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Post by Guinevère on Mar 10, 2019 12:56:58 GMT -5
The fire wasn't the only thing warming her here tonight. "Perhaps, the only strangeness being the distance between us when sitting together," She laughed softly, looking down, and away from him for a moment before her eyes went back to his and she held the gaze. Her fingers tightened on the blanket, but not from fear it was falling. From the knowledge that she was. More in love with him. "And you, Guinevère?" he asked, and her body warmed a little bit more from her name said so perfectly from his lips.
"What picture do you see?" Her small hand shifted and poked out of the blanket as she pointed toward the boots. His larger ones and her smaller ones stood side by side next to the fire to help dry them for use later tonight or tomorrow. "I noticed it earlier," their boots being a symbol for what she wanted. "I know it's a simple thing, but . . . I liked the idea of it being normal. Or better then normal." She teased.
Looking toward him she pulled her hand back inside the blanket she wore. She wanted to touch his slightly wet hair but that would mean taking more then her hand out of the blanket. Finally she said the words that she'd thought before, "And ever since your wedding . . . I've felt hope that once day It might be real." Or non-wedding day. He had walked out of his wedding. For her. For their love!
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 10, 2019 12:56:46 GMT -5
He turned to address the knights. Her knight, or his knights--she wasn't sure any longer. The way he looked at her, and when he'd touched her cheek . . . .
The knights turned to help Merlin--who was returned as well? Merlin had been gone for a while now. All but one left. Percival. The man who had taken up the role of her guard. Perhaps one of her dearest friends now, as they both had come from similar backgrounds and ended up here. She wasn't sure of he was staying because he was concerned for her, or if he was trying to adjust to seeing his friend as well. Perhaps both.
She glanced over at her friend, before looking back at Arthur. "I don't understand," she told him, wanting so much to believe it was him! She believed it, yet there was a fear that this wasn't really him. A fear of how much she wanted this. Of how much it would hurt if this wasn't true. She wanted his touch again, but her body felt heavy under the shock of seeing him. "Prophecized?" She asked, trying to understand. He was meant to pull the sword from the stone? He was meant to come back from the dead? He was meant to save Camelot?
Her fingers finally lifted to reach out to touch his arm, needing to feel that he was alive--though she felt nothing under the chain mail and hated it. So instead she lifted her hands to touch his cheek. He felt so real! "Arthur," it was both a statement that she was believing it was him; and a question in a way.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 10, 2019 12:56:36 GMT -5
"Not just someone, but specifically, you." Gwen shifted her feet at his words, trying to take them in. He needed her? No one had ever needed her. Morgana needed her, but this somehow felt different. "I need someone I can trust." Her brows raised slightly, but he had her full attention. The mystery of what was happening had her taking a small step closer to him, even though her eyes were still cautious.
"I will keep your secrets, my lord," she promised him, not sure why he suddenly trusted her, but wanting to know more. Morgana trusted her, yes, but that had taken years! Did he trust her because Morgana did? Was this something about Morgana? Why had he asked about her nightdress? He kept calling her Guinevère, and she wondered about that too. Yet, not enough to ask him to call her Gwen. She liked the way her name rolled off his lips. Perhaps too much. Maybe she should ask him to call her Gwen. "I am loyal to you and your family. You can trust me." She added on. "What do you need?" Of her, from her. She was willing to help.
Just not in her nightgown.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 10, 2019 12:56:25 GMT -5
No one was in the room, so she turned to shut it and put the picture of water down. Turning back toward him she hurried over with quick steps. He was sitting in his bed, and she had to lean over to reach him better. Her hand touched his cheek. She knew by his voice that it was not the news he hoped for. He hide it well, perhaps too well, which was how she knew. His voice lacked the light, pleased sound that would go with new goods. Yet lacked something that would suggest bad news. So she wasn't sure what ti make of it.
"What news did they bring?" She asked, almost afraid too, but needing to know now. She couldn't wait any longer. She wasn't sure how he would react if this was perminit. She wasn't sure how Uther would react. He was already unset over Arthur's injuries. He seemed both worried, and angry at the same time. She knew Uther loved his son but she also believed that he was a bad father. Not evil, but not good. He put too much on his son. Arthur on the other hand, put too much on himself. He took it all on his shoulders.
The whole kingdom looked to Arthur recently, and she'd been so proud of how he handled it. Yet, it had cost him so much.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 10, 2019 0:42:48 GMT -5
Guinevère stood in the hall waiting for the doctor's to leave. It felt as if it was taking forever! So much had happened recently, and she wasn't sure how they were meant to take all of this end. The kingdom slept, until Arthur saved them--only to find Morgana gone. He'd spent a year looking for her, and finally got her back. Then . . . then this happened. This horrid thing to happen to anyone!
Pacing slowly she twisted her fingers while staring at the door. Doctors were in there now. In there with him. Arthur. She didn't know what would happen when they left but she'd waited days--DAYS--to find out. You see, Arthur Pendragon, the man she loved even though she knew that he could never be her's had been injured. For the last few days he'd had a bandage around his eyes, giving them time to heal. No one knew the damage and she now waited out n the hall for the doctors to leave. For there to be some sign!
Finally the doors opened, and she jumped to grab the picture of (once warm) water that she would be using as an excuse to enter the room. Uther exited quickly followed by the doctors. She waited for them to turn the corner before she stepped closer and knocked on the open door. "My lord," she greeted, using his title in case someone else was in here. Though, it seemed it was just him. "Arthur?" She asked, wondering what they had said.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 10, 2019 0:14:33 GMT -5
"I hope not," Guinevère watched his face, and her own small slipped. Not because he feared he'd say he'd changed his mind, but because she knew this was the beginning of the conversation. The one that would explain what he meant by one day. He explained what he meant, that he wanted something more then normal. He wanted something "To defy what others deem normal." She looked down at her covered lap, and found her soft smile back. She liked that. That they were something more.
Looking back at the fire, and then finally over at him she kept her smile in place. For the moment she'd forgotten that she was sitting before a fire, that she'd been wet and cold, and that she wore nothing under the blanket. "And in this future, where normal is boring and life is anything but . . . " She paused, enjoying the idea that he had spun around them, and not sure she knew how to ask. "Is the strangeness gone?" In truth, it was almost gone now.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 10, 2019 0:00:53 GMT -5
Guinevère had given up on thinking about anything but her husband and his voice in her ear! It made her shiver in delight when he did that! She could feel his fingers in her laces and she smiled knowing where this was going. "You are distracting me from y work!" Though she couldn't quite care, or remember what she'd had hoped to do with her day now! Perhaps that was for later.
Her own hands couldn't find something to comfortably touch! Arthur wore mostly chain mail after all, and she disliked it in this moment. He was so hard to remove! Pulling back just enough, her hands went to stall his over her laces. "When we first fall in love, I decided there was nothing more handsome then you in chain mail." She told him, "Yet now I find it very in covenant." She didn't like not being able to feel him under it. "Perhaps chain mail should be best worn in training, rather then the council room?"
And especially the bed chambers!" Especially if he wanted to be able to charm her from work!
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 23:22:59 GMT -5
He walked over and sat down. Guinevère looked the fire dancing before her, wanting to look at him but everything felt so . . . different right now. Her lips felt dry, so she tried to wet them; which was in contrast to her body which still felt wet from the rain!
Arthur spoke, and she smiled, looking down at her blanket covered lap. Then she laughed softly, before laughing once more. It was a good laugh, "I was thinking the same," Finally she looked at him, her lips smiling at him as if he had broke through part of the awkwardness by just speaking of it. How like Arthur, to cut right to the heart of the matter. It made this feel easier.
"Do you think this will . . . feel normal one day?" Sitting before the fire, without clothes. Since she was looking at him she could see the bed from the edge of her eye, and Guinevère's head moved back to the fire hoping the flames hide her blush. She wet her lips once more and looked back at home. She knew she needed to explain more, but they'd not spoken of it and she wanted his answer. Even if she knew how he would answer, she wanted to hear it. Needed to know that he had that hope, and the same want--that one day they would be together.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 23:09:34 GMT -5
"I admit, that I have often wanted to wear one of your shirts," She liked the idea of being in something that touched him. Of the shirt being big enough to wear comfortably while they sat before the fire. Perhaps just talking or something innocent. She loved the idea of the domestication of it. That it was a sign they were so comfortable around each other that it mattered not who's short it was.
He kissed her neck, and she felt the shirt slip from her fingers! There was something sharp in her chest, and she bit her lip as he offered to move his clothes somewhere else. She was distracted for a moment, but managed to answer with "No, we can share!" Or worst case, get a second wardrobe! Yet she would try to make it work before getting another one! Her head tilted to give him more room to distract her, and there was much she wanted to do today! She wanted to ask him about the room and about moving some things around, and about the weapons on the wall that would be better suited . . . . not here! She wanted to build a home! She wanted to build it with him!
Though this was good too!!!
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 22:45:33 GMT -5
Guinevère was grateful that he gave her the fire. She looked over her shoulder as she moved away, and gave her a nod before turning away. She even kept looking for a moment once he had. She only turned away when he began undressing. Telling him she would undress and undressing felt like two different things. She was nervous, yet felt awake and her skin seemed to have goosebumps everywhere--and none of this felt like a bad feeling.
She pulled her boots off, and put them besides his. The sight of their shoes there (his bigger ones and her smaller ones) made her stop for a moment. There by the fire it looked . . . like something she wanted more then anything. For them to be able to be together, and things like their shoes beside each other felt normal. Perhaps one day . . .
They'd spoken of one day that once in the hall. Yet now, she wanted to know so much more. She made quick work of the rest, and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, looking down to make sure she was covered, before sitting beside the fire, and then calling toward him. "You can come back now." To sit before the fire and warm themselves.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 22:22:09 GMT -5
After he took the blanket, she noticed his shoes, and knew she needed to to the same. His words made her look up at him. Yes, they needed to get out of these wet clothes, and yes she had never undressed near a man before--even when he stayed at her home she had slept in her clothes. She'd changed when she knew he was jousting and did so hurried. Yet, this was something different. Then she was a girl who didn't want a prince to see her under garments!
Now she was a woman who felt a pull toward a man, and needed to remove her traveling clothes. "Then you'd be cold and wet too," she told him, knowing that she'd never send him out to be miserable. She looked around the room, and noticed there was no where to move behind. "I trust you," she told him in a soft voice, knowing she meant it with everything in her. "We can just turn our backs until we are done, and then use the blankets until the clothes are dry."
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 22:19:06 GMT -5
Guinevère enjoyed the kiss, just as much as before . . . well, after last night perhaps she enjoyed it a bit more. Knowing that the kiss could lead to a lot more! She smiled brightly at his jest, after so many months of missing him and their easy way of being friends this interaction was wonderful! Everything she'd dreamed of, and once thought lost too her! It was her's now!
"I did not intend to wear it." She told him with a bright smile, "I intended to ask my husband why he still had such an thread bare shirt?" She knew he liked his clothes comfortable. Arthur was in in chain mail most of the time and she assumed that after wearing the layers upon layers of thick coarse material he wanted something comfortable; and yet he so rarely wore it any more. His white one, yes, but never his red. Yet it still hung there in his wardrobe. Gesturing to her few dresses, she explained. "I found it when I was hanging them up." Yes a servant could have done that, but she wasn't one to sit so idle, and this was their home. She intended to make it theirs!
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 22:06:31 GMT -5
Guinevère tired to catch her breath as her body shook with little tremors from the aftermath of the little explosion inside of her. Her hand wanted to fall limply to her sides, yet the stronger feeling of touching him and using him to hold her into his place won. Her hand loosened their hold, and moved to sooth where she gripped with little circled creases.
Her knees relaxed slightly around his hips, but still held to him, as she loved the feeling of this moment--this moment so unlike anything she'd felt before. Her hand moved to his cheek, needing him to look at her so she could share this feeling with him! She'd never felt closer to him! She could still feel him IN her! Yet the heat they shaped just now, and the way she felt APART of him! Guinevère couldn't explain it with words! Every ounce of her felt taken over and turned into apart of him! She could feel the seed that he'd just put her! It was almost too much to take in! It was perfect!
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 21:38:53 GMT -5
Guinevère loved laughing with him, but wasn't going to leave that last comment unchecked. "I will have you know, that my husband could tell you that is not true. He knows exactly how to please me . . . and he does it quite often." She said, pretending to sound high and mighty, though she was about to laugh with every word; even as she meant ever word she said.
Her hand left his hair and slid over his chest and abdomen, as she curled deeper into his side. She held no shyness with him any longer, even though he still held the power to make her blush. She liked that he enjoyed her body. That he touched her, and wanted to keep touching her. Just as she loved touching him, and feeling his skin, and his mucled move under his skin. The heat from him, the smell of him, and the taste of him! Leaving close she kissed his skin that was near her, tasting him though the kiss. "Very well, indeed!"
The position normally made her think of that once they'd been caught by his father, and even now when thinking of it she wondered if Morgana had led Uther there. Not sure how she would have known, but didn't put anything above her. Yet, her thought never lingered enough to ruin this moment.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 9, 2019 21:09:29 GMT -5
He said she didn't need to thank him, but she did. She would never take it for granted that he loved her enough to risk his life or her's. He'd risked his life by following her horse's mad dash through the storming country side. If either horse has stepped into a hole, they'd been killed. And she couldn't live with herself if she'd gotten him killed. "I am still grateful," she repeated softly.
Her fingers shifted over his, as she lingered there--the most she'd allowed herself to touch him since---perhaps the most she'd ever allowed herself to touch touch him. For some reason there was something in this place that allowed her to forget that things were so impossible between them. Shivering she made herself let go of his fingers, and held her's more toward the fire. Looking around the room she noticed there was only one blanket. Useless until they found something dry to wear, or their clothes dried off; or else it would be wet too.
At the end of the bed there was a small chest. Moving over toward it she found another blanket, and some thread bare sheets. Pulling the blanket from the bed she carried both of them over to the fire. She knew what needed to be said, but didn't know how to say it--they needed to remove some of their clothes, in order to wrap the blanket around them to get warm. "You should use this." She told him, holding it out, "before you catch your death."
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 8, 2019 23:50:36 GMT -5
Guinevère was shaking she was so cold. And sore from the jerking of the horse after it was startled by the storm. She wondered of any of the others were having trouble. While she hoped they did, she would be glad they didn't. She didn't want to be the only one who struggled, but she didn't want anyone else in this storm. Surely they would camp, and Arthur and her could catch up once this storm passed.
Arthur. He'd once again saved her, uncaring how it looked. She knew they had to be careful, but she was glad he'd came for her. That somehow they'd ended up here. Alone.
Entering the room she was glad there was a fire going. Knowing that they had to share it, meant she'd not be able to use a warm bath to try to warm herself. Moving toward it, she made sure there was room for him as well. They were. Alone. Guinevère had tried to let him go. Knowing he had to marry a princess, she'd told him too. Been firm with him. Broken her own heart to help him make the choice he needed to make---and he decided to wait for her. The thought warmed her more then the fire. They'd not spoke of it, but it was there between them every time they passed each other or held each other's gaze. "Come warm yourself," she told him, knowing they were both soaking wet! Her tunic clung to her skin.
When he came over toward the fire, her cold fingers grasps his, as she rubbed her's over his to warm them both. Guinevère didn't look at their linked hands however, as she looked up at him. "Thank you," she whispered. "For coming after me."
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 8, 2019 22:56:59 GMT -5
Gwen watched her husband each his breakfast, and tried to figure out if he knew anything. Surely not. Morgana had been right before him for years and he hadn't seen her for what she was. The true heir right under his nose. Now he sat there quietly eating his food, and she knew something was off. She had to pretend to care. Smiling softly she commented on it, making sure her voice held some concern in it. "You've hardly touched your food." She observed, taking a bite and reaching for her wine class.
Arthur made an excuse, and claimed he had training with his men. Gwen knew he was hiding something. She knew him too well. Years of giving, and giving, and giving. Only to have her brother killed, and her true friend cast out of Camelot for rebelling against her father. Morgana was right. He ruled with weakness. If he loved the people they would thrive? His lack of control had led to Elyan in the tower alone and dead. His father had killed her father, and she'd let him touch her. She didn't understand how she had ever betrayed Morgana. Morgana had been right all along.
Walking to the window, she waited to see of he left the citadel, to see if he was really training. When he never appeared she pressed her lips together. Another lie. She needed to figure out what he was keeping from her, and get it safely to Morgana.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 8, 2019 21:58:19 GMT -5
Guinevère, the new queen of Camelot, laid out the dresses on the bed and turned to look around the room. It would take time, as she told Arthur, but his chambers were looking clean already. Last night the chambers had had candles everywhere! She walked in and the whole room glittered and twinkled. It was something beyond what she could dream! The flowers, the candles, the romance! The touching, the tasting, and the night they shared! Everything was magical! He'd made her his wife in name. Now, she needed to be his wife in space.
She turned to walk to the wardrobe and opened it. Pulling out one of Arthur's old red shirts she noticed how worn it it. Just then the doors opened and she looked up. Arthur! Smiling she walked to meet him part of the way into the room, and tilted her face up for a kiss. Today they would begin sharing their worlds! As husband and wife! Today they would begin a shared era of happiness.
Breaking the kiss, she looked up at him. "Husband," she greeted, enjoying the sound on her lips. The old red shirt forgotten in her hands, because in this moment (especially after the wonders of last night . . . . and this morning), she was enjoying touching him. The knowing touch that only lovers shared.
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 6, 2019 22:30:02 GMT -5
The battle started, and everyone moved faster, and with more energy then before. Each swing of a sword was more powerful; and each man was a more personal mission. No longer did the room seem to be fighting to stall, but to live and to win. It was stronger then any encouraging talk she could have given them--to see their king there fighting with the sword that proved he was the once and future king. She stood there, on the step that held her above the others and watched him fight. Watched him move, and swing the blade of destiny. Arthur. He moved like him, and sounded like him. He fought like him. She wanted nothing more then to bli--
The sword getting close to her snapped her out of her stupor, and she lifted the sword to block the attack, and fought with her knights. His knights. Their knights. She would look toward HIM every change she got (almost afraid he wouldn't be there) and it seemed he was the eye of the storm now. Moving toward it's center.
She took a step backwards, and turned when she head someone approach--Him. Arthur! His back toward her and she realized now what he'd been doing. He was moving toward her. Not going to the center of the fight, but putting himself between the fight and her. She paused, watching his fight, the way he moved, the way he handled the sword--something she'd watched for more years then she had gotten to love him. The sword glimmered int he light of the room. She knew the man, She knew the fighting style, she knew the sword--yet it was like she was looking at him from a distance. As if she wanted this to badly to be him that she was afraid to trust it. Afraid that if she did then it would be a trick--or worse, it wouldn't and she'd loose him again.
The room slowly fell quite as the fighting ended. Until only Camelot knights stood tall, and the rest where dead, unwake, or surrendering. Kneeling after their certain victory. HE turned to face her, and she gripped her sword tighter--not in fear but as if it would support her when she fell. They stared at each other, and he tossed THE sword down before walking toward her. It was when the emotion finally broke--the moment he touched her. Her face crumbled as it pressed into the cool metal, and his arms--the thick bands of straighten that she'd known so well, wrapped around her. Her hands came up around him and held him tighter, her sword dropping loudly to the stone ground. She knew she was crying. Queens didn't cry in court! Yet in this moment she wasn't a queen--she was a wife! His wife! And even though she was afraid to trust that he was here, she still weeped with gladness that he was.
She prayed this wasn't a trick, that this was really Arthur. She wanted to feel his body, and not the cold mental, and she hated his chain mail in this moment; even though it was what kept him alive in the last few moments. Pulling back just enough to look into his face, she blinked up at him. She wasn't sure what to say. Please be real?
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Post by Guinevère on Mar 6, 2019 22:29:34 GMT -5
Gwen blinked as he took her hand and bent over it. He kissed her hand! Like the knights did to the ladies! She felt her heart jump at the gesture, and her cheeks warmed from a slight blush. No one hand ever done that. She'd seen it done before, many times. Morgana had had her hand kissed more times then Gwen knew, but never had anyone done it too her. It made her feel important, and pretty, and . . . something else.
She stood there for a moment, smiling softly up at him before she blinked and remembered why he was here. "There is no need to thank me, thank Merlin." She told him while she moved to pick up the measuring cloth she used to measure for clothes. She could make little marks and record everything. "Merlin would do anything for anyone!" She held a slightly amused tease in her voice, while still filled with honestly. Merlin and her had that in common, though Gwen would never admit it.
She stepped up closer to him, and knelled near his legs so she could wrap the cloth around his calves, and then move it higher to his thigh. Trying to ignore her feelings of that, she marked them as she stood. Moving swiftly, and with practice ease. "I think it's good." She told him, "We need more mean like you!" She said encouragingly as she stepped behind him and begin to measure down his arm.
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