Not Letting Go Again [Arwen] May 2, 2013 14:46:42 GMT -5
Post by Guinevère on May 2, 2013 14:46:42 GMT -5
She was tired, dirty, and her wrist were as numb as her ankles. Guinevère wished she could reach her hands up to wipe the dirt on her cheeks off, but knew that if she tried her kidnappers would only tie her hands tighter, and she also feared they might end up behind her. Right now they were before her, to allow balance while they rode and ran quickly away. After the whole day of trying to keep up with their relentless pace,they had pushed her down against this tree, and began looking for food. Spending time running and time rising, would keep her knights guessing where she really was.
Tired, hungry, and afraid . . . it was a hefty physical pressure on her already tired body. She did not sleep well, even when she was tucked in her own bed. His bed. Their bed. Guinevère had nightmares, or worse--she would awaken from a dream of him and roll over . . . only to come face to face with the nothingness that filled her free hours. It made her push herself harder to attend to the kingdom; the only thing he had left her. It was his kingdom, and she would not see fall!
Normally she was strong enough, or did not let herself think enough, to block out the reminders of him. They empty halls, the empty chair at the table, or the cold place in their bed. Now however, tired, hungry, far from home, and so very alone; she had nothing to keep her defenses in place. Nothing to stop his memory from coming to her. Arthur. He had once made her feel so very safe; so very untouchable. That feeling had left when he died, and only came to grow in these moments. They would kill her soon, to make a point. Their king or general would want to do it--and that was only reason she was alive. Soon she would be with her husband, if there was indeed life after death. Either way, she knew it would be over soon.