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Post by Guinevère on Jun 15, 2012 13:30:46 GMT -5
Guinevère could hear him walking beside her, the heavier steps that men often made. She almost walked to turn and look back at him to see if he was real or if he was just something she was dreaming. Yet she knew that he was no dream, for her arm still felt warm where his fingers had grasped.
He spoke of his uncle's box of letters, and Guinevère tried to recall if she said anything personal in them--hoping not. " . . . as ones I had sent for you." His words made her look back at him for a moment, wondering why he would send her a letter. They had waited for each other for years, until he became king and then it he could no longer be with her. "I am grateful then that he at least did not tell Morgana about Amaren." She said softly, trying to think of something else to talk about with him--something about their son and not about her.
She wanted to tell him she was sorry about his uncle's betrayal to him, but with everything so close to her right now, words were coming easy from her lips. She wanted to say so much but the surprise and emotional tormoil from seeing him again made most of them fade before they could go from her mind to her lips.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 15, 2012 13:48:44 GMT -5
She didn't react to him revealing that he too had tried to contact her, which only made him think that she didn't believe him . . . or didn't care. For it was not enough, and he would have to find a way to properly explain himself. Her words however told him a great deal that provided him with immediate relief . . . and that was Morgana didn't know. Which meant Guinevère and Amaren had never been targeted or in danger because of her. He was sure his uncle had his reasons for not tell, and they were far from innocent ones. "As am I," he said in a quiet voice. Though couldn't help but fear that Morgana would find out.
Because if it was to be known that the king had an heir . . . then it would be one more person for her to target. And he could not protect his family out here . . . not that he had earned the right to cal them that. "Have you, been well?" He inquired, just wanting to make sure that she felt no threat from Agravaine. As well as find out if the village had suffered an attack. And apart from that . . . wished to know if she had a safe delivery, and if their child was healthy. With one question, he wanted to know so much but feared she would not answer with such detail.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 15, 2012 15:44:30 GMT -5
Arthur asked her if she had been well, and Guinevère wondered how to answer. She did not want to lie, but nor was her life meant to trouble him now. "Well, thank you for asking." She settled with before returning the question to him, "And you?" She had heard most the rumors that came from the city, but it told her nothing personal about the king. She had often wondered how he reacted to reach things.
Freeing the Druids, defeating Morgana, his uncle's betrayal. She worried for him yes, but she had been angry at him too. Now it seemed she had less to be angry for. He had not ignored his son. she believed that. The emotions on his face were too real and open, and she thought he honestly did not know. Yet he had known where she was, or could have found out easily as she had not hid her location.
Amaren was half servant and half royal blood. Arthur had once held her rank against her, and she feared what that meant for their son. While Arthur was not an evil person, she didn't know how far from the man she loved he had kept going.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 15, 2012 16:29:49 GMT -5
"Well, thank you for asking." So formal and lacking detail. Arthur had feared as much. She was holding herself back from him, for this was not how they would usually converse. One question or word and Guinevère would give the most detailed answer possible. He had once thought her talkative ways had been irritating, but soon he had come to adore them. And now . . . he missed them terribly. He missed her. He missed them. And all that they once were. "And you?" The true answer was miserable. But he was not one about to delve into how dark and lonely everything had been. For he doubted that was the answer she wanted to hear.
"Fine," he answered softly. Some would constantly asking him how he was doing -- especially after everything that had happened -- and then there were those who were just awkward in his presence as if they didn't know what to say or whether to ask. Her question however, just felt like she asked out of courtesy; to be polite by returning the question he'd asked her. And he knew better than to ever burden her with things, as she had already been through far worse things than she deserved.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 15, 2012 17:19:59 GMT -5
His answer told her so little, and she felt a bit disappointed. She had . . . . but he wasn't her's to worry about any longer. Guinevère knew the rumors, that Lady Vivian was in Camelot. While she knew Arthur had not truly loved Vivian at the time, she also knew that Vivian was of royal blood and that seemed to matter to him. Guinevère didn't want to think of the children he could have with the other woman but she knew that when the day came, everyone would know it.
Some news took it's time spreading over the land, other news seemed t be like wildfires. They touched and jumped and burned everything in it's path.
When they silently reached her home, Guinevère paused at the door to see if anyone would notice him here. Suddenly her idea did not seem so good. Yet it was still early and most were in the farm lands they tended. Even if he entered, his horse would here as a sign to all. Her home was small, not quite as large as the one that had once been her's in Camelot--which now belonged to Elyan--and was on the edge of the village.
"There is a post on the side for you to tie your horse too," She told him, hoping that since the day was early and most where busy that none might notice a horse on the side of her home. "Then you can join me inside." With that she turned and walked in.
The inside of her home had a table in the center, with one side curtained off into her small bed chamber. Then the other side held a small wooden bed, low to the ground and more toward the fire for warmth but not close enough to catch fire. Little wooden carved toys that did not move or bend were scattered on the floor and Guinevère began to gather them quickly so the place would not look like a mess. She paused when she reached what looked like it could have once been a dragon before the head broke off from over play.
A king's son with servant's toys. She felt so aware of ranks since Arthur had left her. Painfully aware and she hated every thought that crossed her mind when she never used to think of them as things that really defined who people were.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 15, 2012 18:13:45 GMT -5
As they neared the village, and her home, Arthur found himself growing nervous. He didn't know how their conversation would go, but knew that whatever direction it did go in . . . at least they were able to have this moment. Good or bad, Arthur couldn't bare the thought that she believed him to have ignored her these past couple of years. He gave a small nod as he lead his horse over to the post and tied it there. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he he then went toward Guinevère's home, slowly opening the door before fully entering. He closed it behind him so that they could have a bit of privacy and that no prying eyes or ears would be near them. He took the opportunity to look around her house, his eyes scanning over it, and noticing the small children's toys. Toys that he should have gotten for Amaren. Just as he should have properly provided for her.
He was so eager to see his son, yet knew that he and Guinevère needed to talk first. Whether it would resolve anything or not, he was unsure. But this was necessary and non optional. "This is a nice home," he began, his voice non judgmental for his words were genuine. It was not just a house, it was a home. It had that warmth and coziness to it. Just as her home in the city had. When Arthur had first stayed with her, he thought her home tiny and impossible to live in. Then it became quaint, and then . . . he had become fond of it. Attached to it. Because it was Guinevère's. Wherever she was, was a home to him. Which was why the castle had grown cold and dark ever since the night he had gone to her and told her that they could not be together any longer.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 15, 2012 18:46:43 GMT -5
"Thank you," She said quickly, putting the toys in the small bed and then walking over to the tall cupboard she opened it and pulled out a paper that was old and folded. She looked at it a moment before walking toward him and holding it out to him. "Your uncle's letter to me." The one that had come from 'Arthur'. The handwriting had been forged to even look like his, though now she wondered if she looked at it, if she would be able to tell the little errors.
The read was short, no greeting, only a signature of Arthur and above that a few short lines. The first thanking her for information his of his son's birth. The second telling her that when his son reached of age that he would come for him to take him in and under his house. The last told her she need only write should she require coin to keep him raised as a prince should be raised.
"It was the only reply I ever got." She explained, knowing that if he saw the letters then he knew she had tried to tell of his son. She could have tried harder, she knew, but before Amaren was born she could not travel--the early months because of the illness of mothers and later because she was too large--and after he was born . . . she had been a afraid of loosing her son. "The only letter that ever made it here." He said he had written, this was all she had received.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 19, 2012 20:45:27 GMT -5
Realizing that she did not wish to make small talk or have a casual conversation, she passed him the letter to read over. Arthur took it in his hand, bracing himself . . . but no amount of preparation would have readied him to read the words on the page. Feeling like he needed some sort of support, he leaned against the edge of a nearby table, reading the cold and detached words over and over again. Offering coin and threatening to take him when Amaren was of age. For many moments, Arthur said nothing. He just looked at the forged piece of paper in his hand . . . in disbelief that someone that he had lovingly called uncle, was capable of doing such a cruel thing. "I'm sorry," he said in a low but sincere voice. He was sorry for many things. "I put my trust in the wrong people." And it had cost him. It was one thing to let his naivety last for a night where he told Guinevère they could not be together and then storm off to a war.
But it was a whole other situation when he had been deprived of the knowledge that he had a son, and when his son was deprived of a father and Guinevère . . . deprived of the support she should have been given. "And I never wanted you, or Amaren to suffer because of it." That had never been his intention . . . nor would it ever be. He may have found out about his son only a matter of hours ago but he already felt a strong love for him. "And for what you have endured . . . " His eyes slowly went to hers, forcing his voice to remain steady and forcing his tears back. "I am truly sorry." For having relatives that seemed so set in destroying Arthur's life and all those he cared about. And Guinevère and their son, had payed the price for it.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 19, 2012 21:06:04 GMT -5
Guinevère could see on his face that this was hurting him, and he affected her heart more then she wanted it too. "You could not have known." She said quietly feeling unused to saying words of comfort to him for she had not seen him in over two years. She knew that she could never keep him from his son's life, but she also knew that he had not wanted her for his wife. Not thought she was of proper blood line, at least. This was going to hard and complex for them all.
So she would do her best to make it easier for them, but she also knew that she had spent two years broken hearted and missing him. That is had not been his uncle that broke her heart but Arthur himself. "The past is behind us now." She said trying to make is seem like she was stronger then she was, but even she could tell she wasn't fooling anyone. Guinevère's emotions had always been skin deep and there for all to see. Only a few times had she been able to hide them. "The best thing we can do for Amaren now is find out about the future." Would he demand she move home? What would happen then?
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 19, 2012 22:06:34 GMT -5
"You could not have known." That was all Arthur had ever heard. You could not have known. You are not to blame. They do not hate you; it is envy that drives them, etc etc etc. Arthur didn't believe it. Any of it. It was not pure coincidence that a woman he had called sister of his heart long before he knew they were sister of blood wished him dead. As did his uncle whom he'd known all his life. No. There was something more to it. Something that . . . he didn't understand. And that was why it kept happening, over and over again. He did not believe that the past was truly behind us, for the rift between them was still there. But she was focusing on the now, and that was something far easier to discuss than delving into the painful past of what caused such a strain to their relationship.
Arthur's eyes fell back to the letter in his hand, wishing he could burn it. After a few moments of pensive silence, he knew he had to ask something. But also did not wish to pressure her either way. He merely wanted to know what her plans were . . . though it may be too soon to tell for they'd been reunited for only a short while. "Have you ever considered moving back to the city?" Arthur asked in a low voice. Had she ever thought of it before? Obviously after Amaren was born since she could not travel while she was expecting. But still. He wondered if the thought had crossed her mind . . . or if she was completely content with staying here in Longstead.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 19, 2012 22:21:51 GMT -5
"Have you ever considered moving back to the city?" He asked her in a low voice and she felt her heart jump, knowing the answer. No. No she had not thought about moving back to the city, for the was the single-unwed mother of a king's son. She had feared for her son, and not just from strangers but from the Arthur she had no longer known. One that tried to be his father rather then follow his heart.
Now it seemed she had more to fear then she thought. Not from Arthur but his family. "No," She admitted, "For many reasons. I had to be what was best for my son, above then all." And he was safer were she could protect him from the harshness of life. Though she wanted nothing more then to give him a father--his real father--in his life. He was coming to that age where she would need that guidance. Guidance that only Arthur could, and should, give him. "I do not intend to withhold him from you." She wanted him to know, so he would not fear that from her.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 19, 2012 22:48:10 GMT -5
She said no with so much certainty . . . that he wasn't sure how she felt about that. No. Did that mean she did not think of ever seeing him again? Or that she never wanted to see him? Had he thought of her more than she of him? He knew that asking these questions would do nothing but open the conversation to painful heights, and he didn't want to do that. He of all people had difficulty talking about his emotions . . . and all that had happened in the past few years -- even though they weren't together -- was still difficult to come to terms with. That they had a child together, yet Amaren was more Guinevère's than his. While Amaren may be of Arthur's blood, he'd not yet earned the title of father. For a father was not merely one who helped bring a child into existence, but one who was there when it was brought into the world. Who was there to hold and comfort him when he cried. Who was there to change his clothes whenever he had an accident and help bathe him. Who was there to make silly faces and play silly games, if only to introduce the child to a world of laughter. That, is what a father did . . . and Arthur had done nothing, apart from the action that created a life in Guinevère's womb. While Amaren may not remember these years without a father, Arthur would never forget them.
He remained silent once again, her latter words were ones he was already sure of. He knew by her persistent urging in the letters she sent him that she had no intention of withholding Amaren from him. But Arthur had his concerns, and he wasn't sure how to phrase things. She seemed happy here; content. And he didn't doubt that Amaren did too, for he had the most loving and caring mother any child could ever hope to have. "I trust your judgment Guinevère," he began to say. Even if she lost trust for him, his trust for her had never wavered. In all that was uncertain in this cruel world . . . his love for her was something that he was always sure of. Even when he had acted against his heart's desires. "Would it best for me to . . . not burden you and Amaren?" By keeping his distance or by not revealing he was his father. There was nothing Arthur wanted more than to see his son, and be the father that he hadn't been these past couple of years. But is that what Guinevère wanted? Especially now knowing that Agravaine had known, and that meant Morgana could find out. Was this life in Longstead what she preferred, as oppose to one where there was a risk to the heir of the king? He had to be sure before he proceeded with anything. Because if Guinevère was happy here, and felt safe in this life . . . then he didn't want to ruin that for her.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 19, 2012 23:03:22 GMT -5
Guinevère was surprised in his words, offering to stay away if that was best. She knew that Arthur would hurt for the offer if she accepted. He would do this? Not see his son? "A son is never best without his father." She told him, knowing that even while Uther had many faults he had been a good father. Loved his son and raised him--somehow--to be a good man. When he followed his heart at least.
"I said I would not withhold your son from you, I meant it." She told him softly, not trying to fight about it but so he knew she wasn't doing this for any one reason. "Amaren is . . . . Amaren is your son. I don't know what that means for the future, or for him or for anything . . . . But I know he deserves to know his father." Arthur deserved to know his son. "In a few months or a year's time he will not even recall a time without you in his life." Children's memories were short, and that could help him gain his son if he feared never being in his life as he should.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 19, 2012 23:49:36 GMT -5
"A son is never best without his father." While Arthur believed that too, their circumstances were . . . different. His involvement in Amaren's life would inevitably endanger him. After all, how many times was Guinevère targeted because of Arthur's love for her? For any royal -- especially a king -- their greatest strength and weakness was their loved ones. For their enemies took advantage of how vulnerable that king could be, when the life of someone they loved hung in the balance. But he would rest assured with her answer . . . and pray that the day would never come where she regretted allowing him into Amaren's life. He also knew that with this, came the issue of him being the heir of Camelot. But that was not something Arthur would bring up right now. He was still young, and still had many years before he was of age. Besides, that was not what was most important to him. He cared more about seeing his son and making peace with Guinevère, than he did legitimizing Amaren's claim to the throne when the time came.
"Thank you," he said again, his voice equally as soft as the first time he had expressed his gratitude for her. After everything that had happened . . . she was allowing him to be a part of Amaren's life, even if she did not want him as a part of hers. "We do not have to make this public then." For now anyway. If she had no plans to move back to the city, then he did not wish to inconvenience her until she knew for certain what she wanted to do -- if she didn't know already. "If it is easier, I can come here to see him." Arthur was more or less asking for her permission, trying to figure out what the best arrangement was. In the city, both he and Guinevère would be easily recognized. Out here, they were a bit more isolated and had a bit more privacy. Until they knew how to proceed . . . it could be a suitable arrangement. He was only trying to think of the least inconvenient thing for both Guinevère and their son. And this seemed to be it.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 20, 2012 0:06:14 GMT -5
She knew that not claiming his son would not last long. Arthur would wish to have his son close as he grew. How could he not? What parent could be parted from their child?
He offered to come here, but she knew the risk was too great--for a kingdom with a king that disappeared so often would be commented on. She could not have his kingdom suffer because she was stubborn to cold. "I do not know anything in this moment," That would be easier for them.
"A king can not have so many unclaimed hours in his life," For she knew how busy he was. Had seen it and lived it. "Perhaps there is a place closer we can meet." A meadow or farm house that they could use. Someplace close enough for visits but far enough from harm. "Amaren and I often go on walks, we could easily meet you closer and allow you more time with him without having to explain where you are."
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 20, 2012 16:08:08 GMT -5
Arthur's mind went over her suggestion. It was true that as king, his absence would be noted. Even now, for he had not told anyone where he was going or when he would be back. But that was not what was foremost on his mind right now. "I would not want you and Amaren to stay too deep into the woods," he explained. Though he knew that she most likely already had, it was different . . . somehow. He didn't want her to endanger herself by wandering the woods unescorted for his own sake. "Perhaps we could pick a set a day each week. I can come here and we can go somewhere near the village." Far away enough in case she didn't want anyone to see him -- since he wasn't sure if anyone would recognize him here.
But close enough so that Guinevère and Amaren would not have to travel too great a distance. Arthur would think of an excuse. For he did not see any other choice. The only flaw in his plan was that he would only get to see Amaren once a week. It was not nearly enough, especially after he'd not seen him in two years. Perhaps he would try to come down a couple times a week . . . but for now, once seemed to be the most realistic. Part of him wished he could ask her to return to the city, but he knew there were far too many complications with that. And he could never be that selfish. "I will be able to come. You need not worry about that." He would find a way to come see his son, and her. But right now, the focus was Amaren . . . not them.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 20, 2012 17:06:15 GMT -5
Guinevère knew that they were making plans that would not last. She lifted her hand to run her finger though her hair before they both came to rest on her belly. "You would then see Amaren only once a week." She reminded him, knowing that he would wish to see him more. What parent would not?
"It is too early to make plans, we need to both think about things before we can decide on how we need to do this. For now, we should plan only our next meeting, and on that one we can plan the next one. This way we will know what we want, and how often we need it." Besides there was something about to happen, "Amaren will be here by the noon hour, I should have the mid-day meal ready for him." Which meant that he would be home soon, and she should begin to cook. She paused for a moment almost holding her breath, "Would you like to dine with him?"
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 20, 2012 18:09:18 GMT -5
Everything felt so formal, that he dare not argue with anything she said. He only gave a bit of a nod when she told him that it was too soon, and that they would plan the meetings one at a time so that there was no long term commitment. The fact that he could not even determine when he was going to see his son again . . . was a thought that caused him great pain. He was a father now, yet he did not feel like one. He would return to the castle and have to pretend like nothing had changed with him. He would have to return to being king, though wondering every moment of every day what his son was doing. He was probably walking now, which meant that Arthur had missed that pivotal moment in his development. Was he talking too? What else had he done? So many questions and yet . . . Arthur felt like he could ask none right now. For it was clear that Guinevère had a wall up and he was not going to try to speak unnecessarily. After all, today had been quite a shock to both of them.
"I do not wish to impose," he told her. While he wished the three of them could sit here and eat together, as a family should, he knew it would not be like that. "I should just like to meet him and then will inconvenience you no further." And hopefully, they would be able to plan their next meeting. Plus he would not have that nagging thought in the back of his mind, that everyone would be wondering what happened to the king. "If you need to prepare his food, do not let me stand in your way. I'll just . . . " Arthur's eyes looked around the room, wondering what he should do. Should he sit? Stand? Wait inside? Outside? Never had he felt so uncomfortable in her presence . . . to the point of not even knowing what he should do when things were always so casual between them. "Did you need any help?" He knew she could take care of herself, and he was quite a rubbish cook . . . but never the less, he felt the need to at least offer. Even if he felt a bit strange for asking.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 20, 2012 18:37:22 GMT -5
His words of impose and inconvenience you no further were hard for her to hear. They were talking about his son, not a stranger. "It's your son, Arthur. Imposing and inconvenience are not words I would even think to use right now." She told him softly, Not wishing him to think that she thought him being here was an annoyance. she did not, even while it hurt her heart to have him so near.
"Did you need any help?" If it would help him she would let him. "There is some meat in the wraps on the counter, you can cut some bread for a few sandwiches. You just have to make his much smaller then you make yours." Because she was assuming he would eat with his son and just in case, "He would eat better if the adults eat too." She used the excuse so that Arthur would be able to eat with his son without overly worrying about imposing or being an inconvenience. "There is a knife near the window."
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 20, 2012 19:14:43 GMT -5
He was relieved to hear that much, but even if he was not imposing or an inconvenience to their son . . . he could be to her. For he still was unsure how she felt with him being here. Yet once again, knew that this wasn't the appropriate time nor place to ask. When she gave instruction he followed them, and headed over to the window to take the knife. Seldom did he ever do this . . . but surely he could cut slices of bread from a loaf. It wasn't like he was trying to cook a chicken. Once he had the knife, he took the loaf of bread and set it on a wooden board on the kitchen counter, and made sure to make the slices small when cutting them . . . for their son. "What does he know of his father?" Arthur asked, a question that he was extremely curious about.
Did she tell Amaren anything about him? Or were some things better left unsaid? He assumed Amaren did not know of his birthright -- of being a prince and future king. But did he know his father's name? Or anything about him? Did Amaren feel abandoned by his father? He was only two but children could easily feel such things. While Guinevère said that these years would not stick in Amaren's mind, they would forever remain in Arthur's . . . knowing that he couldn't do anything to get those two years back, as well as those months of excitement and anticipation where Guinevère carried their child. He had missed that and even now, he didn't know what was going to happen, or how often he would be able to see his son.
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