Echoes Of Who We Once Were

[Guinevère]

Guinevère watched as Arthur moved around the small house and pretended to look for Amaren. The child's laughter would come whenever he looked in the wrong place. It made her more aware of her home and how Arthur had first reacted to her father's home all those years ago when he stayed with her for the joust, when he was Sir William. Her home now was small and while filled with things, none of them grand.

She wasn't being fair and she knew it! Yet his words that night had hurt in ways that changed her awareness of who she was and what she was allowed to have. Guinevère was fighting to keep them from her thoughts and not let them change who she was. Years later and his words still burned into her mind.

Turning she held the meal in her hands as she sat it on the table, but before she could make Amaren come out, he crawled out from the other side of the table and then jumped at Arthur! 'Boo!' He yelled in his high pitched tone filled with glee at out smarting the adults!

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had just been kneeling there when all of a sudden, Amaren came charging at him. Arthur did not let his weight interfere with Amaren's intentions, so that the young boy was able to tackle Arthur with ease. It caused Arthur to fall to his back, putting his hands under Amaren's arms. Before . . . he had been unsure as to how the child would feel about a stranger playing with him in this manner. Now, he no longer had any concerns. "You got me!" Arthur stated with exaggerated surprise so that Amaren would not think he was faking such an enthusiastic reaction. Arthur was still on his back, and keeping his hands under Amaren's arms, Arthur lifted Amaren up into the air and smiled up at him.

To see his son smile and laugh, and to be able to play with him in this way . . . it was more than Arthur had ever hoped for. While it could not bring back the past few years, it was a wonderful start to the future years . . . where he would be sure never to be absent from Amaren's life again. "And now I got you," Arthur told him playfully. He began to very carefully toss Amaren in the air, though Arthur's grip on him was firm and his hands were not parted from under his arms for more than an inch. He did this action repeatedly, enjoying the musical laughter of his son. For there was such an innocence and purity about a child's laugh . . . and Arthur found himself wanting to hear it as much as he could.

[Guinevère]

Arthur and Amaren were falling back and Guinevère paused to watch them play. Amaren's laugh filled the house and made it feel almost as if it was more so a happy home in these few almost complete moments then in the two years she had been playing with him alone. She felt the urge to join them, and come up behind Amaren to tickle him and make this little moment more then just a fond one, but a strong one for her and Arthur.

Yet instead she found herself sitting the plates on the table, and putting them before chairs as she poured water into cups--making Amaren's only half full so he would not spill it. Then she took her chair and watched, them play. When side by side she tried to see how much of Arthur was in Amaren. She was a shorter woman, and Arthur a tall man. She hoped that Amaren got his height from his father, and that as Amaren grew into a man and lost the baby cheeks and size that he would began to appear more like Arthur.

She found herself laughing with them at their play, and watching them still. She would tell them later that the meal was ready. Let them play for how long they wished today!

[Arthur Pendragon]

The sound of their son's laughter was so addictive, for he wanted to hear it again and again. And when he would leave here, it would be what his heart longed to hear: Amaren laughing. He was such a beautiful baby and it would always leave Arthur in awe at how his and Guinevère's love had created a life . . . such a perfect baby boy. It filled him with a gratitude to her that he could not describe in words; a gratitude and affection to the mother of his child. He loved Guinevère with all his heart, yet somehow loved her even more now. How was that possible? He wasn't sure, and didn't even know if his thoughts were accurate in what they were telling him. He only knew that he wished he could thank her. He wished he could hold her and kiss her and tell her that she had given him the most precious and incredible gift that this entire world could offer. She had given him a child. Arthur paused in his actions when he heard another laughter fill the room. Even mixed with Amaren's, Arthur could recognize it perfectly. A soft laughter, another kind he loved to hear and had longed to for so long.

He looked at Guinevère, seeing her beautiful smile and also just now realizing how much he'd missed that . . . especially since he was unsure if he would ever see her again. He didn't know what expression was in his eyes as he looked at here, but there was a soft longing there . . . a pleading in his eyes for something he could not explain. He knew he didn't deserve her forgiveness or trust . . . so he wasn't entirely sure what he was silently begging for. But how could he look at her and pretend like he didn't love her; pretend that he wasn't sorry. Pretend like . . . he didn't want to be with her, and be a proper family. Arthur's attentions were diverted -- causing him to break his intent gaze on Guinevère -- when he felt a small hand smack his nose. Arthur wrinkled his face a little at Amaren's gesture, for it seemed the boy was demanding Arthur's full attention. "I think lunch is ready," he told Amaren, carefully throwing him up in the air just once more before Arthur swiftly rose to his feet. Keeping his hands under Amaren's arm, Arthur swooshed him in the air, much like how he had made the wooden dragon toy move, until he got to Amaren's seat, where he gently set him down on it.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère saw Arthur look up at her and for a moment, she kept laughing. Then slowly the look on his face sobered her, in an almost painfully longing sort of way. She wanted to run to him, and holding and be happy . . .

But the knowlage of how happy they had been, and how suddenly he had left her and never once come looking for her broke her heart. It made her afraid for the next time someone reminded him she was but a servant, and for the the test they would face together or not. It would come.

She did not look away fro him, and she wasn't sure of her own expression toward him as her smile faded and everything she had been with holding--the fear, her own longings, and the loneliness she had lived with for years--came to her face.

Then Amaren saved her, braking their gaze and letting her mind clear in the time it took them to come to the tale. "I not hungry! Play! Play with me!" He protested as Arthur sat him down. "You can play again after you eat some. Growing boys need lots of food to make them taller and stronger." She told him, and watched as Amaren seemed to be watching 'Papa' to see if he ate. "There is small bites and after lunch you can play again."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Initially, Arthur had thought that he would just meet Amaren and then be on his way. Now . . . he felt that not even all the knights of Camelot's strength would be enough to pull him from within these walls. With his son and the woman he loved. How would he return to the city? How would he survive the next few days, unable to see his son and Guinevère, knowing that they were here. Hearing Amaren say Papa . . . filled Arthur's heart with a joy that he never even knew possible. One that was only felt when a man became a father. Unfortunately for him, he was two years too late. Well, technically three. "Your mama's right," he agreed, sitting down on the chair near Amaren, where his place setting was. "If you want to be a brave knight, then you have to eat." He then began to break a small piece of Amaren's sandwich off, and popped it in his mouth.

While Arthur's experience with children was limited, he was assuming that children often wished to do what they saw others doing, and was hoping that that imitation . . . would encourage Amaren to eat something. "Oh wow. This is so yummy, I think I may eat all of it if you don't hurry and eat some!" While Arthur's own sandwich was sitting there, he was just trying to get Amaren to eat his which was smaller and more manageable for the young boy to chew. Breaking off another small piece, he held it in his hand and moved it around in a wavy motion to add a bit of fun to eating. "Now what sound do dragon's make?" He asked him, and when Amaren replied with "Rawr!" He kept his mouth open wide and Arthur was able to put the small piece of his lunch in it.

[Guinevère]

Watching Arthur seemly pick up on how to handle children--his son--made her heart swell. This was not some stranger nor refugee child that he paused to comfort for a few moments but his own flesh and blood that he now sweet talked into eating. That he was now tricking into eating as well.

She lifted her own and took a bite, while watching them. Amaren seemed to think Arthur was going to steal his food for his hands came down over it and then reached for Arthur's plate. 'Eat yous!' He demanded in his childish tone. Taking the whole top bread he lifted it up to Arthur, 'Rawr!' He said while trying to get Arthur to eat!

"Amaren! That bite is too big for him!" She told him, not in a 'your in trouble' tone but more 'amused and reminding' sort of way. 'I cut it! Dropping the bread on the table Amaren reached for a fork near by and tried to cut the bread, though only ended up mashing it. "Sorry," Guinevère told her, knowing that this was ruining part of his sandwich, and she reached for the fork but Amaren pulled it back, looking concerned and frightened she would take it from him. He dodged toward Arthur calling out with, 'Papa!' as he sought protection!

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur tried to suppress a smile when Amaren moved protectively over his sandwich . . . before going toward Arthur's and separating the top layer of bread. Before he knew it, Amaren was mashing it all up to tiny bits and Guinevère was apologizing on his behalf. This time, it was more difficult to hold back a smile and an amused one formed on his lips. "It's alright," he assured Guinevère, not wanting her to feel the need to apologize. "He made it bite size for me," Arthur said jokingly. For he could never find fault in anything his son did . . . when he was trying to 'help' him by making his food smaller and thus easier to eat. When Guinevère tried to take the fork from his grasp, Amaren's eyes widened and he moved toward Arthur. How on earth could he resist his precious son?

He no longer possessed the strength to keep him at a distance -- for even this was too much -- so instead, lifted him from his chair and he sat Amaren on his lap. Arthur then moved his hands forward, one of his own fingers enough to cover all of Amaren's fisted hands. Arthur held the bottom of the fork where Amaren's fingers were not wrapped around it. "Thank you for cutting my sandwich," he told him, in a tone that seemed to be praising his efforts. "But you should give this to Mama, so that you can finish your food," He added, not yet pulling the utensil from Amaren's grasp, but just waiting for him to release it.

[Guinevère]

'I do it!' Amaren told Arthur after he had lifted him into his lap. Children had a way of sometimes opening up to strangers so completely and is surprised Guinevère. Yet she knew that if he grew tired or frightened then he would seek no other then her arms. She hoped that did not happen for in these moments Amaren could give Arthur more hope then Guinevère could.

Watching as their son used both hands to turn the fork and stab some of the meat on Arthur's plate before trying to lift it. The meat feel from the fork but Amaren tried again, and again. 'I do it!' He yelled even as no one was trying to take it from him any longer. When he finally got it on the fork, he turned to hold it up and sent it toward Arthur's mouth even as the bit was too large to fit. It fell before it reached Arthur's lips, landing on his shirt. It only made Amaren laugh.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur smiled as his son stated that he would do it -- rather adamantly do -- which told Arthur that he dare not interfere with his son's attempts. And soon enough, his determination paid off . . . somewhat, for the food just ended up on his shirt. Something else that made Amaren laugh out loud . . . and Arthur's heart swell with joy at hearing him express such amusement. Arthur picked up the piece of meat from one end, holding it up in the air with a funny expression on his face. "Thank you," he said in a playful tone, as if suggesting he wasn't sure what to do with it. Not wanting to discourage Amaren's efforts of getting it to him in the first place, Arthur broke off a small piece of the meat. "I'll eat some," he stated as he popped it in his mouth.

"And now you eat some," he informed Amaren, holding it to his son's lips. It felt so wonderful, to feed his son. Less than a day ago he didn't know he had one. He'd been living his life, uncertain as to whether he would ever have children, or ever marry. And now . . . here he was. Sitting with Amaren, and though he'd only been in his son's company for no more than an hour . . . it felt nearly impossible to imagine a life without him. So strange, how it could change so quickly . . . how easy it was to adapt into this role. He knew that it was only because it was his child with Guinevère . . .not that he'd been so intimate with another woman. He loved her, and he wasn't sure what this meant for them . . . but he knew that either way, Amaren was well taken care of and extremely loved.

[Guinevère]

Amaren took the bit that his father gave him and then bounced as he ate it and looked at his mother. He did not even seemed to remeber that he should be smug, as he only look pleased that he was here and playing while eatting when before his mother often tried to get him to not play with his foods. Something new often humored children, and she hoped that he stayed excited for it and not grew tired and fussy.

Amaren normally had a nap after lunch, and she was waiting for any sign of tiredness so she could help stop Arthur's first meeting from being anything but perfect. 'Again!' He yelled while trying to 'feed' his father again, but more food ended up everywhere but in Arthur's mouth. "Be easy, Amaren!" Guinevère softly reminded him, as she reached over to remove most of it from Amaren's grasp. "Try to help him learn to use a fork, he is trying." It was what Amaren was trying to do, and perhaps if Arthur helped him he could master the task sooner. Not today but over time.

[Arthur Pendragon]

A smile remained on Arthur's lips when Amaren tried to feed him again, causing more meat to fall on his clothing. But he didn't care. These were the signs of parenthood, and Arthur found himself cherishing every sing moment he spent with his son . . . and with Guinevère. Though it was easier to speak of one over the other. Somewhat. Not wanting to move the fork from Amaren's grasp, Arthur moved his hand over Amaren's tiny one that gripped the utensil, to help position it. "Like this," he told him, knowing that it would probably take more than this for him to learn . . . but it was a start. Helping him move it he, raised it a little so that it went to Amaren's mouth, making sure that the flatter end of it was near his lips and not the pointed part of the fork so that he would not injure himself.

"Now open wide . . . aanndd . . ." Once Amaren's mouth was open, Arthur moved the fork a bit closer to it so that Amaren could eat off the fork with ease. Some of it fell, but some also made it in his mouth . . . which was progress for the young boy. "Good job!" He exclaimed, sounding as positive and encouraging as he could. "What was his first word?" He suddenly asked in a soft voice. Arthur knew it was a random question . . . but it was also a moment that parents looked forward to. To know that their child's very first word would be. And since he wasn't here, he wanted to know as much as he could, though it would be impossible to know everything. For he had missed each moment of each day, for over two years. Nothing could replace that, no matter how many details were given.

[Guinevère]

She was watching them together and noticing how they did thing alike with out ever having been around each other. Such as chew very strongly, and the edges of both their eyes softened when they laughed with their opened. Little things that their son had inherited from his father rather then having learned from him. With time she knew there would be more learning from him.

"What was his first word?" Arthur asked and her heart beat a little harder. Talking of these moments would help him, but the reminder of how things were still hurt them both. "Most children speak the same words first. Dada." Father. "They know not what they say when they say it. I think his first word that he knew was cup. Or mine." Both were early words. "When they learn they learn so quickly. You have to watch what they hear or new words they heard from anyone could come out in the wrong moment." Not that Arthur cursed around her, but it was just something to say to fill the silence while Arthur fed Amaren.

"He get scared of things, and sounds easily. He tells me that he will carry me, but what he means is that he wants me to hold him. Children learn fears and bravery from their parents." The more she spoke the more it became less about filling the silence and more of a realization to her. "He needs you." To learn to be brave. "Not today, but soon we will need to think of how to handle this. For today, . . . . . " For today they should just enjoy these moments, for soon they would be at an end.

[Arthur Pendragon]

As Guinevère answered his question, he noticed that Amaren was becoming less energetic. His grip loosening on the fork, and instead he just waved around small pieces of meat, though not half as enthusiastically as he had done before. Dada was his first word then. Arthur knew better than to assume it had any sentiment. He'd rather hoped that Mama would have been Amaren's first word, but ones like cup and mine were not a great surprise. It only made Arthur smile at the knowledge . . . and long for the memory that he would never have. "You won't have to worry about him picking up any bad language from me," he assured her, meaning for it to sound a bit teasing . . . but there was an underlying tone of . . . well, he wasn't quite sure what it was. While he was so happy to be holding his son, he was also so very sad. More than he'd thought possible with the knowledge that he had a child.

To hear that Amaren would grow scared, only reminded Arthur that he was not here to help ease his fear. Though, there was no one better than Guinevère to take care of him, he knew that. He'd always known she would make a wonderful mother for she was caring, compassionate, and nurturing to all. Seeing how their son was, only emphasized how right he had been. "He needs you." Like any child needed a father. "He's been doing well without me." Arthur made sure not to say this in a self pitying way . . . but more in a way to tell her how wonderfully she had raised him. For she was doing it alone and he could imagine this was no easy task.

"You've raised him so well Guinevère. I always knew you would make a wonderful mother but I'm . . . " His eyes slowly went to hers, finding it impossible to keep the emotion out of his expression or his voice. "So grateful to you." So grateful and so sorry that he couldn't be here. The only thing that forced him to look away, was hearing Amaren yawn. Changing his position, Arthur held Amaren up, close to his chest as he looked down at their perfect boy. "We will need to think of something," he said in full agreement, and wished he had a more concrete suggestion to offer her. "I can return in a few days," he offered. He would find a way, no matter what was happening in the city, no matter how much work he had . . . he wanted to be with his son. And with her. But yet again, one was easier to speak about than the other.

[Guinevère]

"He's been doing well without me." "He could do better with you near." She countered, not about to down play how Amaren might be different with his father near. Stronger, braver? She didn't know but she did know that he now had that chance to have his father near! She wanted that for him but . . . . didn't know what that entailed. What it meant for her and Arthur. How any of it would happen.

"I can return in a few days," He offered after telling her that he was grateful. Seeing Arthur this way, made her hard to remember that he left her because she was a servant and he was a king. "He would like that. Perhaps then we could have thought of a way to handle this. How to be fair to everyone."

She had been noticing Amaren going tired, and she wondered if he would not mind staying with Arthur, or if he even knew who held him any longer. "If you walk the floor with him, and tell him a story he would sleep easier. If not then he might start fighting it and grow fussy. I tell him stories of you . . . . of your father and the knights." Ones she knew he might need to know one day. "Of Merlin." Because he was apart of the group.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"He could do better with you near." He wasn't sure about that but he wasn't about to make it sound like he didn't want to spend time with his son. It may be selfish of him -- knowing the danger this could place him in -- but . . . did a child not deserve to have a father? And Guinevère seemed to supportive of it. Her support was enough to convince him that it was the right thing to do, as he had always valued her advice and opinion about anything and everything. "That sounds like a good idea," Arthur agreed. He would have to think on it; think of a way to make this work. If she had no plans to return to the city, then he would find a way to come here. She told him that if he walked around with Amaren while telling him a story then it would help him fall asleep.

Arthur wondered if his son would feel comfortable falling asleep in a stranger's arms. He was about to find out. He moved his chair back a bit and rose to his feet. He didn't want to tell Amaren a story about himself. His father, the knights, even Merlin were better subjects. Though . . . he wondered what stories she told of his father. He knew they would not be dark, but he was curious . . . but of all the things he wanted to ask her, that was not one of the most pressing questions. He began to walk back and forth, gently swaying Amaren in his arms, slightly rocking him to help lull him into a deep slumber. "Have you heard the one about the goblin?" Arthur asked, looking down at his son as if he expected him to answer. Amaren just looked at him before making a noise -- not as high pitch as the ones he made previously. "Do you know what a goblin is?" He further inquired.

This time Amaren made a strange babbling noise which Arthur found to be precious. "Well, let me tell you about them. Goblin's are small, ugly creatures. They're green, have big ears and really big eyes," he further explained as he widened his eyes and made a silly face as if that was what a goblin looked like. "They like to go around, causing mischief." Arthur had never seen a goblin, but Gaius had explained what the creature looked like who had possessed him and . . . turned Arthur into a donkey. "One time, it was loose in the castle and . . . well, do you know what he did?!" Arthur made another sound, but Arthur could tell his enthusiasm was decreasing for he was slowly drifting. "He made the king bald. Made sure he had no hair, which forced him to wear this silly little hat. What else did he do you ask? Well, he gave the knights boils; big puffy circles on their face, like warts on a toad. And . . . "

He wouldn't go into detail about what happened in the throne room with his father, Guinevère and Morgana. "He tricked everyone, selling them what they believed to be medicine, but was really something else. Something that made them act funny." Or . . . release gas. It was a story after all, no need to be totally accurate. "But you know what the worst thing he did was? He turned the king's son . . . into a donkey!" Arthur had never told anyone that, and would never tell anyone who could potentially repeat it to another. "He had the voice and ears of a donkey. So he couldn't speak or do anything!" One of the most humiliating experiences of his life . . . and avoided eye contact with Guinevère why explaining this part of the story. "But with the help of two people he was close to, they managed to get the goblin out of Gaius and trap him.

See, goblin's are greedy and love gold, so they put a special potion on the gold so when he licked it . . . he goblin left his body and was trapped into a box. Everything went back to normal after that. The physician was able to give everyone remedies so that the king's hair grew back, the knights no longer had boils, and the prince had his voice and normal ears again. And then -- " Arthur paused when he noticed that Amaren had stopped making sounds . . . and that his eyes were closed and his breathing steady. He was asleep. Arthur gave a soft smile and lowered his head to lightly kiss Amaren on the forehead, making sure not to wake him. Keeping his lips on his son's forehead for a few lingering moments, he went to Amaren's bed -- able to tell the smaller of the two -- and folded the blanket back while slowly laying him down.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère watched them for a moment, taking in the sight of the two people in her life that she cherished most. After a moment she began cleaning up so the table would be clear. Lifting the bits of food from the table, she put it in the plates, but paused when Arthur began getting to the horrid part of the story. Her eyes watched him as he grew closer to the part with her, but he changed the actions done to her. "-- but was really something else. Something that made them act funny." Guinevère had not even realized she was silently daring him to speak the words with a soft glace until she felt the edges of her eyes relax.

Taking the plates to the bucket that made a sink for her here, she put them in the water and dropped the last one in with a slash as she lost the battle to completely hold a laugh in with Arthur's words of " . . . into a donkey!" But she managed to bit her lip and keep most the sounds from escaping. To keep herself from laughing at his expense she quickly washed the few dishes and put them to the side to dry.

Turning to check on Arthur, her heart froze as she watched him kiss Amaren's head and then take him to lie down. Forgetting to breathe for a few moments she could only watch the tender moment, and feel her heart swell up. How many nights had Arthur missed and she assumed he was doing it to be a better king? How many moments?

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there on the edge of the bed, just watching his son sleep as he swept back his hair from his forehead. Eventually, he knew he had to leave . . . for if he didn't force himself to, then he never would. How would he be able to leave the two people that he cared so much for? It was going to be so very difficult. Finally, somehow finding the strength, he rose to feet, staring at Amaren for every moment . . . until he had to literally force himself to look away from the peacefully slumbering child. At which point, his eyes rested on Guinevère. He walked a bit closer to her, glancing at Amaren again before he was standing in front of her. "Thank you," he said in a low voice. For giving him a son, for letting him spend time with him -- despite his painful past with Guinevère.

He knew she would never keep his son from him, and hated that she believed for all this time, that Arthur had no interest in Amaren. "He's . . . perfect." Because there was no other way to describe Amaren. He was perfect. And even then, it did not do him justice. There was so much he wanted to say to Guinevère, and yet . . . no words came out. Plus, he knew that this wasn't the right time for she was still adjusting to his sudden reappearance after his long absence. "I should . . . probably head back." Regrettably, and with no desire to return to the city. He felt more at home here with her and Amaren, than he did in the castle and his own chambers.

[Guinevère]

Arthur sat there for a while watching their son sleep, and Guinevère watched him watching their son. When he finally did rise up and turn to look at her, she felt her heart beat painfully. He thanked her, and claimed their son was perfect--an ideal she was in agreement on. He was perfect. Perfect for her and her life in every single way. He was half Arthur, and half her. Half prince and . . .

"You will return in a few days then?" She asked, trying to keep the emotion from her tone but not quite keeping it such. "If you wish we could have a belated birthday party." So he could have that moment with his son if he wanted. "Or plan a walk somewhere to get him out of the house for a while . . . We can do both or either. You can decide when you return." Not today. Today everything was still too fresh.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She asked to confirm that he would be returning in a few days . . . and then suggested a late birthday party. Arthur wished with all his heart that he could be here for Amaren's birthday, but he knew that it probably wasn't wise to make such a public appearance where others would see him. They needed to protect this secret until they knew what to do. "I like the sound of all of that," he said with a faint smile, unsure how to express his appreciation for accommodating him in Amaren's life . . . when he knew how difficult it was for her to do the same in her life. "I'll come back in four days," he promised, silently praying that nothing would come up to prevent him from doing so.

He knew that even now, he may have panicked the council a little with his abrupt absence -- especially during such dangerous times. Looking at her, he knew that this was where they said goodbye, yet couldn't bring himself to say it quite yet. He wanted to stay with her, he wanted to build a life with her. Not just as Amaren's mother but . . . as the woman he loved. "I'm sorry Guinevère. About . . . everything." About him not being here when she and Amaren needed him. About his uncle being so cruel and vicious against them. And especially for the words he had said that night, for they still played strong in her heart ear and mind.