A Cry Of Warning [Guinevère & Her Arthur]

[Guinevère]

His decision would affect if she stayed or left to find a new home. For she could not see him every day, and know he was no longer her's to touch and to love. Yet she would not place that burden on his shoulders. Ever. IF Arthur found it in his heart to forgive her one day, then he needed to do it knowing that she didn't expect it of him. That if all he could one day offer to her was forgiveness and friendship, she would accept.

Tomorrow was another day, and they could talk about these things over and over tonight but . . . it was still too soon. Even she could see that. For a long moment she only looked at him, before looking down at the maps and reaching one hand out to touch one. What did she dare say? What could she say? She wanted to say everything. She was afraid to say anything.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur wasn't sure what to make of her silence. He wanted to ask what she was thinking about, but knew he didn't have a right. She would tell him if she wished, but he could not push her to tell him. It was not his place anymore . . . and he wondered if it had ever been his place. For she had clearly kept a great deal from him. He slowly sunk to the floor, his back rested against the corner of the wall he had positioned himself in and his knees propped up. "You should get some sleep," he told her, for she was still recovering from her injury. He only wished she could be resting in more comfortable quarters. He should have just walked her back to Gaius' chambers, and not dragged her here with him. Now she was forced to stay in the cold lower levels of the castle, and all he had to offer was his jacket for warmth. Frustrated with himself, Arthur looked at the door, as if staring at it would somehow magically will it to open.

Or will someone to be on the other side to open it for him. He knew they would not be trapped here come tomorrow, but the thought of Guinevère not resting comfortably, and not to mention the thoughts of what his uncle was doing right now . . . were strong in his mind. Were enough to make him wish the door would miraculously open so that she could get a good night's rest, and so that he could continue to keep a close watch on Agravaine. And instead . . . they were in this room together. If nothing else, it had given the opportunity for them to talk, but he wasn't sure they had resolved a single thing tonight. His words had only brought tears to her eyes and her words threatened to do the same to him. He'd managed to suppress them -- for now -- but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère heard him tell her to get some sleep, and she looked over at him as he slid on the floor. She was wearing his coat for warmth, and he had banished himself to the cooler side of the room. She could think back to times when a cool night meant her crawling into his large bed, and finding it warm in his chambers. After Arthur had retaken the the kingdom from Morgana, and saved his father and his people from her and Cenred's immortal army, they had both not slept well.

Until she started staying in his bed. Most nights, Arthur had only held her. Though . . . there were a few rather cold nights when they would press close for warmth, and she would feel him pressing to her hip, and she would kiss him . . . and neither of them would feel cold for hours. She had spent almost every single night in his chambers since then. Wanting to be with him rather then anyone on this earth. She had helped him removed his armor, and made sure he was fed. She had helped wash the dirt from his face, and ease the burden that was growing on his shoulders.

For that year, and the year following his father's death she had been his wife in heart if not in name. Been given the honor of taking care of the man she loved while he took care of so many others. She opened her lips to speak but then nothing came out. Finally after sitting in another long silence she pushed to stand, and moved her chair right under a touch. It would be warm here, and she would not need his coat.

Moving slowly, as her let still was sore from her recent injury, she approached him. Pulling the padded jacket from her, she draped it over him like a blanket. As she pulled back, her hand brushed his hair slightly. "So you don't grow cold over here." Then she turned to walk back to her chair, knowing that the heat from the touch would fall on her and keep her from growing too cold in the night.

Yet nothing would hold back the feeling of loss she already felt now that his scent did not surround her.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur watched her as she moved her chair closer to the torch and then walk toward him. He wasn't sure why, but he felt his heart beat stronger in his chest with every step she took toward him. Just staring at her, knowing that if things had been different . . . she would have been his wife. They would have made do with a night trapped in the lower levels of the castle, perhaps had some fun with it. But now, they were just two people. Two people who cared for each other. He just stared at her as she draped the padded jacket over him, as if a blanket. He didn't want to take it from her, for she needed to stay warm more than him. And he could easily survive the night without it. It was not so much that, then the intimacy of the action. She draped it over him, and then her hand brushed his hair back. A gesture that she had done many times in the past, whether it was in a soothing manner, or just because. He loved it, for it gave him such a strong comfort . . . and now was no exception. When she turned, without thinking, he raised his hand and took hold of her arm to stop her from leaving, and slowly urge her to turn around. He didn't know why.

Maybe it was to tell her to take the jacket back, but no such words left his lips. Instead, he just looked up at her, uncertain as to what expression was in his eyes. Not anger. Not hurt. Soft longing perhaps. A bit of a sadness, but not from her actions . . . from not having her close to him. His hand slowly trailed down her forearm, wondering if this was how close he could come to holding her tonight. He wanted to pull her closer, and yet knew that it may only hurt them both in the end. And at the same time, he could not release her arm. He wanted her near, because he loved her. It should be as simple as that, but simple had never been part of their relationship. Within these walls, he wanted to think of nothing else. And knew . . . this was part of why he had sent her away. Because having her near was too painful, for even now, he wanted to just ignore everything that happened, and just be with her. Just hold her, and tell her he loved her. Was it so hard? Why was it so hard? Unable to speak, even to justify his own actions, he just looked at her, unable to even determine if there was a question in his eyes or not. He just didn't know anything anymore, apart from how much he loved her . . . for that would never change.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère was about to walk away but she felt his hand on her, which made her not only pause but turn to look into his eyes. Even in the darkness she could still see how blue they were. Open and honest. His fingers trailed down her arm, and she had to repress a shiver of awareness. She had not felt his touch in so long and to feel it now--in a non-rejecting way--made her want to fall to her knees and beg him to hold her for just tonight. Hold me, Her mind tried to speak the desperate words but her lips would not move.

She could stare at him, trying to read that look in his eyes. What did that look mean? As his fingers for to the end of her arm, she turned her palm so their hands intertwined. Guinevère was afraid to look away from his eyes however, not sure what moment would be lost if she did. Though she knew any advance or first time had to come from him, for she had wronged him and he had to be the one to give what he could. She could not push him for more then what he was able to give her. Yet she wanted too. She wanted to, and her eyes never hid anything from him well.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Words were not always needed between them. Even in these moments of uncertainty, of doubt . . . they didn't need words to see the love in each others eyes. Hers conveyed the same, which was why he had never doubted she loved him; just not enough. But those thoughts were not what were surfacing for if they were, then he would not have stopped her from walking away. Then he would not be silently pleading with her, not even knowing what he was pleading for. Confusion did not flicker in her eyes though . . . instead, she gave him in a small dose what he wanted, or needed in this moment. She returned the gaze and held his hand in her own. He looked at their joined hands, thinking of how close he had come to losing.

He could have lost her. That arrow could have killed her. They could have never had this moment; the last words he would have said to her were ones of apology after banishing her. He would never forgive himself if that happened . . . and knew, that he was wasting time. He was wasting his life. Lamenting for a woman who was right here. That was what he wanted to think of tonight; not that she had nearly died, but the realization that life was precious. That he knew there was no one else in this world for him other than her, and perhaps it was selfish of him . . . but . . . he could have lost her. With his eyes still on their hands, he slowly and gently pulled her closer toward him, still not using words to explain what he wanted . . . but rather, actions. Which was nothing new, it just felt stronger in this moment after being so distanced from each other, both in a physical and emotional sense.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt Arthur pull her closer to him, and she felt both her heart speed up and her breathing slow. Her eyes didn't leave his, as she stepped a few small steps closer so she could slow kneel on her good kee before him. Her other knee was lowered but her weight rested in the stronger one.

Her hand not holding his lifted to touch his cheek, as they stared at each other. She wasn't sure what was happening but she hoped that he didn't stop. If this was just a moments weakness then she would take it and embrace it. Hold him close to her for however long she could. Letting his hand go she moved both her hands around his neck in a embrace. Holding him close she said nothing.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur's eyes remained on their hands, until he noticed her begin to shift, moving to her knee. He had not failed to remember her injury or where it was located on her. Yet he did not immediately move to give her comfort. He was too entranced in the moment, having missed this, and everything about them; everything about her. He wanted to pretend, just for now, that they not have obstacles to overcome to problems to sort out. That it was just the two of them, locked in a room. He wanted to take care for her, protect her as he had failed in doing so before. It took him several moments to let this thoughts register enough to actually take action, for in the time being, he was just staring into her eyes that he had missed seeing so much. And when she brought her hand to his cheek, that familiar yet long absent soft touch of her hand was enough to make his heart feel like it was beating all the faster.

It was such a small gesture, and yet so huge at the same time. His eyes remained locked on hers, even when she wrapped her arms around him. He wanted everything to be different; not awkward and not uncertain as to whether they could touch each other or even dare be so close. As his knees were propped up, he moved his legs down so that they were on the ground and then very slowly -- cautiously and hesitantly as if trying to see if he was crossing a line that he shouldn't be -- he moved his hands to her waist and proceeded to slowly and gently pull her to him, shifting her on his lap at a side angle so that the pressure would be off of her wounded knee. Such an intimate position . . . one they had not been in for the past few months. Having her seated like this now, felt so right, maybe not in his mind but certainly in his heart.

[Guinevère]

Arthur pulled her closer and onto his lap. Guinevère looked up into his face as he did so and wondered what this meant. She knew better then to think it meant promises, though she wished it did. She wanted to speak, to say anything, even if only his name in a whisper--but she dare not break this moment. She needed it too badly to risk breaking it.

Her heart needed this too greatly. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, as he held her, looking down at her face. Reaching up, she brushed some of his hair back from his face liked she once did. Such golden hair. She had come to love the looks of it. Miss it when he sent her away. Her eyes fell to his lips, and for a moment she wished she could lean forward and kiss him--but as she looked back to his eyes she knew that that first would have to come from him. She could not take more then he would give.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur did not miss the way her eyes darted from his lips back to his gaze. He wondered if she knew just how much he wanted to kiss her right now. How he had longed for nothing more than to be with her. Every time he entered a room, his eyes would seek her out; every time he returned from a journey, he would anxiously hurry to his room to see her; and every time he did these things . . . he was faced with the harsh reality that she was not there. And at the time, hadn't even know if he would ever see her again. But here she was now, with him. With her head rested on his shoulder, he wrapped an arm around her, across her shoulders, to keep her close to him. He knew he shouldn't be doing this; that he shouldn't be playing with either of their emotions right now when they were both so fragile . . . he couldn't help it though.

He was tired of fighting it; he was just tired of fighting.Fighting against Morgana; now fighting against his uncle; fighting against other enemies like Odin and Helios; Arthur didn't want to fight against Guinevère either. He did not want to fight against what his heart wanted more than anything else. He leaned forward to rest his lips on the top of her head, closing his eyes and taking in everything, his senses so heightened in this moment. The way she felt under his lips, her scent . . . everything. He just wanted to hold her like this, to be with her, to tell her he loved her . . . and at the same time, hoped that she knew all this despite his actions and failure to voice them right now.

[Guinevère]

Arthur moved forward to place a kiss on the top of her head and her breathing deepened, as she closed her eyes. A single tear from each eye fell over her cheeks as she did so. Guinevère had missed him so much and even these touches and single kiss was making her wish she could change the past and be strong enough to stand by him.

"Arthur," She whispered, finally finding her voice, but only being able to say his name in the softest of whispers. Guinevère wasn't even sure that he would have heard her. Her hand came up to fist into his shirt, holding him closer in case his whispered name broke the moment. She breathed in slowly and deeply as she took in the scent of him. Something so casual but she missed to so much in the cold and lonely nights that she had not had him close for. Both the ones in the past and the ones yet to come.

[Arthur Pendragon]

The silence was broken by her whispering his name, but it was in no way a disruptive breaking of the silence. He didn't know what to say or do when he otherwise would have been so confident in his actions and even his words. He felt her hand fist into his shirt, and it only encouraged him to wrap his arm around her more, as if afraid to let her go . . . again. Though he knew he should. He knew that this wasn't right, and the thoughts of how unfair he was being to both of them screamed in his mind even more when he moved his hand to cup her chin. Gently tilting her head upward as he lowered his own head a bit to look directly at her. They were not that far away, even less so when he slowly began to lean forward. He shouldn't be doing this, but his love for her was stronger than anything else.

Stronger than the pain he felt in what she had done, stronger than any reasoning that he could easily come up with as to why he should not do this. For once, he would not be honorable in his actions; he would not do what was best for everyone. He would be selfish, and let himself steal if only a small kiss. Which is what it led to as the distance closed as his lips were just barley brushed against hers. It was a gentle embrace, feeling the softness of her lips that caused him to close his eyes and just sink into the perfection of how she felt, and how right this all felt . . . because he could think of it being no other way.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt his hand on her cheek and watched his lean forward. Her breath caught and held until his lips touched her own, and then it gasped in slightly. The kiss it's self was light and delicate, and far too soft. Yet it was enough to awaken her heart all over again, and while she knew that hoping for things would only leave her heart broken in the end--for she had betrayed him in the worse way a woman could betray a man--but the hope was there!

Knowing that it could go no where, Guinevère reached up and touched his cheek, extending the soft kiss for another moment longer. Needing just another second of the taste of him on her lips before she knew that reality would have to come to one of them. For it it did then then they would both be broken hearted by the time dawn came and someone could come looking for them.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She was not pulling away from him, which he took as an encouraging sign, though he did not move the kiss toward senseless passion; but rather, kept it soft and tender. He didn't know what this meant, but he did not bother trying to minimize it. He loved her and that could be known regardless of how soft or passionate his kiss could be. He only feared for the moment that it would end; or tonight would end. And they would be forced to live separate lives. He slowly brought the kiss to a close, but did not pull very far from her. Instead, he rested his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes closed and letting himself feel all the emotions he felt whenever she was near. This time, more good than bad. And he knew it was because he was forcing away the bad; letting himself live in a world of denial. Which was why he knew this was all so very foolish, but he wouldn't trade this moment for a moment of rationality and reason.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, meaning the words in so many ways. Physically, he didn't want to lose her. Emotionally, he didn't want to -- though he had a feeling it may be slightly too late for that. And still, surely their relationship could be redeemed? Or were they just truly not meant to be? He kept his eyes closed, knowing that tears were threatening to form in them. In all the time she was gone, he had suppressed all his emotions, as she was often the one he went to to express them. And now, they were all unleashing themselves in an overwhelming way. What emotions he had suppressed, he'd kept bottled up and now . . . now they were getting ready explode, and he couldn't let them. Though it was getting increasingly difficult to do otherwise, for he was never able to lie or conceal anything from Guinevère.

[Guinevère]

"I don't want to lose you," He whispered, and Guinevère knew that she could not answer with out making a promise that neither could keep. In this moment emotions where high, but she knew that this wasn't a promise on his part, she still felt the hope inside her--and braced for the heart break she knew would come because of that hope.

Moving to wrap her arms around his neck, she hid her face from his with her hug. She was unable to look at him and not reassure him with promises. And she could not make any with out them being proved false. Guinevère knew he had not just meant by her death, but it was the only way she could take it and answer it without such a promise. "I am far from harm here. You need not worry." Yet with his uncle here, they were all in some danger, and she only hoped they could stop them before anyone was hurt or killed.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She nestled closer to him, hugging him as he went back to putting his arms around her. He wondered if she knew what he meant by his words; that he meant them in more than just the physical loss of her. But he dare not elaborate . . . not when he couldn't even find the right words to speak right now. It was a wonder he could say or do anything at all, for had been feeling greatly conflicted. And while he still did to some extent, he knew he was just letting himself embrace the moment. The joy of having her back; of having her safe. Along such thoughts, his hand moved to her leg where the wound was, and ever so gently, rested his hand over it, the fabric of her dress in between his touch and the injury itself. "Does it hurt?" He asked softly, wondering if she was in pain from it.

If Gaius had medicine for her which she did not have on her right now. They would be forced to spend the night in this room, and he wished she could have a more comfortable place to rest and sleep as she was still recovering. At the same time, the more selfish part of Arthur was glad for this time together. For he knew that it would have been difficult for them to be in the same room together under any other circumstance. He only wondered how it would be once they left this room; if the memories in here would be just that, or if it would be a way of starting to make amends . . . or rebuilding their relationship that was so strained.

[Guinevère]

His hand moved down over her to come to rest lightly over where the arrow and embedded it's self into her leg. "Does it hurt?" he asked and her first answer was Yes. It hurt to be this near him and not be able to really do more then hug him knowing it could well be the last hug she ever was allowed. Knowing the last kiss was the last she might ever receive from him.

"It's sore," She admitted, "But less so every day." Unlike the pain in her heart. "I will live, thanks to you and the knights that day." Had they'd not been there then she would have died for Helios had been closing in around her, and she feared the though of them catching her. What they might have done with her either as punishment or against Arthur. "I was so surprised to see you there . . . . I forgot even that I was being chased . . . If I had been smarter, I'd have thought to keep moving until it was safe."

[Arthur Pendragon]

When she said it was sore, Arthur wished even more than he could somehow get medicine to her. But knew that right now, they were stuck. The most he could do was help her rest, and hopefully get some sleep despite the uncomfortable room. He moved his jacket off of him and draped it back around her, for she needed the warmth far more than he did. He knew that the her injury was his fault. Whether it be because he had banished her, or because she was targeted by his enemies. He was only relieved that it had not claimed her life, for he did not know what he would have done if that had been the case. "You were being chased for some time Guinevère," he said, not wanting her to think her actions foolish. He remembered perfectly well how she had looked when he'd first seen her; exhausted, disheveled and completely out of breath.

"You had to stop at some point." Even if it was just to rest, though he wished it had not been an arrow that ceased her actions; he wished he could have protected her better and yet knew . . . that there had been no other choice but to banish her in the first place. "I only wish we had found you sooner." When Helios wasn't so close; close enough to release fire. He knew that he had said that she was to return on pain of death, and his uncle had conveniently reminded him of that fact . . . but he would never be able to carry that through. Nor did it make him wish they had not crossed paths sooner so that he could have done more to save her, before she was injured.

[Guinevère]

"You were being chased for some time Guinevère," Days, she had been running for days in order to reach close enough to the city to get help. Her greatest fear was not being able to make it, or finding his uncle first. "You had to stop at some point." No, she could not have stopped. "I rested some at night. Though not well." She admitted, trying to soften the idea for him. She didn't want Arthur thinking about it.

"I only wish we had found you sooner." "I am only glad you found me when you had, and I was able to tell you what I saw. That was all that mattered to me. Not letting Morgana's plan work. I knew that even if it was hard to hear, you wouldn't just dismiss it. You would look into things, and protect everyone from Morgana's newest plan to claim her false title." She had faith in him! She had known Arthur would not just ignore his friends if someone came to him and told him that they knew this. That he would at least look into this.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He could imagine how unwell she had rested that night. For when on the run -- and on your own -- it was no easy thing to find sleep. For your body and mind never quite relaxed. It was always on edge, always waiting for the slightest sound that would prove as a constant reminder of how you were being followed. And thus, leave you having to always be ready to make a run for it. So he had no doubts that she hadn't rested well, and could only hope that for the rest she had lacked these past few days, she would well make up for now. Because she was safe here. Because he wouldn't let Agravaine, or Morgana, or Helios lay a finger on her. "I know that you would not make accusations about Agravaine if you had no evidence." He knew his earlier words may have sounded like he had . . . but it was denial. It was not wanting to believe that his uncle was a traitor that had caused him to doubt her words.

Deep down, he knew she was right. Even if he had lost trust for her after that night, she was not malicious or vindictive and she would never make up such an outrageous lie about Agravaine. So as the truth was slowly sinking in Arthur's mind, he fought to hold back the devastation and sadness over having yet another relative and someone he dearly loved, betray him. "Thanks to you, Morgana will not be successful in her plan. I can not thank you enough for the sacrifices you have made and the risks you took in returning." To him. Though maybe her intention had not been to come to him specifically, and that would be understandable as he had not exactly made it sound like he wanted to see her again based on their last conversation. But he was not oblivious to how much she'd risked in telling him . . . for it had nearly cost her her life. And Arthur would never exchange her life, for that of Camelot's.