A Cry Of Warning [Guinevère & Her Arthur]

[Guinevère]

"If I were to marry another, it would have been Princess Mithian." He liked her then? The princess whom he had almost wed. Guinevère wondered about her, about who she was as a person and . . . . and other things he should not be wondering. She was jealous, and she knew it. She had no right to be, and would never speak nor act on it, but she was. "I will not marry someone I do not love." Surprise covered her features and she watched Arthur's face for a moment.

He might not have a choice, for one day he would need an heir. In this he had less freedom then the lowerclass did. She could not marry ever, and be alone in her missing of him--but Arthur needed someone of his blood to carry on his title. "Whether you are in Camelot or not . . . it makes nothing easier to bare." Closing her eyes, she felt the tears build, but she would not let them fall! No! She could not. When she could open them again, her eyes hesitantly sought out his. "Do you want me to go, or do you want me to stay?" She asked, knowing he had offered her to stay because she had done the kingdom 'a great service' but she wanted to know what Arthur wanted, not what he felt he should do.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Do you want me to go, or do you want me to stay?" That question was not so easy to answer. He loved her, he knew that much. And he wished that it was enough to give a simple, clear cut and certain answer. But it wasn't. It wasn't because . . . it was not that easy. Their relationship had only become easier this past year, in terms of being together and accepting that they could be. Before then, it never had been simple to easy . . . and now, it was just getting more and more complicated for reasons that he never would have imagined. "I want you to be safe." And she would be safer -- or at least safer -- in Camelot. He had seen what could happen to her if she was sent back out there. Who's to say that Helios wouldn't hunt her down and make her pay? Or even Morgana.

"I would prefer you stay." He wanted her to, he truly did but at the same time . . . he didn't know what that meant for them. "I can not promise you anything Guinevère," he added in a low voice. He couldn't promise her a future together, even if he couldn't see his future with anyone else. He couldn't promise that they would get back together, even though he didn't want to be with anyone else. He couldn't pretend that everything was as it once was, even though he wanted nothing more than that. He didn't know if wanting her to stay meant that he was giving her false hope . . . but he also knew that just because he was not with her, didn't mean she would be alone. She had friends, family here. It was better than her being out there by herself and while he could not regret his decision to banish her, he regretted what happened to her. Somehow, there was a difference.

[Guinevère]

He wanted her to stay, but he didn't want to be with her. She could understand that. Should she stay then? She could return to her home, take up being a seamstress so she could avoid the castle and his daily life. Not make it harder for him by being forever before him. Could she live like that? Not sure long, but it was safer here. Perhaps she could spend some time working here and then work on a better plan.

Because one day he would need a wife and a heir. There was no doubt about how much he needed one with Morgana claiming the title. "I will stay for a while," She told him softly, "But I think that you will need to find a wife one day Arthur, you will need children--" Now was she going to cry, because they would not be her children. Not her sons. Nor daughters. "--and you will need an heir. You desive that. I will not stay if I think that will give you pause in not seeking it out."

Because he had been going to marry Mithian, but changed his mind upon seeing her. She thought leaving would help him move on again--though it would break her heart completely while doing it.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She said she would stay, and Arthur found himself rather relieved to hear that. To hear that she would be here and remain safe in Camelot, rather than go back out there and risk the danger that may be awaiting her. When she spoke of how he needed to find a wife, of how he needed children and an heir . . . he remained silent. It was true, that he did need an heir if he was to stabilize the future of Camelot -- for he could not let the kingdom fall to Morgana. But, how could he marry someone he did not love? How could he have children with her, when his heart would always desire another? His heart may have been broken, but it was still there. And he felt the emotions of it every time he saw Guinevère.

"I would rather remain unmarried, than offer a woman a future where I can not give her my whole heart." Because it was not fair to her. Mithian had spoken of how she would give up her kingdom to be so loved . . . and that had been when Arthur knew that she deserved better than what he could give her. "Even if you do not stay, then I will still not marry another." He knew that much for sure. He had made that decision already and whether she stayed or left, it would not waver. Nor did he want her to think that it would to the point where it would make her feel like she had to leave. Besides, he had already humiliated enough women -- both Elena and Mithian -- and he was not going to make a habit of it.

[Guinevère]

"I would rather remain unmarried, than offer a woman a future where I can not give her my whole heart." As would she, yet Guinevère had more of the freedom to not marry and have no one rely on her. Arthur had millions of people looking to him. They needed the safety of knowing that Morgana would not take the throne after Arthur had left them. They needed a One True Heir. Someone to believe in. "Even if you do not stay, then I will still not marry another." He might not have a choice.

"Perhaps one day you can meet someone to change your mind," She said softly, almost sadly for this conversation was breaking her heart. Yet she had done this too him, and if it killed her, she would help heal him. Arthur would be a great father. He would be the best father she could think of, and he deserved that chance. She was only sorry that it was not her that was able to give it too him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Perhaps one day you can meet someone to change your mind." Is that what she thought? That it would be easy for him to just, meet someone else? He rose from the chair, for some reason needing to establish a bit of distance between them . . . because it was getting harder and harder to suppress his emotions. While he never had to worry about showing his true emotions to Guinevère in the past, he couldn't afford to demonstrate that vulnerability now. Instead, he walked over to the sealed door, casually leaning against it and purposely avoiding her gaze. "Do you have so much doubt in my feelings for you?" He wasn't sure if he meant that as a rhetorical question, or one that begged for a response. Is that what it was? He didn't make her feel loved enough? She felt more loved and in love with Lancelot? If that was so, then Arthur wished he'd done more to show her how much he loved her.

He knew that he had made mistakes. In times early on in their relationship he told her that they could never be because his father would never understand. Or other times when he grew too reckless in wanting to be with her, and her father nearly had her executed. Or more recently when he told her that being with her was inappropriate. He wasn't perfect. And all he could do was focus on making up all those things to her . . . but he thought he had forever to do so. He didn't realize that their time together would be so limited. Maybe that was what it was. Maybe she felt more loved, more secure, safer with Lancelot. He had tried to understand her reasons for doing what she did, if she claimed to be so sure in her engagement to Arthur . . . and his brain continued to come up with answers, or at least attempt to.

[Guinevère]

Arthur got up and walked over to the door. Guinevère wondered what he was thinking about, and his words surprised her. "Do you have so much doubt in my feelings for you?" "No!" She said softly, then repeated it louder, "No, I have never doubted in where your heart truly was." She told him, "But since the beginning of this, there has been something I was certain of . . . " Something she had known in her heart.

"And that is that the only thing you would do better then being a knight or a king . . . would be to be a father." Her tears did finally fall as she spoke, warm drops slid over her cheeks and she reached up to wipe them away. "I know that in my heart. That you would be the perfect father to a son or daughter one day. And my actions have cost me the chance to be their mother, I know that. But they should not cost you your chance. I want you to be happy, and to have that family that . . . " That she could no longer be apart of.

"It's not easy for me to say things like I did, I don't want to . . . "Think of him with another, yet saying that was unfair being her actions had put her with another. "Do not let my weakness, cost you more then it has." She asked of him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She said that she never doubted where his heart truly lay, and he was glad for that. But also wondered if it was fully truly. Her words were all spoken with such sincerity . . . in the way that Guinevère always spoke, and still he found it difficult to hear. She claimed that he would be a good father, and that was not something he was sure of. He had wanted children so badly, because he'd planned for those children to be with her. Together, he knew they could raise them for they would have their mother's strength of heart and guidance. That was why he wanted children. Not because it was necessary for the kingdom, or because he simply wanted someone to lead the knights . . . he wanted to create lives that resulted from that love he and Guinevère had. And now, that seemed so hard. Without having to look at her, he knew she was crying. And he hated to see her so, but there were no words of comfort that he could offer her.

"Marrying another woman, and having children with, will not substitute a life with you." He didn't know what he wanted, which was why he could not promise her a future together. He could promise that he would not find a future with anyone else. "I can not . . . settle, for another woman. Not when I . . . know I can never love her as I love another." Love. Not loved. He still loved her. He always would. And for whatever reason, he wanted her to know that he could not just push aside that love he had for her. He could not just be with another woman for the sake of having a family. He knew that no good could come from these words . . . but they came out anyway. Perhaps it wasn't wise to confess them, but he doubted anything he said could cause more harm to their relationship. "If you were me, would you be able to do so?" Had the situation been reversed, and he'd betrayed her . . . could she honestly tell him that she would be able to find happiness in another man? He knew that she could, for she had chosen Lancelot that night . . . which was why he had emphasized the part of seeing it from his perspective.

[Guinevère]

Arthur spoke of love, and not being able--or wanting--a life without it. To love her but to not be able to look at her. She had truly taken so much from him and she didn't even know why! How far she sank down when she went to see Lancelot that night, and the worse part was . . . was she didn't even know why she had gone there. Why she would have wanted too.

"If you were me, would you be able to do so?" No. The answer was clear and true and unspoken. She only paused to think, so that she could give him an answer that was longer then a simple no. She wanted to explain her heart. "There is no one else I have ever wanted to marry, no one else that I would." Because she loved him, and without him there was nothing.

"I did not mean for it to end like this. To take so much from you." She hated herself for her actions. "I am sorry." So very, very sorry.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She said that there was no one else that she would have wanted to marry . . . and he wondered if she was solely talking about if she was in his position, or if she meant the words under her circumstances at well. Which, wouldn't make sense considering her actions of that night. How she had gone to another man on the eve of their wedding; on the last night they were to be separated, for they would be joined in holy matrimony the next day. While he knew that she loved him, and couldn't let himself doubt that much . . . he knew that there was another above him. If Lancelot wasn't dead, would she have started a life with him? Would they have been married by now, able to act on their desires without his interference? "I did not mean for it to end like this. To take so much from you." Arthur forced himself not to look at her so that he could keep his emotions under better control.

"I am sorry." She was apologizing for everything. For that night. For what had happened. He could hear her apology and accept the sincerity of it, but he wondered . . . if she would have felt sorry had she not been caught. "Would you have been so, had I not walked in?" He asked, speaking aloud one of the many questions that nagged at his mind. Would she have told him? How long would she have been in Lancelot's arms? Would they have continued to do this after their wedding the next day? He had so many questions about that night . . . and yet was finding it difficult to ask them. Because he feared the answers. Because he wasn't even sure she could give them to him.

[Guinevère]

"Would you have been so, had I not walked in?" Yes! She at least hope she would be but the thoughts she had that night frightened her even now. They had not been her's, but where her's at the same time. Things she had never thought before, and things she had never thought since had filled her. Feelings stronger then before and almost unrecognizable now had filled her and taken over where that was all she could be, all she could think. She'd never been so completely consumed by a single though as she had in the hours of that day and night.

Never since. "Yes, I think I was even sorry the moments it has happening. I know I said before but--" Her voice broke as she paused to clear the tears from it and not sound like she was crying. "--But I didn't love him, not like I should have to be there. Doing that. I was just so over whelmed with emotions that I couldn't handle. I couldn't even think properly for a moment and when I could, the emotions went away too . . . The madness of that night . . . . . I hate myself sometimes for it." Hated her weakness.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur wasn't sure what to think of her answer. That she was sorry. That she had been thinking of him while kissing another man. Did she think of Lancelot whenever Arthur had kissed her? Whenever he'd, made love to her? The thought sent a pain through him, an ache in his heart to think that he'd been so inadequate that she felt the need to be with another. To seek out another's arms the day before they were to be married. He'd thought that they had committed themselves to each other long ago . . . but it was just one of the many things he'd been terribly wrong about. He wished he could believe that she had just been overwhelmed. Had it been a whim of the moment . . . maybe it would have been different. But they had purposely set a time to meet in the middle of the night. She had sneaked around the castle to meet him. The castle. That was something Arthur had never quite understood. Why had they met in the castle?

Why not her home? He never quite understood why they chose within the walls of his home -- what should have been his and Guinevère's home -- to betray him. "I thought you would have come to me. I thought that . . . if you were feeling overwhelmed, or confused, then you would have talked to me about it. I would have given you time and space Guinevère." If she had doubts -- which she claimed she didn't -- or worries -- which she also claimed she didn't -- then he would have prolonged the engagement. Indefinitely if that's what it took. "I just wish you would have been honest with me." But instead of coming to the man she had agreed to marry, she had acted on those overwhelming emotions . . . in the most hurtful way possible. And he still didn't know how to deal with that. She said she hated herself, and he didn't want her to feel that way . . . for he knew that she was a good person. That the only one she had wronged, was him. But it was difficult to offer her comforting words when there was so much between them.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère heard him talking about wishing she had come to him, but it had not been like that. Not sure her. "It just happened," She tried to explain, "When I first saw him, and then we all the dinner I didn't feel anything but glad to see him. There was no confusion. I knew I wanted you, just as I had known for years. It was not til that day, just before." She knew that she had never told him about going to Lancelot's tent, and she never would.

He hated her enough as it was. She didn't want to hurt him more. "Before that day, there was nothing. Whatever happened . . . I can't explain it. It was as if in that day . . . " It was just that day. Just those moments, and then everything went away. "When my head was clear, after wards . . . It feels like I was someone else in those moments. I am sorry, Arthur. I am so sorry. I know that it's horrid that I cannot even explain those moments to you, but it's true. It was as if just that day I just . . . . was someone else."

[Arthur Pendragon]

He wanted so badly to believe her when she said that . . . whatever feelings had caused her actions, had not arouse until the next day. For he feared that night. Had she wanted to be with Lancelot? Welcome him home properly? He was not proud of the way he had acted when seeing her embracing another man, for in that moment -- had she not stepped between them -- Arthur would have killed Lancelot. He had never felt such an intense anger before. Anger and . . . jealousy. "But you weren't," he said, stating what they both already knew. "You weren't someone else. You were just . . . not mine." Though even now, he was still hers. He knew that. No matter how much he tried to move on, he couldn't. How could he walk away from the woman he loved? How could he be with the woman who betrayed him? It was a horrible conflict of emotions, and he didn't know how to deal with them. He didn't know how to act on them.

He didn't know what to do. There were so many things he wanted to know, yet those same things he could not bring himself to ask. This may be their only conversation for some time. Was it better just to say it all now? Or were all these things better left unsaid? He wanted to ask if it was worth it . . . worth everything for that moment in his arms, but he knew his words would just come out bitter and jealous. Because, her actions proved that it had been worth it. That she would risk and sacrifice her entire relationship with Arthur, for a single night -- or moment -- in Lancelot's arms. Is that how strong her love for the other man was? Is that how little their relationship was worth to her? He hated these bitter thoughts consuming his mind and made sure to keep them back, not wanting to lash out at her. They had the entire night to spend together . . . and he doubted that sleep would come easy for either of them.

[Guinevère]

She knew there was nothing more she could say--and everything more she wanted to try to say to convince him. Yet she didn't want to hurt him more. "I loved him, once, yes. A long time ago and in a different way. I did not think of him like a woman should think of man for years! The year he lived close, I did not think of him like that." As a friend, yes, but not as a man and not with her whole heart. "Not like how it was between us."

She wished that their thousands of moments, would mean enough for him to have faith in her a little more and believe her when she said these words. And she wished she could ask that of him. Yet she would not. Not while she was in the wrong. Apart of her wished that when Arthur left her that once, the time when she was not appropriate, that he had not come to his senses. She would have still been broken hearted, but at least she would not have hurt the man she loved above all, so very, very much.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur would be lying if he said he hadn't considered that year that Lancelot had served as a knight. Arthur had no doubts or insecurities about his relationship with Guinevère. He'd trusted the woman he loved, and the man he called brother. Never, would he had expected either of them to betray him. And even to this day, he couldn't understand it. Had he had witnessed it with his own eyes, then he wouldn't have believed it. "Then how did you think of him?" He asked. It had to have been more than friendship, it always had been judging from their late night tryst. Her relationship with Lancelot was not just as a friend, not like it was with the other knights. He doubted it had ever been like that, it surely always had to have been something deeper. Something . . . that Arthur had just been completely blind to all this time. He had no worries when Lancelot stayed in Camelot to serve as a knight; he'd had no worries when he was engaged to Guinevère and Lancelot returned from the dead. And in the end . . . perhaps he should have been more concerned. Then he wouldn't have had to make her lie, had he just granted her the opportunity to be honest with him.

"Don't, compare how it was between us." He knew what she meant, but he didn't want to hear any comparison or contrast. She had made her choice that night . . . and it had not been him. Yet, his choice was and always would be her. Her above all others. Did that make him foolish? Naive? Weak? He didn't know. He only knew that after having rejected a marriage with Mithian, he was inevitably considering being content with being Guinevère's second choice. "Of all the things that threatened to tear us apart, I never would have considered this to be one of them." His father had come between them, the laws had come between them, death had nearly come between them, his own insecurities came between them -- in terms of doing what he thought was best for the kingdom -- but never, never did he think that another man would come between them; not to this extent, not in this way. That day in the woods, he and Guinevère had not exactly been together and he knew he had no claim on her. He had taken a step back when he saw what was between her and Lancelot. But to know that even after all those years, after all that he and Guinevère had been through . . . to know that she still would have picked Lancelot no matter what, devastated him beyond belief.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère closed her eyes and wished that he didn't see it as her choosing another over him or that she saw another as better then him. That their millions of moments did not mean less then her one fatal mistake. Yet she could not speak up against him, for it had been her failure and speaking up for herself felt wrong. Yet she knew that there was never anyone she loved more then the man before her. Never.

And he'd not believe that. She had destroyed whatever he had once seen in her. Their ever moment of being together, every touch, every kiss, every night, every time that she turned to only him for comfort . . . She knew they meant nothing to him now. That they did not mean more then that one mistake that one night. "When I do compare . . . you are miles apart from every man i have ever known. And I know i destroyed that between us, but please believe that . . . If nothing else"

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur wanted to believe her. So badly. More than anything. He wanted to know that he was first in her heart, for then he would not be doubting so many times that she told him such. He would not have to doubt the extent to which she said she loved him, and never loved another in the same way. He hated disbelieving her words, but her actions contradicted them . . . in the worst way possible. Instead of coming to him, she had gone behind his back, who knows how long -- or how far -- things would have gone had they not been caught. And that just added to how hurt he felt by everything. "I want to believe it," he admitted in a low voice. That he was not hurt and angry just for the sake of it; that he wanted to believe everything she told him. That he wanted to try to move past all this . . . but it was so hard to do so.

"I told Mithian that this kingdom, that nothing is worth anything, without you." He wanted Guinevère to know why he had sent Mithian away, but still knew he could not promise her anything. He could only promise her that he would never love another: not emotionally nor physically. "I just, don't know how to move past this." He felt so defeated, so confused, so uncertain of many things. And where as she had always been the woman who he had gone to for advice and council . . . she was now the woman who he was at tension with. And knew he could go to no one to seek their advice; not even Merlin. Because some things were just too painful to discuss with others.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt her heart skip a beat at his first words, and the same heart slow and hurt at his later words. What did that mean for them? Anything? Would he have married Mithian had she not shown up half dead? She wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer. Very afraid. She wanted to believe that he would not--but what right did she had to do so?

Where did that leave them? The whole answer depended on Arthur. On how he felt and how--if ever--he could move--or not move--past her actions that night. "Their is no pressure for you to decide or do anything tonight. I will stay at my father's home for a while, and if you cannot forgive me then I shall go to Longstead. With Mary." So he would know she was safe, and their would be no pressure for him to fear for her safety. In truth, she wasn't sure she could stay there, but she knew that she could not stay here and see him every day.

[Arthur Pendragon]

While he knew there was no pressure to decide tonight, there was still pressure. He didn't want to give her false hope, yet how did he tell her that he didn't want to be with her? He didn't know what he should do, and he didn't know how long it would take him to decide. He did know however that he didn't want her to put her whole life on hold for him. "Your presence in the city should not be dependant on my answer," he told her. Even if they weren't together, he didn't want her to base her future around what he decided. It wasn't fair for her. "There are other reasons to stay here," he added. Her brother, her friends . . . more reasons than just him if he decided that they could not be.

"I can promise you that you will not have to watch another woman take the throne next to me." That even if they could not be together, she would not have to see him marry another. She had encouraged him to do so before, claiming that he deserved it, but he would not . . . he could not. If that had been one of her reasons for not wanting to stay in the city, then she need not worry. For he had given his word to her, though he wondered how severely trust was tarnished between them.