wasn't even sure he had fully forgiven her yet . . . but to say that he could commit his life to another, would be a lie.

Arthur wasn't sure what time it was -- some time in the middle of the night -- when he hopped off his bed and made his way through the halls, not stopping until he got to Geoffrey's quarters. Knocking on the door, the elder man opened it, showing clear evidence that Arthur had disturbed him from his rest. Though seeing the king at this hour filled him with immediate concern. Arthur told him he needed his help with something and once the man was more appropriately dressed, the two made their way to the council chambers. It was early the next morning and the knights of Nemeth had gathered to escort their princess home. Arthur was standing at the stairs, as she exited the castle, not even giving him a second glance. He couldn't blame her. He had invited her here with the promise of a marriage; they had spent a significant amount of time together -- indicating that all was going splendidly well with each other . . . and now, he had embarrassed her. He had humiliated her by going back on his word and for that, Arthur felt an immense amount of guilt.

"Forgive me." He knew it was too much to ask, but never the less, he wanted her to know how sorry he was. He wanted her to know that to treat her this poorly, had never been his intention. His words were enough to make her stop and look at him. "The time for words is over, Sire." He could understand that . . . why was exactly why he would not let her leave empty handed. "I understand. And it is for this reason that I hereby offer you and your descendants all the disputed lands of Gedref." The lands that they had ancient claim to; lands that had been immensely important to the kingdom . . . to his father. He did not miss the surprised expression on her face. "You would give up your ancient claims?" Arthur had made up his mind last night -- or very early this morning -- and there was no going back on it. He may have broken his word once to her, but he would not do so again. "I have no desire for war. Or to grieve you any more than I already have." For he had indeed grieved her and he would not forgive himself for that, even if he felt he was making the right decision.

"Such an offer cannot be rushed into." It showed that she was uneasy about this . . . about accepting something so large when it had been disputed over for so many years. "I've had my scribes draw up an agreement," he said as he pulled out the document that he had initially needed Geoffrey's aid with. "If you're happy with the terms, I'll sign forthwith." They were terms that would benefit Nemeth, and give total ownership of the lands to her. But to ensure there was no conflict, he would wait for her to read it over and ensure that everything was well agreed upon. "And if I refuse?" Would she? Arthur could not blame her if she did, for it would be a matter of pride. "It's all I can offer. I do so most humbly," he said as he bowed his head and looked down, still extending the scroll to her. In her moments of deliberation, Arthur found himself holding his breath though his outward persona was calm. He knew this could cost Camelot a war -- along with Helios and Morgana's joint attack. But . . . he could not change his mind.

"Tell me . . . who is it that trumps a princess?" She knew. She knew the reasons of why he was doing this. "No one." A bit of a lie. A pensive moment passed as he decided that he needed to be honest with her . . . that she deserved honesty. "And everyone." He could see a flicker of a smile on Mithian's expression as it seemed to soften. Would she be as understanding as Elena once was? For he certainly did not want her to leave on bad terms . . . but again, knew she had every right to be angry with him. "What great family is she from?" Guinevère. Mithian must have known it was her . . . and must have assumed she came from rank, title and position. But that was not something else Arthur was going to lie about. He never felt ashamed to be in love with a servant . . . and he was not going to lie to make it seem so. "None. She's the daughter of a blacksmith," he revealed, in a bit of a lighter tone. Once again, she seemed surprised to hear this, and who could blame her.

Kings did not fall in love with daughters of blacksmiths . . . but that didn't lessen the love he had for Guinevère. "And for her you would risk your kingship? Your kingdom?" He knew that that was what it came down to; risking Camelot. "Without her, they're worth nothing to me." True words, spoken with sincerity. Without Guinevère, none of this mattered. He didn't know if this meant that he and Guinevère would be together. He did however know that he would rather hope for that moment, then allow it to vanish from his life. That he would rather remain single and a bachelor for the rest of his days . . . than marry a woman he did not love. There was a short passage of silence, before Mithian spoke again, averting her gaze from him. "Hm. I would give up my own kingdom. To be so loved." It was at that exact moment, that Arthur felt completely confident in his decision. That he knew for certain, he was doing the right thing by both of them.

Mithian deserved to find that kind of love -- just as Elena did. Mithian deserved to be with someone who could love her, who could give her his whole heart. Not a man who would always love another more. No. She did not deserve him; she deserved far better. For the poor way he treated her now . . . he knew that his treatment of her would be worse, if they got married because emotionally . . . he could never give her his whole heart. "Farewell Arthur." Arthur gave a slight smile, relieved that she seemed to be leaving in slightly better spirit than before where she had been walking down the stairs without a word. "Farewell, Princess," he said softly. With that, he watched her mount her horse and ride off with her small army of escorts. Arthur continued to watch her, until she rode out of sight. He had done the right thing. And should this bring about war on Camelot . . . then so be it. He had made a decision based on his heart, rather than his head. And that was the kind of king he strived to be.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère was packing a bag. She had not yet heard of the plans for a wedding, for she had not left Merlin's chambers. Merlin came by early that morning, but then he had to go to work. Once he left, Guinevère had rested and began preparing to leave. That was when Rosa hurried in, and told her Mithian was leaving! Guinevère felt surprise and confusion. So many questions filled her! Why? Was the wedding postponed because of the impending battle?

It was some time later that day, when Guinevère grew bold enough to leave Merlin's chambers, and face everyone. She knew all would be staring at her, and most were indeed. It was enough to make her want to go back to Merlin's chambers. Turning back she slowly made her way there, but stopped when Agravaine came out of the rooms looking displeased. She paused and ducked back behind the wall.

After a moment she peeked her head around the corner to watch him disappearing down the hall. Forcing herself to move quickly and quietly, Guinevère followed him, trying to see where he was going, and why he had just been here. She didn't know much about spying, or following men, but she knew not to trust him, and that he was dangerous.
Yet she was doomed to disappointment. He returned to his chambers. Guinevère watched the door silently shut. Turning around she began walking down the halls, trying to decide what she should do about Arthur's uncle. It was then she turned the next corner and came to a stop seeing Arthur walking toward her.

[Arthur Pendragon]

The day had progressed . . . normally, he supposed. There was still so much on his mind. Guinevère was in the city, and while he had not sought her out, he wondered if she would stay. He knew he couldn't exactly rush back to her when he was so uncertain about everything . . . but he felt as if a weight had been lifted in not marrying Mithian. His uncle expressed his support in the decision . . . which made Arthur a bit skeptical. If he truly was allied with Morgana, then he would be glad that Nemeth and Camelot were not allied for their forces would be far stronger. He didn't know whether he could believe anything his uncle was saying . . . but he couldn't confront him. He couldn't tip him off for if Helios and Morgana were coming, and if they truly had the siege plans, then Camelot's only defense that would place them at an advantageous position, would be the element of surprise.

The very thing that Helios and Morgana had been hoping to use against them, they could not use to their benefit. Unless . . . they changed it because they knew Guinevère was here. Arthur was just uncertain of everything right now, and he didn't know who to turn to; who he could speak to this about. He decided to keep a close watch on his uncle, and the next time he rode out . . . Arthur would follow. If his uncle was a traitor, then telling him what Arthur knew would only tip Agravaine off. Besides, he had tried that and Arthur wasn't sure he could bare to hear his uncle his Ygraine's name again to swear by . . . when it could all be a lie. For the moment, he was on his way to the lower levels of the castle to check on the siege plans. Now was the best time to remain inconspicuous so that no one would wonder why he was going there. Trying to find the most discreet route, he decided to go down the hall where his uncle's chambers were . . . and . . . well, Arthur would be lying if he said that he wasn't spying on his uncle.

Keeping an eye on him; keeping a very close watch on the man. Though when he was about to turn the corner, he nearly bumped into someone. Not just someone . . . "Guinevère?" He questioned, slightly confused by her unexpected presence, though made sure to keep his voice low. "What are you doing here?" Why was she in these halls where . . . Agravaine was. It seemed that she too was keeping a close eye on him. Which, was extremely dangerous for her to do so. Hearing footsteps that must be the guards, Arthur gently pulled her arm back around the corner of the more underused hall they were now standing in. "You shouldn't be here." Because if she was caught spying . . . then who knows what his uncle would do -- IF Guinevère was right about him.