The Way You Make Me Feel

[Arthur Pendragon]

The days were progressing nicely . . . well, apart from the pending disappearance of Morgana. While the city was restoring itself rather successfully, the emotional turmoil that filled the people was not yet at an end. It would take time for those hearts to heal who mourned for the death of loved ones. And Arthur -- while he mourned for his people -- his heart ached for Morgana. He missed her terribly, and he knew he was not the only one. He hated seeing the others so saddened by her absence: his father and Guinevère mostly.She was so well loved by the people, so everyone that strong missing presence. Arthur had returned from another failed attempt to find her, just hours ago. And once that had been done, he was filled in on the progress of reparations. Then, shockingly, he had some time to clean himself up. He had to admit it felt rather good to get out of that armor that he had been wearing for days, now just clad in casual -- and comfortable -- attire.

With these few moments to spare, he wanted to use them to check up on someone: Lady Sasha. He had still not seen her since she had suffered injuries during the dragon attacks. There had been so much chaos, so much to do, but ensuring the well being of someone he cared about was also on his list of priorities. He already failed Morgana, he did not wish to fail anyone else, especially not Sasha though the fact that she had been injured meant that he already failed on that part. After all that she had been through, with suffering the cruel wrath of her mother, he wanted to . . . no, needed to make sure she was alright. He had made her a promise some time ago that he would not let any harm come to her . . . and he wished to maintain that as best as he could.

It was night, but not an obscure hour that would only make his presence in her room seem absurd. This time on his way to her chambers, he was not encountered by her servant -- who Arthur still did not completely trust. Perhaps he would try to talk to her about that, but of course, only when she was feeling better for he did not wish to burden her with objections he had when she was recuperating. Hopefully Sasha would be awake though if she was resting, he would of course completely understand. It was a risk he needed to take for he did not know when he would get another opportunity of a few spare moments to check on her. He lightly knocked on her door, waiting politely one the other end for someone to answer, just in case he had caught her at a bad time.


_{Setting: The Castle of Camelot
Time of Day: Night time
Timeline: A few days after The Last Dragonlord
Tag: Lady Sasha Tiberius}

[Sasha]

Sasha's left arm was secured in a cast, which was a benefit for her. She heard the knock on her door and sighed lightly. She wasn't disappointed that someone was knocking, or maybe she was a little bit. . . for she whenever she was in pain she would much rather be left alone. Which reminded her of what her new servant had done. Nicolae had saved her life when the dragon had been attacking with it's fiery breath. He had received quite a burn too, but thankfully it wasn't in view while he had a shirt on. The burn was along his side, and even though Cameot's court physician Gaius had said that it would not scar, she still felt a bit guilty for having caused him this much trouble.

Speaking of wounds, Sasha had been dealt a few of her own. To start off, as minor as it may look the cut on Sasha's arm stung like. . . hell, really. Though she felt it was shameful to complain even in thought, for hundreds of people had been burned to death. And since Sasha really hadn't been outside or informed of the wereabouts of Prince Arthur, she had become slightly depressed wondering if he was still alive. The dragon had been defeated and that was the important thing, for the wellbeing of Camelot. And because of what her servant had told her, she knew that Arthur still lived. This had relieved so much stress from her and had quite possibly sped up her healing process. . .

"Come in," she said tiresomely. Sasha waited for whoever was at the door to enter her chambers. She was half expecting it to be her servant, Nicolae Jacob. She had no clue that it was the Prince, the one that she held so close to her heart. Sasha hadn't been able to talk to him lately, and even without being injured she hadn't been able to catch him at a good time to tell him about her feelings for him. Since the Yearly Justing Tournament, it seemed, Arthur had in a way avoided her. Sasha couldn't figure out why.

[Arthur Pendragon]

When he heard a faint voice granting him entrance, it assured Arthur of two things. One, that she was awake, but hopefully not too exhausted to see him. Still, if she was, he would just have a quick visit and leave her to rest. The second thing it assured him of was that she was alone, otherwise one of the servants would have opened the door for her. This was also another good thing, for it meant that he could have a few moments alone with her, as it was always preferable to have privacy with a friend, as oppose to others hovering about. With these assurances in mind, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. His eyes did a quick scan of the room, just to be completely sure that there was no one always present . . . not even her personal servant, Nicolae.

When he was convinced of her solitude, he rested his eyes on her and took a few steps towards the bed. The first thing he inevitably noticed was the cast on her arm. He had been informed of her injury, yet seeing it made him feel even worse for her. Though, it could have been A LOT worse. Many were dead, many were mortally wounded. While he wished she could have left the attack unscathed, part of him felt immensely relieved that her wound was not more serious. He gave her a bit of a smile, as his gaze left her injured arm, and rested on her face. "How are you feeling?" He asked in a strongly concerned voice as he was now standing near her bed. Not intrusively close, but as they were good friends, it was a comfortably close distance.

[Sasha]

When Sasha saw that it was Arthur, all traces of annoyance transformed into a feeling of affection. It made her even happier that no one else was in the room, as privacy was something she deeply appreciated. . . especially when she with someone she considered very important to her. The Prince went to stand near her bed, not extremely close but just. As any woman would do when in love, as she heard him speak she gave a faint smile. Really she was feeling very excited, but didn't want to show it just yet. "I'm not feeling the best, but it's certainly manageable," she responded. Sasha did her best not to make it sound like she was not complaining. . . again, it was shameful. Many people had died and been burned, and she sat there complaining about a minor cut on her arm?

Speaking of the dragon's attack, Sasha was reminded of how happy she was to see Arthur. . . and that he was still alive. Now that she thought into the depths of it, Sasha didn't know what she'd do if he had died. After all, he meant so much to her. "I'm not surprised to see you're still alive," she shot him a friendly smile. No she was not surprised, but maybe you can say that she wasn't exactly confident in him fighting the dragon as he had been those few days. In fact, far from it. She had been terrified for him, and horrified that he would be killed. Although now that Sasha had a moment to think, she was not surprised that he survived with minor burns. And she also knew that those words would put a great confidence in him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

As he moved closer he saw the cast, and desperately hoped it recovered soon. But he just kept reminding himself that it could have been a lot worse. Especially if her shady servant had not been there to save her. "I'm glad to see you're alright," he said in a low, yet deeply concerned and relieved voice. 'Alright' was a relative word, but she only had a cast. They did not have to remove her arm or anything, nor did it seem like there would be any permanent damage. And at least now he could see for himself that she was well, rather than wonder how she had been doing. Her spirits seemed to be good, which was not a surprise to him. For as he had discussed with her servant before, and even complimented her on, her bravery was remarkable.

His smile grew a bit when she commented about not being surprised to see him. That meant quite a lot. Any time he heard others confidence and faith in him meant a great deal to Arthur, even if perhaps he never always did the best in expressing that. Seeing that she was awake, and did not seem too weakened, he decided that perhaps he would stay for a little while instead of just doing a quick check up and leaving. He pulled a chair near the bed and positioned it before sitting down, indicating his thoughts of staying . . . just until she grew too tired for company. "I am," he joked [really only half kidding], actually rather surprised that he had managed to defeat the dragon. Probably because he still had no idea how he had done it . . . and many others had not lived to witness it. Only Merlin. "But now with the dragon gone, we can focus on repairing the damages." And mourning for the loss of loved ones; and searching for Morgana. But he did not want to bring the mood too down. That would only show how terrible he was at cheering people up.

[Sasha]

"That is always a good thing," the Lady Sasha responded with a somewhat affectionate smile. Something was drastically changing in her emotions, and she was quickly transforming from glad to rather jovial. All by just seeing his face; his deep, twilight blue eyes, his flowing golden hair, the way his shoulders were always so. . . broad. She could have sworn she had somewhat felt sparks flying around in her heart while thinking about his ever attractive features. Well, it just so happened that simply seeing Arthur was all she needed to feel better on that day. It made her feel. . . like her wounds were not stinging like they had been before he had walked in.

Sasha had never felt this way before. Sure, she knew what it was. . . kind of. Love, but. . . did she honestly love Prince Arthur? Perhaps she did, for all he seemed to be doing right now is bringing her joy. She even felt physically strengthened! Sasha let out a silent sigh, and then thought to herself on the matter of love. . . and Arthur. . . and his wavy golden hair. . . and also his blue eyes that stared right through her in good way. This was all very strange for her, but it was also something she couldn't go on denying. She. . . loved Arthur deeply, yet could not admit just yet that she did have these mushy feelings for him.

"So when you defeated the dragon," Sasha Tiberius said breathily as she laid her head back on the pillow making herself more comfortable, genuinely interested to hear his take on what had happened. "What happened?" Yes, she was looking for his story of defeating the mighty dragon. That sounded all too powerful, the sounding of it. It even made her smile, expressing how proud she was of him. Proud to have him as a close friend. . . to have a dragon slayer, none the less a Prince, as a friend. Oh right! More than a friend. Lover, only he had no idea that she was getting so much joy out of just looking at him and that they hadn't been intimate in a long while. Just. . . slightly awkward.

Even though you wouldn't expect it, no more than a few seconds could have passed as these thoughts raced through her mind. "You have me curious!" She smiled. Sasha did not exactly know how to imagine what type of battle he fought; certainly a lot of fire, and screams. . . and so on. But how? How had he defeated a gigantic dragon that had killed all of the knights and so many of the villagers? Hmmmm. . . she suddenly thought it something that only Arthur could accomplish. Only an epic fighter could kill a dragon with one blow of a sword. It was certainly impressive. And it nly made Sasha feel like she loved him even more.

[ Haha at least the word "EPIC" wasn't over used back then xDD ]

[Arthur Pendragon]

His smile became less strained when she began to ask about what happened. Even though it was a story with a heartbreaking ending, for he had lost so many men, so many civilians, and Morgana was still missing . . . she asked in such a way where she expected to hear a grand story. And he was going to try and avoid bringing the mood down. After all, his company was meant to try and cheer her up; not make his misery her own. No recovering person wanted someone else to just dump their burdens on them. Even if he knew Sasha would say she did not mind, she deserved a bit of optimism and positiveness. At the same time, he did not want to disrespect those who had passed; those who had fallen victim to the dragon's wrath.

"I rode out with twelve men," he began to say, unsure of how much she knew. The news of the knights' deaths probably spread for it was indeed big news and there would be a mourning ceremony for all. "And Merlin of course," he added in a casual voice. The fact that Merlin chose to ride out to him . . . it just showed what Arthur had already grown to appreciate: the strength of his servant's character, and the value he held in his friendship. It was true, Arthur often bullied him, mocked him, and tortured him endlessly . . . but this was really his way of showing that he did care for that man, as a man cared for his brother. He had become someone Arthur internally confessed to be a close, true and loyal friend . . . but vocally admitting this was an entirely different issue.

"It did not take long for the dragon's fire to consume them,." Arthur said in a low, softer voice as he looked down. It had happened so suddenly; just like that, he had lost 12 good friends. Or well, 11 since Leon survived. It was a painful loss, as was the death of the townspeople. After a few moments of silence passed, he looked at her once again, forcing a faint smile on his lips, as he decided before, it was not his intention to bring the mood down. "It was not long after that I struck the dragon with a mortal blow." He did not say these words with an arrogant air . . . but more so with relief. "Besides myself, Merlin and Sir Leon were the only survivors."

Again, he did not know how much she knew but hopefully she was now better informed . . . just in case she had any questions. It was vaguely told, but held the assurance that the dragon was gone, for Arthur trusted his servant. If Merlin said that Arthur struck him with a mortal blow, then he had and just because the prince did not fully witness it . . . Merlin would have no reason to lie. Arthur just left out that little bit tot he story; him being struck and getting knocked into a state of unconsciousness. At least it had a somewhat, bittersweet ending. Camelot was safe again. And now they could start reparations, and mourn for their lost ones.

[[ HAHA So true!! Its just our job to over use it for them! hahah! ]]

[Sasha]

Of course, the story had its downside. She could tell Arthur was trying to keep the mood in high spirits, but that was rather difficult while speaking of such a sad thing. Sasha hadn't really realized that until now, for she had been focused on the Prince and his bravery. Proof right there. . . but of what? Why was she thinking of him first and no one else? She had in fact been feeling this for a while. Nearly a year. But she had been waiting for him to bring it up, and say something about it. For she was not the person to express her feelings when they were so personal and strange. . . and nice. "I'm grateful to hear that they survived," she said carefully. Sasha didn't want him to feel bad about how the other knights had died while fighting the dragon. She did her best by giving him comforting words, but at the same time trying not to let him know she was that concerned. "You're a good man, Arthur."

Perhaps. . . now would be the best time to tell him? After all, he had been searching for the Lady Morgana all of the time, helping to repair the castle and lower town, upon many other Princely things; who knew when she'd get another chance like this? But what was she to tell him? That she wouldn't be able to continue breathing if he had died, and that he was all she ever thought about? Sasha opening her mouth to give an attempt at maybe telling him all of this. . . but she was hesitating, so therefore no sound came out. Well, it seemed that nervousness was her grandest feature. And worst of all, he'd probably see it in her face that she was hesitating in telling him something. If that happened, then he'd have caught her and she'd have to tell him. Oh well. She would have to eventually, right? And now was the best time.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Just as Arthur had been attempting to keep the spirits of the conversation high and light, she was doing the same. There would be a time to mourn for all those who died and now was not it. For now, he was checking on a dear friend to make sure all was well. He look at her, giving a faint smile when she told him that he was a good man. Arthur never assumed that others perceived him in this way. Such compliments were earned; not automatically given and the fact that Sasha was not obliged to say such a thing, only added more sincerity and sentiment to the comment. Perhaps she would never know just how much, for Arthur could not fully express how flattered he was to hear her speak such words to him. "Thank you," he said in a low but genuine voice. It was never hurt to be told such things, even when he felt very undeserving of them right now . . . for he had failed the people, for far too many had died under his watch; under what was supposed to have been him protecting him.

Breaking away from these thoughts for the sake of conversation, he continued to look at her, noticing that she appeared to want to say something but then changed her mind? "So are you recovering well? What did the physician say?" He inquired. He knew the injuries but he was still worried about how she was doing. He had control over very little right now so if he could be completely assured that she was alright . . . then at least it would be another positivity to hold on to.

[Sasha]

"Yes, I'm recovering well!" She smiled at him. "The physician said it would take up to two weeks to fully heal, and that I shouldn't strain it too much. . . but I already feel like I could rule the world!" Mostly because she was love struck! The thought of what she wanted to say was still in the back of her head, just waiting to come out.

Taking a huge sigh, which was soundless, she prepared to say something which was leading up to 'the big secret'. "Uhhhh. . . I'd. . . like to. . . tell you something," she began quietly, her cheeks turning deep crimson. Did she really want to do this?? Ugh. Well, she couldn't stop now! It would give herself a stupid, terrible, and awkward look. She'd better continue. . . "It's generally important. . ."

"I think I. . ." She stopped. She couldn't do this! How was she supposed to do this?! It was so embarrassing! Would it possibly help at the slightest if she looked away??! Sasha hoped he wouldn't notice her sudden sweating, which was perfectly visible in the light. "I. . . Arthur, I am having such trouble saying this. . ." She said, almost asking him for help. But if he didn't know what she was trying to say, how could he help her? She didn't want him to help her anyway. And Arthur thought he was bad at expressing his feelings. Well, here it goes. . .

"I. . . think. . . I. . . love you. . ."

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[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur smiled upon hearing her condition, or more specifically, the ‘rule the world’ part. She always had such a great sense of humor; a wonderful jovial spirit. It was no wonder she endured such a difficult life, and he hoped . . . prayed that for her sake, it only became easier from here on end. He was about to comment, perhaps even encourage a joke or too -- as it was certainly helping with alleviating the immense tension that befell the city -- but she went on to say that she had something important to discuss with him. His smile was replaced with a concerned expression, wondering what it was. She was so hesitant when usually she spoke so openly and freely in front of him. It was what had made it so easy and natural to get along with her. He looked at her carefully, wondering how bad it was. She was having trouble saying it? What could it be? "You know you can tell me anything Sasha," he assured and encouraged her in a soft voice. If anything, he felt there was a strong trust between them and he did indeed hope it was enough for her to make known her troubles, for Arthur wanted to do whatever he could to help. Nothing however would have prepared him for what he was about to hear . . .

"I. . . think. . . I. . . love you. . ."

. . . And there it was. Arthur looked at her stunned for a few moments. He had no idea what expression was on his face. Surprise? Probably. Shock? Hell yes. Speechless? Well, that wasn’t exactly an emotion but it was most certainly what he was experiencing right now. He just stared at her, the words taking several moments to register in his mind. It was why there was the first chunk of silence following her words, for he was trying to absorb them. He was trying to let them sink in. He was . . . she loved him. She loved him? Well, she just said that she loved him! When Arthur finally acknowledged the magnitude of these words, his gaze fell from her face and onto the ground. She loved him. Why? Well, that was a stupid question for his mind to concoct. He knew all too well how one could not help the person whom they fell in love with. The woman he fell in love with. He was in love . . . but, not with Sasha. With someone else. With Guinevère. She had claimed his heart nearly a year ago. Which was months after he had kissed Sasha. Which . . . while Arthur was entirely composed, he felt his head slightly spin. This time, it was not the lack of rest or massive exhaustion that filled him. It was uncertainty; guilt even. Why did he feel guilty that she loved him one might ask?

Because he had encouraged her to feel something for him, from the moment he first kissed her. Of course he did not know it would develop into something so strong . . . but it had. And he could not return the words. He wished he could, but that was not to say that he wished he was not in love with Guinevère. He only wished that she could find happiness, and that she had not fallen in love with a man who was already in love with another woman. Just when he was hoping that Sasha could have a peaceful, hurt free rest of her life . . . he was now, ironically, the one who was going to hurt her. He was unsure as to how much silence passed. Not nearly enough for him to collect all the thoughts and emotions that suddenly flooded his mind and heart. She loved him. And he did not love her. Not in the way she had said it to him. He loved her as a friend . . . but not as the woman he would marry. While he was well aware that it was not exactly easy to marry Guinevère, that nothing may ever come of them, he could not imagine his future with any other woman. Not even Lady Sasha Tiberius. So what did he say? Was there anything he could say that would not hurt her?

"Sasha . . . " he began in a soft voice, but his voice trailed off for he did not even know the end to that sentence. She loved him. And he did not love her. Arthur was already terrible at vocalizing his emotions but now, he was completely perplexed and at a loss for any words as none of them seemed relevant, none of them seemed sufficient, none of them would help this situation. "Thank you." Really? Really?! Had he just thanked her?! Was that the best Arthur Pendragon could do?! Apparently it was! He wanted to say something more and yet, not say anything at all. "I am flattered, and honored beyond any words . . ." There was no end to that sentence either. He did not know what to say; what he could say. And he lacked the courage to be able to look into her eyes. So his gaze still rested on the ground, pensive over what she had said, nervous for what she was about to say . . . and terrified that he was about to lose one of the closest friends he had.

[Sasha]

Sasha felt as if she had made a huge mistake in telling him that, but it had nothing to do with what his response had been. Should she say something? "I, ah. . . I have wanted to say that for a while," she said quietly, trying not to make eye contact with him for she was too shy. "I was actually waiting for you to. . . say something. . . but, it's been almost a year. . . I didn't think you would say. . . nothing." She just needed to shut up, thne she'd be fine. But she couldn't, and part of her didn't want to stop.

Unfortunately, another woman entered her mind, making her feel even more worried. "I know. . . you must still have feelings for the Lady Vivian, but. . . I just. . . needed you to know that." That was what pushed her shyness over the edge, remembering how he seemed to love Vivian and had fought her father nearly killing him in the process. For a second, she wondered if he'd ever do the same for her if it had come done to a random situation like that.

So then, she just had to ask a dumb question. Because this conversation would be nothing without it. "How do you feel?" She swallowed anxiously. "I mean, do. . . you. . . you know. . . like me?" It was stupid because he obviously still had feelings for Vivian, and now she had just added so much stress to him with this entire talk. . . as if he needed more of it at this point. Morgana, the King's ward whom she knew Arthur cared about deeply, was gone. The kingdom had been attacked by the dragon, that went without saying. And many had died under his watch. . . she had picked the wrong time to tell him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was truly at a loss of words. His mind was spinning with what she had just told him. Even if he physically looked composed . . . even if his expression suggested as such . . . inside his head and heart, he was flooded with different thoughts and emotions. She . . . loved him? Him?! He knew that in the past he had done things that suggested a more intimate future between them . . . he had just never thought they'd develop into this kind of love. What should he say? He had thanked her -- a completely ridiculous phrase of words to choose to speak -- and then . . . what, said he was flattered? Oh god. Replaying the recently spoken words in his mind made them sound all the more absurd. "I, ah. . . I have wanted to say that for a while." Since when? Since they kissed? No, it must have been after . . . maybe . . . possibly . . . oh dear god! What should he say?! "I was actually waiting for you to. . . say something. . . but, it's been almost a year. . . I didn't think you would say. . . nothing." Those words filled Arthur with guilt, for he knew he should have said something.

He should not have left it so up in the air. Back then, he had been more carefree -- when it came to women anyway -- and immature. He had enjoyed the company of the lady folk, and knew he far too casually played with their emotions. Embracing them intimately, and then just letting it be. At the time, he had found these non committal actions for the best, but now . . . he saw the repercussions of them. And he felt horrible. Needless to say it had been his relationship with Guinevère that had matured him in this way for he had discovered what love was. But . . . Sasha loved him. He should have said something sooner. He should not have just 'let it be'. He should not have kissed her and then not spoken about it for a year. He should not have played with her emotions in such a way. He stayed silent as she continued to speak.

"I know. . . you must still have feelings for -- " -- Yes Guinevère -- "The Lady Vivian." Wait . . . WHAT?! Vivian?! Where did --- Oh. Ohhhh. Riiight. Now he realized where that had come from . . . as it really wasn't too far in the past that that entire, incident had taken place. There were only a few who knew it was not actual genuine emotions that had driven his actions. That it had been an enchantment. So it completely made sense that Sasha believed he had strong feelings for her. And it made this entire thing all the more difficult to explain. How did he explain his actions without sounding like a complete heartless jerk? How did he explain it without sounding like some sort of male gigolo? Should he say his feelings for Vivian were not real? But then what kind of impression would that leave? Would that make him look like a cruel man in her eyes? Probably no less cruel then a man who had not talked about what happened between him and Sasha . . . there was truly no way out of this. "I, do not love Vivian," he admitted, though as soon as the words escaped his lips, he realized that may sound like he loved Sasha!

He couldn't tell her of his feelings for Guinevère. And then she asked the question that was both easy to answer and yet so difficult. He knew exactly how he felt about her. He cared for her . . . as a friend cared for a friend. These words would have come with so much ease, had she not made it evident that she wanted -- maybe even expected -- something more. He did not want to hurt her. But . . . he could not act as if he could entertain the idea of being with another woman, when he was already committed to Guinevère -- even if nothing could happen between them. He stayed silent for a few long, drawn out moments, as he tried to collect his thoughts. He had never been in this kind of situation before . . . having such a close friend describe such strong feelings for him. He did not want to lose her as that dear friend, but . . . he could not return her love in the way she wanted. He could have easily lied, and concocted an untruth that supported his actions over Vivian; saying he had not recovered from that separation.

But Sasha deserved far better than a lie. He had already cowered at the subject for a year . . . he could not do so any more. "How do you feel? I mean, do. . . you. . . you know. . . like me?" These questions replayed in his mind, over and over again in this looming silence. He knew he had to eventually speak, and though no amount of time would be sufficient preparation, he could not just sit in silence for the next hour or so. "Sasha," he began, again, starting with her first name . . . trying to gather himself after hearing this grand revelation of hers. "I care for you, a great deal." But. Yes. It was that tone of 'there was a but'. "But . . . as a friend cares for a friend." He made sure to look at her, wanting her to understand that she was close to him, dear to his heart, but not as a lover. Looking at her though, made him feel all the worse. It was very evident how shy she was over admitting such a thing. He wished she had developed these feelings for someone who was capable of returning them. He didn't want to be the man who hurt her. He never wanted to be that man.

[Sasha]

Had she heard him right? He... didn't love Vivian? Well then who did he love? Well, she didn't want to sound rude by asking...She'd probably find out sooner or later. When Arthur began to answer her, saying her first name, she felt a large amount of hope. She longed for him to say he did in fact love her... that would be wonderful... because she knew she herself loved him stronger than she could have imagined.

“I care for you a great deal. But... as a friend cares for a friend.”

What...? He didn't... love her...? “Why?” That had just slipped out. It was not a logical question. Because Sasha just didn't know what to say... what could she possibly say to Arthur? She felt an intense feeling of sadness, but she just couldn't cry over it... it must be the shock. “I... Arthur...” She had to think of something sensible to say! If anything! “I love you more than myself... how can I ever... get over someone like you...?”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had no response for either question she asked. The first one being a simple word that yet held so much magnitude for it entailed so much. Why. Why did he not love her? Arthur could not say it because he loved another. In order to protect Guinevère, he could say nothing that would arouse any sort of suspicion. Those who knew about him and her had found out on their own . . . and it really was only Merlin who had. There were just some things that were so important to him, that he could not dare speak them aloud. Such intensity of emotions would never be able to be vocalized and he would not try. Especially in front of Sasha who -- judging from her words and expression -- he had already hurt a great deal. Far more than he ever would have wished.

"I love you more than myself... how can I ever... get over someone like you...?" This question rendered him silent. Did she really love him that much? It was almost a scary thing, to hold that much of someone's affection . . . and unable to return it. In a way, he knew he held the love from his knights, as they were willing to sacrifice themselves for his life, something that always filled him with the highest honor. And he would do the same for them. But now, to hear a woman proclaim her love for him . . . loving him more than herself . . . asking how she could move past this . . . Arthur had no answer. He knew himself undeserving of this because Sasha was indeed a wonderful person, but not the woman who had claimed his heart in the way she wanted. "I'm sorry," he said in a deep, sincerely apologetic voice. He was not sure what else to say . . . for he doubted anything would make the pain of this moment far less. He thought of that moment when Merlin and him and saved Guinevère from Hengist and he had seen the way she looked at Lancelot. The way she had taken his hand. The way she cried when he left.

He had never quite experienced those emotions before . . . of hurt. Not bitterness, for at the time he knew he had no claim over her. But to feel such strong love for someone, only to have it unrequited was indeed a painful thing. So in that way, Arthur could relate though it made him desperately wish even more that he could spare her from that hurt. Especially since he was the one who Sasha had fallen in love with; the one who could not return the feelings. "You will find someone Sasha. Someone who will make you happy. Someone who can love you in the way you love them; the way you deserve." Someone who would touch her life, the way Guinevère had touched his. "But, it can not be me," he added, wishing that he did not have to responsible for hurting her . . . but he would not encourage her any longer. He had done so for so many months, and this is what had come of it: hurting her in a way he never wished to.

[Sasha]

All she could do now was give a light, barely audible, sigh. The thought of finding someone else was bittersweet... she loved Arthur more than she had thought possible before,a nd yet she did want a man who would love her as she loved him. But... just not now. Not anytime soon. She still had yet to deal with her love for Arthur. "Maybe..." she said quietly, and wanted to add something else, but... "Maybe..." she only repeated herself. For once, her heart wasn't aflame with love... it was burning with hurt. A hurt she had never felt before, longed for the day it ended.

The only other man she was close to was her servant Nicolae... but he couldn't possibly be someone she'd fall in love with. First of all, he'd appeared out of nowhere and she knew nothing much about him no matter how much she seemed to trust him. But enough about Nicolae... the silence here was getting very awkward. She went to stand up, wondering if Arthur would protest. But luckily it was just her arm, she wouldn't be doing anything to hurt it. It was just... when she was under grief she needed to walk around a bit. Even if it were just pacing around.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur knew he could say it, but accepting it was something else. He knew that all too well. For he had felt the same thing when Guinevère had told him that he would find a princess; another woman to fall in love with. And Arthur knew that was impossible. He knew his heart belonged to Guinevère, so even considering the possibility of giving it to someone else was so very impossible. Yet, it was all he could say in this moment. Not having been faced with having such a close friend admit these feelings for him. It was flattering, but he wished it was not so. For he never wished to be the reason Sasha was so upset, by anything. He did not want his words to sound as if they were rejecting her. If he was not in love with Guinevère, then who knows who he would have eyes for. Practically any beautiful woman, as his past suggested. But this was different. And he was unsure how to fix it. Maybe there was no way to fix it.

Amidst this awkward silence, he noticed that she moved, seeming as if she was going to stand up. Arthur rose to his feet, moving slightly closer to her as if to stop her. "Sasha, you should not move," he told her. She should be resting, not trying to move up and about. "Is there something you need? I will get it for you." Or get one of the servants to fetch it if it was not something in this room. Just because something had happened that had the potential to strong strain their relationship, did not mean that he no longer cared for her. Even if it was just as a friend. Something that he had just learned was not mutual.

[Sasha]

“No, it's fine,” Sasha told him immediately. “I'll manage.” She only wished to stand and as long as she didn't stretch her wound then everything be fine. Likely she wouldn't harm it, and her legs were just aching to walk around the room a little bit. She did not want to think about how much he cared for her right now. She needed to deal with the fact he would never be with her. Ever. She kept replaying that word in her head. NEVER. NEVER.

So she got to her feet, slowly and nervously moving away from him to stand in the middle of the floor. Sasha turned to face him, an unreadable expression crossing her face. There was an awkward, perhaps even tense, pause right before she spoke. “Did you ever consider loving me back?” Sasha inquired with a strong voice. Had it come across as cold? It probably had. She wasn't really that angry, more toward heart broken. Sasha didn't want to hurt his feelings.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur would have protested more . . . had he not soon realized that she was standing up, to distance herself from him. To create space between them. He felt terrible. He wished that he had not had to tell her this when her physical state was already so impaired. There was nothing he could do to help her physically . . . and now there was nothing he could do to help her emotionally either. He could not say that perhaps one day, he would love her as she wanted. For he was secretly committed to another. Even if he never married Guinevère, he would rather spend his whole life alone, than be married to another woman. But he could not say such things. Would anything he say helped? He wanted to so badly find a way to fix this, but affairs of the heart could never be remedied. Which made it all the worse. He stayed standing but did not walk toward her as she stepped away from him, moving to the middle of the room.

The silence between them was almost foretelling and he wondered if he should speak or leave or . . . do something! "Did you ever consider loving me back?" This question caused him to pause. It sounded a bit cold and detached, but at the same time . . . he fully understood the reasons for it being so. It was not as if he had done anything to deserve a warm tone from her. His leading her on all this time . . . would it permanently create a rift between them? He sincerely hoped not. But right now, could not ask her for anything. Her question was, indeed a difficult one to answer. He was not used to speaking about his feeling and emotions. And this . . . was getting increasingly hard. But, never the less, she did deserve answers. He only had to find a suitable way to approach this answer . . . because in simple terms, it was 'No'. But he did not want to sound harshly blunt. He remembering thinking back, to how he had never expected to fall in love with anyone.

How he knew his marriage would be for political gain, and not love. But Guinevère had changed all that. To answer Sasha's question, he could use the excuse that his father would never allow him to be with someone who was not a royal. For he knew that his traditional father expected him to marry a princess at the very least. But, he was not going to lie to Sasha. It was not about that. He was not going to blame his father for the reason he did not love Sasha. There was really no one to blame for not loving her. He blamed himself for not having told her sooner that he did not. He remained quiet for several moments, gathering his thoughts, collecting them so that he could speak without sounding as frazzled as he felt. An important trait of maintaining composure on the outside even when he didn't feel it inside, was something that he had learned growing up as a prince.

"To be entirely honest Sasha, I can not say that I did." His voice was softly spoken, not in the least bit harsh even though his words were true. He knew he had to embellish a bit. "There was a time where I felt, enthralled by you." When he had seen her after so many years, and had invited her out on a ride through the woods. He had been captivated by her beauty. "I had not considered falling in love with you. Nor anyone else." Going back to his honest thoughts about how he always thought his marriage would be for politics. That it was not just her he had never considered being in love with. "Over time, you grew to be important to me. But as a dear friend. Rather than someone I could see as my one day wife." The words were not easy to say, and he could only assume how much more difficult they would be to hear. But he owed her his utmost honesty. Even if they were not friends after this . . . he knew he owed her the truth. To speak with sincerity; to speak what was in his heart.

It was not something he often did, as there were few who he spoke to in such a way. But for this one time, he had to tell her. She had told him what was in her heart, and he needed to return the favor. "The fault is mine, for being misleading and dismissive of what feelings could have developed." He was not exempting himself from blame, nor did he want her to do the same. "I should have been more clear about my intentions and for that, I am truly sorry." For not telling her the truth sooner. For assuming that they were on the same page when it came to their relationship. He wanted to ask her when she had known she loved him . . . but was afraid of making her more uncomfortable by asking such a question. So for the time being, withheld asking. Unless it came up in conversation. Which was not unlikely considering the direction this one was taking.

[Sasha]

So he’d never loved her. For some reason Sasha was at peace with this answer. It was certainly better than him saying that he had once loved her, and then fallen out of love with her for another woman. "I feel incredibly affectionate for you, and a few days ago when you faced the dragon I was horrified for you,” she said quietly, remembering the fear she had felt. Nicolae had tried to comfort her, but since they’d only met a couple of days before he didn’t want to get into her business or make it seem like he was overstepping his boundaries. “I have never met any other man that I’ve liked as much as you…” …where was she going with this? “However, I would just like to say that I hope you are happy with the woman you marry in the future. And I only hope she appreciates what she will have.”

The shock wasn’t leaving her, and probably would not for a while, but she felt a lot calmer than before. She couldn’t say she was happy, because she was most certainly not. But she tried to imagine what Arthur was feeling; guilt, she could see in the way his expression changed when he had answered her last question. Shock, just as she was, although not as strongly. Sasha let several moments pass; in that long pause she remembered something. Her mother! Delilah had once attacked her and tried to feed her yew berries, which could kill an adult in a matter of seconds. They were very poisonous. Arthur had come to her rescue that night, and she had never properly thanked him. “I just remembered something,” Sasha began slowly and softly, advancing toward the bed where she slightly leaned against one of the four poles supporting the four corners of the bed. “Do you recall the night my mother tried feed me poisonous berries and you came to my rescue?” She gave him a moment to reply. “Well… I… I never thanked you properly for that. So, thank you for saving my life, Arthur.” That felt good to say.

Upon thinking of her mother Delilah Kastus Tiberius, the wife of her father Sir Peter Tiberius, Sasha remembered her childhood and all the verbal and sometimes physical abuse she’d gone through. The worst verbal abuse was when Delilah scorned her and told her she’d never be anything more than her mother; a vengeful witch. She resented that, and never wanted to even consider doing the things a witch did. She did not want Uther to consider her that way, like he would consider her mother if he had found out the truth. That was probably because she supported her father’s views on magic. In her opinion, witches were awful…. And she had a mother to prove it! But there was just something she needed to show Arthur that she’d shown no one else. Not even the nearby village physician when she’d first received it. “There is, something that I want to show you,” Sasha started, paused, then pulled up the right sleeve of her green dress to reveal a long red line of scar going from her shoulder to her elbow. “My mother did this to me when I was sixteen. That’s why I left and came here on my own; I had had enough.” This was probably a depressing subject for Arthur, but she just needed to get out the frustration she held inside by keeping it a secret. “I have never told anyone this. Not one person. And I hope that only you and my future husband will know about it.” She also hoped he’d never tell anyone of her harsh red arm scar. “I’m disappointed it never healed properly.” It flawed her body.

NOTE: 629 Words! I think that may be a record for me! X3