A legend begins (Closed for Homerun2611)

[DarkEmpress]

Guinevere grew up, the daughter of a proud and loved leader in a city that was underpinned in deep-seated pagan beliefs and customs. But once the Romans arrived, her peaceful and serene society slowly vanished like brilliant and radiant embers flying into the night sky, burning out until there was nothing left but pain and despair. Many had fled the brutality of it, families and friends torn apart, until there was nothing but remnants of what there once was. Guinevere’s father was the first to be executed for defying their ‘laws’. Those that stayed lived hard lives as servants while the rest were outlawed, embracing a nomadic lifestyle.

There were rumours of a new commander that was coming to rule the castle called Camelot in the Roman province they called Brittan. The news caused a scurry of activity with many houses of power ramping up their efforts to establish authority, especially the church and its unorthodox endeavours to eradicate the pagan religion.

Any pagans that were caught were subjected to ‘cleansing’ rituals to bring them into the light, which was nothing more than horrific rituals of torture that were ordained by the church. And on one fateful night, Guinevere was in the wrong place at the wrong time... Because she was fiercely proud and steadfast in her beliefs, the priests took her conquest and cleansing as a personal challenge.

They had taken her into an underground set of catacombs that very few ever emerged from again. She had no idea how long she had been down there. Every inch of her body felt as if it was doused in acid and burning as pain racked her small frame. Thankfully, the uncontrollable shivers had stopped a while back… every move had sent a fresh pang of pain jolting through her nervous system. She closed her eyes, her thoughts slowly retreating to the back of her mind… slower and slower.

Voices filled the space around her as light suddenly flooded the small space she was crammed into. She instinctively huddled into a tighter ball, too scared of what the light heralded. She felt a pair of strong hands tighten around her wrists as they pulled her out of the hole, she was caged in. An anguished cry of pain escaped her lips, her body shuddering at the intensity of it.

“Good lord, Sire,” a horrified voice said next to her. She heard a scurry of feet on the ground and a pained gasp escaped her lips as something warm was wrapped around her. She tried to pry her blue eyes open but it was all a jumble, her eyes refusing to focus, her skin unnaturally pale with dark raven hair wilting from the cape she was wrapped in. She weighed next to nothing, her entire body weak and drained, a mere husk of the vibrant and bubbly person she once was.

She whimpered against his chest, and as they emerged from the catacombs she closed her eyes tightly against the blistering rays of the sun … it had been weeks … months, since she had last seen it. The fresh air was almost suffocating her as her laboured breathing hissed past her dry lips.

“Thank... you,” she managed to whisper, breathlessly, before darkness wrapped its dark tendrils around her… her entire life precariously hanging in the balance.

 

[Homerun2611]

“A law was made a distant moon ago here ….” Arthur was furious, as the one Priest tried to justify the barbaric tactics of which Arthur had just been made aware.

How was it he had come to rule this land, far away from the sophistication of Rome, Egypt and the more civilzed and cultured lands of what would be Europe and Africa, and only now was learning of this place, this barbarism, all done in the name of Christianity.

It had been nearly six months since he had sailed the great sea and landed here in the Roman holding of Britain. He had begged for the assignment, an assignment none but he wanted. All the other generals had been happy in their lives, happy with the gross excesses and gluttonous consumption that was the Roman Empire. It only sickened Arthur, he wanted a land free of Roman customs and scrutiny, and this far western port of the Empire seemed the right spot.

Yes, he was a General, not intended, the one not like the others. Not born in nobility or any class at all. He’d been just a boy, in a small town, trying to protect a mother, absent a father since as long as he remembered. He was an innocent, barely an adolescent, as his small village was the battle ground, Romans attacking on one side, mongols on the other. The Romans were wanton, grotesque in many ways, but the others, the tales of their torture and cruelty made the legends of Roman excesses seem trivial.

He was young, and like his fellow villagers, not pledged to either cause. Arthur was smart, young, and as the battle played out on each side of him, he saw the tide turning in a most unfortunate way. The Romans had been tricked, their officers ambushed and killed, the mongols had momentarily pulled back to camp, they would kill the remaining lot tomorrow. The Romans who could, fled, the others stayed to face their fate. Arthur knew things neither of the warring armies did. Where oil was stored, dry hay was hidden, and so as sun set, he had gone to work. Acting on his own, he set a trap, barricaded the assumed victors and when he set fire to the scattered hay, soaked in olive oil, he engulfed the savages.

Sun had just been rising as the Roman’s assembled trying to fight. However, instead of defeat they awoke to victory, and there, standing on a massive rock, a sword nearly as big as he was in his hand, was their savior. At 14 Arthur, the cunning and industrious young lad he was, became the youngest lige leader in the Roman brigage. By 17 he was a full fledged general.

He lead like no other. Not raised to be an autocrat, he built consensus, led by example, established councils of worth advisors, and with each endeavor, each action, his legend grew. Camelot would be his last stop, the place where the boy general, appointed by Ceasar himself, would be declared King, not by his own accord but by the people who served him.

”A law was made a distant moon ago here…” Again the priest tried to explain. “What law, by who?” Arthur bellowed. He was six foot two, a mountain of a man in his time, 13 stones, or 195 pounds of muscle. The Priest wished he could crawl into a hole himself. Arthur’s hair was jet black was wavy and down to his shoulders, his eyes a blue that rivaled the Mediteranean itself, his skin olive and bronzed by long rides in the sun. He was as handsomely striking as he was intimidating, if he wanted to be. Othertimes, unlike today, he had a pearly smile and his eyes danced with a unique combination of wisdom, strength and playfulness. Not today.

He had walked in on two priests speaking, “There are only eighteen sourceress’s left, two have perished, two have redeemed.” In and instant Arthur realized the implication. Grabbing each of the two Priests conversing, he held them so their tiptoes barely met the ground. “You fucking barbarians, tell me what you have done and where?” He was sickened as he was given the details.

”Summon Merlin …” He yelled to one of his house maidens. “The sorcerer, oh no Sire that is not …“

”Hush or you will suffer far more than any of the women you hold prisoner.. .take me to them, NOW!” It had been a two hour ride to the catacombs to where Guinevere and the others were imprisoned. It was worse than he thought, of the 18 women he found that day, four would perish while trying to get them back to Camelot, they were the oldest, the idea these women had been exposed to this was beyond cruel.

As soon as he pulled them out, he would put them on horseback and held by one of his men, ridden back. By the time he got to the deepest part, she was the only one left. “Good lord, Sire,” She had been put in a hole, the cold and stench at this deep resource thick. Rats scurried all about. “I think she’s alive … she is malnourished but …” He didn’t say it, but her hair, her eyes, they were simply stunning contrasted agains her ivory skin. If she were permanently scarred, his wraith would reign down hard. He had Merlin prepared, he had ointments, herbs and tonics, all sorts of treatments from his mistress of the woods, Morgan Le Fey. If they couldn’t treat and heal her and the others, nothing would.

He reached down, pulled her up himself, wrapping his cloak around her, before lifting her into his arms. He carried her out, but saw as she winced at the sun. He tucked the cape around her, shielded her eyes. He was so strong, yet tender, nurturing, as he found a place to sit down, assess if she could even travel.

”Thank .. you,” he heard her whisper. He could only shake his head, he felt such guilt and sham. “Please don’t say thank you, the men who did this, I am responsible for them, and I am sorry. They will pay.” He signaled for water, and a canteen was brough to him and he pressed it to her lips. He brushed her hair back from her eyes, only to look into them, and he felt the beat of his heart. “Who are you my lady, and how long have you been here, imprisoned?”

He pulled her closer, he felt her shivering, and pressed her into his strong chest. “I am Arthur, and I will take you to Camelot, get you treated, get you rest. You are safe now .. I promise you, no one will hurt you again….”

 

[DarkEmpress]

All she could feel was a pair of strong arms holding her gently, cradling her against his chest. It has been so long since she’s had any human contact that wasn’t cruel… malevolent… She could hear his deep baritone voice reverberate in his chest as he spoke, but her mind couldn’t quite focus on the words. “… don’t say……men……. sorry….” Her tortured mind was hiding somewhere far away, her body incredibly weak, it was less effort to just close her eyes and try and stop the world from spinning around.

Something was put at her lips and when she realised it was water, Guinevere tried to drink slowly. A gentle hand swept across her face, moving the wayward curls away and her eyes fluttered open, staring up at a beautiful man with mesmerising eyes. Tears were silently running down her cheeks.

“Who are you my lady, and how long have you been here, imprisoned?”
This time his words registered, but she couldn’t quite summon her voice. Taking another small sip of water, she tried, “Gui…” it was so much effort. She closed her eyes and willed her lips to move… “Guinevere,” the word ghosted from her lips.

The uncontrollable shivers were back and he held her – closer - his body warmth slowly seeping into her veins. Guinevere turned into him, folding one of her hands into his shirt, holding on for dear life. His last words were drifting around the edges of her mind and the word, ”Camelot” conjured a sense of dread in her, but her body was spent and her mind was retreating … further … and further away, until she went limp in his arms.

----****----

The road to recovery was arduous. At first, she drifted in and out of consciousness often with her mind refusing to make sense of the world around her. Her dreams were filled with the vision of a man… strong, gentle… beautiful blue eyes, their depths filled with so many conflicting emotions. And yet another of an older gentleman who was often holding her wrist, checking her forehead or applying some or other treatment to the many injuries she had.

Her strength was slowly returning to the point where she could sit up and eat something. The curious thing, however, was the little flutter her heart made every time Arthur walked into the room and for the life of her, she could not understand why. The way he held her hand and spoke to her was heartbreakingly gentle and she found herself retracing the places where he touched her with a fingertip once he left, her skin still tingling from the intensity of it. She could still feel his strong arms wrapped around her, and she closed her eyes and imagined it once more.

While Arthur and Merlin tried their best to keep Guinevere in a little cocoon, she was not oblivious to the stares she received from the rest of the people in the castle, or the whispers in the hallways. A small little ray of sunshine came in the form of Sarah, a servant who was assigned to Guinevere’s room, who just happened to be from the village that Guinevere grew up in. They became fast friends and spent hours talking about what was actually going on outside these walls.

It made Guinevere so much more determined to get stronger, to get better, so she could leave this place, try and find a way to help her people and somehow repay Arthur for his kindness. When he was around everything was right as rain; but she did not feel safe here… she did not trust them.

 

[Homerun2611]

Arthur had a decision to make as he mounted his horse and began his trip back to Camelot. He was disgusted by what he had encoutered and more trouble by the men who had taken such action in the name of this so called God. Arhtur himself was Christian, but neither pious or fanatical, instead living a life and trying to build a kingdoms based on adherence to the simple golden rule.

She was frail but the question was whether to swiftly try to get the maiden back to the castle, or go more slowly, minimize the jostling and let her have a sense of peace.? He sensed she was weak, and definitely in need of treatment, rest and soothing, but he did not sense imminent peril and thought the slower trip would be better for her.

His steed, Mist, a gorgeous soft grey Andalusian stallion, a soft, distinctive color such that when Aruther rode through the dense fogs that often inhabited the bogs and wild grass fields of Briton, he would appear as if floating on a cloud. Mist wa a testament to his breed, a commanding 17 hands, despite being able to run at the speed of the wind. Mist was well trained, and with simple voice commands and careful use of his Master’s heels, Arthur could guide him home.

This allowed him to keep the maiden, Guinevere, held in his two strong arms. In her sleep, he was able to gaze down upon her face, her delicate featrures, the contrast and the beauty of her raven hair against her pale skin. He made her many promises, some spoken, some silent, each with equal probability of being heard, that not only would this not happen to any maiden again, but that she, was now his personal responsibility, and under his protective care.

Arthur was near 25 years old, old to not yet found a wife. He had had lovers, in both instances older women, women of magic who had lured him under spells, only to eventually fall in love with him and grant his release from their charms. But Arthur himself had never felt that stir, that tug in his heart, that need that was nearly overwhemling, but he had also never held or seen a woman that did for him what this fair maiden did, simply with her presence. He dismissed any such thoughts, his role at the moment was to see her home safely and ensure her proper care.

There was much to admire and enjoy back in the Castle of Camelot, things that made people want to come and stay and never leave. It wasn’t just the beauty and care of the facility itself, its lush gardens, its ponds, lakes and fountains. It was the freedom and devotion that people were allowed to enjoy and live their daily lives. As soon as she was able Arthur hoped to personally take her out in the sun, to enjoy their gardens and flowers. With each mile he became more intrigued, who was this woman, and what could she possibly have done to have been so imprisoned?

When he got to the castle he was met by Merlin, and his staff. Merlin was considered by many to be a demon, a man of magic, and while part of it was true, he had been Arthur’s guide from the beginning and the individual he most trusted. There was a new girl who had been added to the court, Sarah, and she was made to be the new guest’s lady in waiting. Guinevere was given her own quarters complete with a small balcony overlooking the gardens below. Arthur instructed that fresh flowers be brought to her daily, and that Merlin himself attend to her care.

Sarah was beautiful and young and had already drawn the eye of two of Arthur’s finest leaders, men who would become knights of his eventual realm, Gawain and Kay, Gawain nearly six foot three and mount of a man with dark, jet black hair and full beard, while Gawain was fair, blonde with soft blue eyes. As Arthur watched his men court the young maiden he became aware that Sarah, not only served the Maiden Guinvere now, but had known her for some time.

As he visited the Lady Guinever to delver flowers, take her hand and lead her to sit on her balcony or simply chat on her health and if she was happy with her care, he noticed the familiarity between the women. Arthur wanted to know more, and so he arranged for Lady Sarah to join him in a private dinner. After exchanging small talk, ensuring she was happy with her life and role in Camelot, he finally got to the question burning in his mind.

”I understand that you have known Lady Guinverver for some time? Yet somehow you avoided the persecution that she and some others endured. Would you mind telling me about what happened? And what you might remember of Lady Guinevere prior to Roman occupation?”

 

[DarkEmpress]

Sarah was very flattered to be invited for dinner with Arthur, but as she suspected, he was curious about Guinevere. She had seen the way he looked at her mistress… and more importantly, she had seen the way her mistress looked at him. She could actually feel the chemistry crackling in the air whenever they were together, and if she could help push him in the right direction…

Imagine that, Sarah McLochlan, playing cupid. She grinned at the thought as she sat down at the table with Arthur. He was painstakingly polite and gently eased them onto the topic he really wanted to talk about.

”I understand that you have known Lady Guinevere for some time?” Arthur asked.

“Aye, Sire, we grew up together,” she said, giving Arthur a warm smile. “I have known Guin her whole life.”

“Yet somehow you avoided the persecution that she and some others endured. Would you mind telling me about what happened? And what you might remember of Lady Guinevere prior to Roman occupation?” Arthur gently asked.

Sarah’s smile faltered, dark memories clouding her mind. She didn’t quite know how to tell him this, without perhaps angering him. He was Roman, after-all.

“Well, Sire,” she began, trying to choose her words very carefully. “When the Romans came here, they wanted control of the land.” Sarah halted, taking a deep breath. “Sire, they destroyed our village and the first person they executed as a show of power was Guin’s father, our leader. She fought so bravely, Sire,” Sarah said, her eyes overly bright. “Guin tried to get as many of us out as she could before they took her, Sire,” Sarah said, wiping a wayward tear from her eye. “I thought I was not goin’ ta see her again, until you found her, Sire.”

Sarah placed her hand over Arthur’s in a solemn gesture, “Thank you for saving her, Sire, you are a godsend,” Sarah said earnestly.

Arthur was too polite to cut their dinner short, but Sarah could see he had a lot to think about. She found a wayward reason to be excused from the dinner table, but before she left, Sarah took a very small liberty, “Sire, if I may be so bold…” she said halting at the door and appraising the man before her, who genuinely seemed like a nice man, and perhaps the leader they have needed all this time? “Sire, our people adore Guin… and if you could find it in your heart to love her as much as we do, Sire, you may conquer the hearts of more than just one,” she said, before disappearing into the hallway.

----****----

Every day, she felt a little stronger. Guin had risen early and she had gingerly made her way onto the balcony, watching the sunrise as it shimmered over the ocean in the distance, the beautifully manicured gardens that surrounded the castle were in full bloom and Guin was admiring the riot of colours. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a training courtyard, where the knights, swordsmen and archers were practicing their craft. She tilted her head to the side, pondering an idea. Guin has always been known for her impressive archery skills, and though she wasn't quite herself yet, she would love to get on the field and fire a few arrows. The thought filled her with newfound determination to get her strength back.

“Good morning, mistress,” Sarah said as she entered the room, bringing Guin back from her silent reverie.

“Good morning, Sarah,” Guin answered, giving her a warm smile.

“Let’s get you dressed before Arthur finds you in this state of undress,” Sarah teased.

Guin levelled a knowing look at her, “It won’t work, Sarah,” she said.

Minutes later Guin was dressed in a beautiful deep blue dress, that highlighted her eyes, her raven hair spiralling down her back. It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door and Arthur walked in. That familiar little flutter in her tummy, still a curious reaction.

“Good morning,” she said, giving Arthur a warm smile.

Sarah disappeared into the hallway, giving Arthur a conspiratorial look as she returned a few minutes later with a beautiful setting of tea on an ornate tray that she set out on the balcony, before making herself scarce.

“It is a beautiful day,” Guin said, as she took a sip of the tea that Sarah had made for her. Guin was stealing furtive glances at Arthur from under her lashes as she sipped her tea. He truly was a gorgeous man, the wind playing wistfully with the strands of hair along his temples, his sun-kissed skin taking on a glowing quality in the morning light… those beautiful eyes…

She could not, however, gauge him. All his predecessors were blood-thirsty monsters who destroyed everything in their path… but he seemed, different.

“What are you doing today?”

 

[Homerun2611]

Lady Sarah

Sitting down to dinner, where Guinevere was a raven haired beauty, classically stunning, Sarah was her own flavor of beauty, ginger haired, deliciously freckled, with green eyes that would make emeralds jealous. The way the candlelight danced off her fair skin and fiery hair, Arhur could understand how both of his most close friends had fallen for her. She had the type of beauty that made men want, and cocks to need.

It wasn’t as if Arthur was immune to her innocent charms himself, it was just he was finding himself obsessed by another, and his very nature was to be true, even when those feelings had yet to be acted on, or requited

He had enjoyed the small talk, people tended to be stiff and guarded with him, no matter how much he tried to encourage openness and freedom of thought, even criticism. He spoke with both candor and empathy, an innate sense of justice, and the goodness of his heart tended to come through in his openness and candor.

But it was when the conversation turned to Lady Guinevere he sat up a bit, and leaned forward, not wanting to miss a word, and it was clear his young dinner guest noticed.

“I have known Guin her whole life.”

He smiled at the shortening of her name, it was cute, it suited her, and clearly suggested Sarah‘s intimacy with the Lady. He hoped it would not be long before they felt equally comfortable with each other.

“Well, Sire,” she began, trying to choose her words very carefully. “When the Romans came here, they wanted control of the land.” Sarah halted, taking a deep breath. “Sire, they destroyed our village and the first person they executed as a show of power was Guin’s father, our leader. She fought so bravely, Sire,” Sarah said, her eyes overly bright. “Guin tried to get as many of us out as she could before they took her, Sire,” Sarah said, wiping a wayward tear from her eye. “I thought I was not goin’ ta see her again, until you found her, Sire.”

It was uncomfortable to hear as he was sure it was for Sarah to tell it, but it was also full of insight into both the background character of the woman and clearly part of the package he somehow intuitively knew that attracted him.

Arthur smiled, and wanted to reach out, but did not want the woman to think he was trying to take advance. “Thank you for your candor, I know that was not easy, and I want you to know I take no offense. I am not originally Roman, few people know this, but my choice to ally with Rome, was a choice between a rock and a hard place. I have not regretted my choice, but I also do not agree with many of its tactics. I say this to you in confidence as some would consider such words treason, however, I am hoping to do things differently, and I believe better here, but… for what it is worth … I am sorry for what you and your people endured.”

That was what made Arthur, Arthur, why some thought him dangerous, and others loved him. There were few who sat on the fence, and he had as many detractors back in Rome, as he had loyalists who had followed him here.

”I am not surprised to hear of your Lady’s actions, I knew she was much more than simply a rare and stunning beauty….” He thought a moment, “… I hope you do not consider this too forward …. But before, was she betrothed, promised?” He saw the look in Sarah’s eyes, “No, I do not ask so I could harm him, I would reconcile them, I have no desire to try to intercede, if one’s heart already belongs to another?”

Her parting words comforted him greatly, inspired Arthur to act … albeit carefully and respectfully.

“Sire, if I may be so bold…” she said halting at the door and appraising the man before her, who genuinely seemed like a nice man, and perhaps the leader they have needed all this time? “Sire, our people adore Guin… and if you could find it in your heart to love her as much as we do, Sire, you may conquer the hearts of more than just one,”

Arthur got up moving toward her, wanting to catch her, and bowing as he did, reaching out his hand, to give her’s a respectful kiss. “My Lady … you have been kind … I would like to think I could draw on you again… but I promise, it will never be to disavow your allegiance to Lady Guinevere, but only to give me insight as to how I might best, make up for my countrymen’s past transgressions?”

He stood up, but held her hand a bit longer. “And … my Lady, I do believe you have captured a few hearts yourself, as you should have, for if my Knights, do not appreciate the rare and beautiful flower that you are … then I simply need a better and more discerning set of men!” He gave her a wink, he may be her leader, but he was also her friend.

Lady Guinevere

Arthur had taken his time that morning, bathing and being shaved, a practice in his time, that while cleansing was not without duress. He had personally gone to the gardens, to pick a wildflower bouquet. It was a time of lilacs and tulips that grew in abundance in the tended flower beds, coupled with babies breath and greens, it made for a small but beautiful display.

Yet nothing in his hand compared to what he encountered upon his arrival. “Good morning,”

He walked with the grace and strength of a natural leader, yet stopped smiling. “How could any morning when I am the beneficiary of such beauty and grace … “ He nodded to Sarah as well. “… be anything but a good morning. I hope you slept well My Lady?”

Putting his left hand which held the flowers, behind his back, he took the offered hand, and bowed, giving it a soft and gentle kiss. He held her hand and stood, bringing the flowers out, and coupling his hands on hers to give her his small token. “How is it my lady that no matter what dress you choose, you put to shame any bouquet that I can select for you?” The words were sincere and this was as close to flirting, and was most definitely Arthur’s attempt at courting.

They had their tea on the balcony, small briskets and strawberry jam included. They were nearing their close, when Arthur broached the topic he was waiting on, an offer and he felt his heart beat faster than any enemy could ever inspire.

“I thought today we might get you away from here, I would like to have a picnic prepared and perhaps the two of us go riding, walk along the shoreline….” His eyes going up, looking out at the sea, that was only a few miles from the castle, “if you believe you could endure my company for an extended duration?”

 

[DarkEmpress]

Arthur was certainly very disarming in his sweet compliments. "I hope you slept well My Lady?”
he asked, and Guin smiled into his eyes with a, “Yes, I did, thank you,” which completely belied the dark circles under her eyes that Sarah had artfully hidden away. “I hope you had a lovely evening too?” she asked.

He presented her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and another outrageous compliment, that made Guin’s cheeks dust in a slight blush. “Thank you, so much,” she said, taking the flowers from him and admiring them for a moment. “You are much too kind and very gallant, kind Sir,” she said, softly.

“I thought today we might get you away from here, I would like to have a picnic prepared and perhaps the two of us go riding, walk along the shoreline….” Guinevere was staring at the ocean, and she couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day. She desperately needed some diversion.
“I would love that,” she said, “May I have a quick moment to change into something more appropriate, and I’ll meet you at the stables?” Arthur agreed and made his way out of the room, while Sarah came back in to help Guinevere.
“Are ya strong enough to go riding, Mistress?” Sarah asked, giving Guin a slight frown.
“I don’t know, Sarah, but I can’t sit around here the whole day, it is driving me insane,” Guinevere said, earnestly.
“Just as long as ye be careful,” Sarah berated her.

Moments later Guin was in the stable and was met with a very grave Merlin who was giving her a scornful look. “You, young lady, are in no position to go riding,” he said sternly, as he levelled his next scornful look at Arthur. “The only way that she is getting on horseback: is if she is riding on Mist - with you,” Merlin said, "or if you both take Mist for a walk." The image was so preposterous that Guin couldn’t quite help the smile that was tugging at her lips. “I promise, I will be careful,” she said, taking Merlin’s hand in hers and giving him a little squeeze of appreciation. She honestly did not know where she would be if it wasn’t for his and Arthur’s kindness.

Without any further ado, she was hoisted up into Mist’s saddle in front of Arthur, wearing a riding outfit that hugged her form. Memories of the day he pulled her out of her worst nightmare came flooding back as Arthur placed his arms around her. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her, remembering once more why she loved being in his arms.

Guin leaned in against him, the intimacy of it sending a slight shiver down her spine. His body warmth against her, his breath playing across the back of her neck, wreaking havoc on her senses. Arthur was saying something, but his words did not quite register. She answered, “yes”, not even knowing what she was saying yes to, and they were off.

She had a deep appreciation for Arthur’s choice in stallions. Mist truly was a glorious creature to behold and could only really be appreciated upon a saddle. He effortlessly raced with them across the fields, carefully trotting down a rocky path and onto the beach. Guinevere was captivated by it, the sea sand was sugar white and so fine, it almost looked powdery; the sea itself, a beautiful translucent turquoise colour with the sun leaving fractured sun circles shimmering upon the water. The beautiful fresh salty air blowing on a gentle breeze, just enough to break the heat.

“It is beautiful,” Guinevere breathed, mesmerised, as she gently placed her hands on Mist’s mane, bringing him to a slow halt. She stared over the ocean for the longest moment. “Thank you,” she said as she turned and leaned back to look at Arthur, but her eyes were level to Arthur's beautiful lips as she turned. For the longest moment, her eyes lingered there, before they meandered up to his eyes and she once again wondered why she found him so disarming… she had every reason in the world to hate him… and yet…

 

[Homerun2611]

She was beautiful, beguiling, but Arthur saw the fatigue that was still ravaging her body, as he asked her if she was sleeping well in her new home? “Yes, I did, thank you,” She had the good manners to be gracious, but what was robbing someone so clearly needing rest of achieving such? He looked at her bed, it was a fine as any in the castle, the balcony and open window, perhaps their were sounds coming from the courtyard disturbing her, or maybe it was just being cooped up, and fresh air was needed, and fresh air he could provide.

As far as her next question, “I hope you had a lovely evening too?” He was careful not to look at the Lady Sarah, but couldn’t help wonder if she had shared her evening and dinner with Lady Guinevere? “In fact I did, someone I had never had the chance to meet before, it was only a brief visit, but I was entirely captivated, I hope we will meet again soon.“ He never looked over at Lady Sarah, but even in his periphery, he was quite certain he saw her blush at his words.

They exchanged pleasantries, flowers, even subtle flirting, but Arthur wanted more. She was holding back, and he wanted to pierce the veil, if that was even possible. Armed with the information from Sarah, he hoped she might be willing to give her account, and learn he was not those men, if he hadn’t already made that obvious.

He wanted an opportunity for the two of them to be alone, free of prying eyes, and wagging tongues. Even though he knew the very idea of he taking the Lady away on his own, had its own element of scandal induced. Was it proper to take a maiden absent any type of chaperone or Lady to ensure her care? It was not, yet ArThur could scarcely hide his pleasure and enthusiasm at her acceptance.

Arthur left her to change, and had the horses readied, only to be confronted by Merlin. “She is not ready Arthur … she is still frail, physically and more importantly mentally …” Merlin ‘was one of the few to address Arthur by his first name, but he had been with him since he was a child, part father, part counselor. Arthur went silent, he did not take Merlin’s concerns lightly, “What if she rode with me, if I held her, protected her, I believe she trusts me.”

Merlin cocked his brow, “Arthur, I believe she is attracted to you, I am not sure she trusts anyone, do not confuse the two. She was tortured and imprisoned to near the breaking point, perhaps beyond … be gentle with her… control your desires, if she is to entertain you, it will be on her time.”

Arthur could not take his eyes off of Guinevere, if her dress was to help diminish his desire, she had failed miserably, she looked delicious. Merlin gave his orders, and Arthur lifted and cradled the beautiful lady in his arms. “It is a beautiful day for a ride My Lady, you just let me know if you need ot slow or stop along the way…”. Arthur might as well of been talking to himself, but he didn’t mind as he felt her relax and lean back into him. “You need not worry, even if you need ot sleep, I will care for you, and wake you when we get to the sea.”

Even when she answered, “yes” he was not sure to what she was responding or if it mattered? It was a beautiful day, the sky blue, the sun reigning down, a rare sight in these parts and one to simply be enjoyed. Mist was guided from a walk to a trot to a canter, and soon was at full gallop. “Do you like to ride yourself?“ He smiled, “I almost hope you’ll say know, so that I must be your personal escort.”

Arthur was strong, commanding in the saddle, but to enjoy the countryside, while inhaling her scent, feeling the wisps of her dark, thick hair tickle his chest and face, was near paradise. They needed to traverse a steep and rocky path to get down to the white sands and acqua marine waters. “You best look up, it is a bit frightening if you look on the sides, but do not worry, Mist never slips or misplaces a step.”. SUre enough they were standing with his front hooves in the water whose gentle waves lapped against and cooled and soothed his hooves.

He let her take it in, “It is beautiful,” Guinevere breathed, mesmerised, as she gently placed her hands on Mist’s mane, bringing him to a slow halt. She stared over the ocean for the longest moment. “Thank you,” They were in no rush, quite the opposite. He cradled her, “It is, I am glad you like it. It is my favorite place to come, think, enjoy the beauty of this country, but I have never enjoyed it like I am today.”

She turned toward him, he wanted to kiss her, but Merlin’s words ran through his mind, “Her time …” He ran his hand up the outside of her arm, and combed his fingers through her raven hair, and as he lashes looked down, he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the forehead. He let his kiss linger, his arms holding and caressing before pulling his lips away. “No, thank you My Lady, it is a treat to share this place, with the one women who is even more lovely than the setting.”

with a gentle prod, Mist began to walk slowly along the edge of the surf. They didn‘t speak, simply enjoyed. “If you‘re chilly I could build a fire, I brought a blanket for our picnic. Would you like to just slowly ride along the shore, or would you like to dismount, and take a walk with me?”

He didn’t really care what they did, just that he could do it with her, he would wait until they set out their lunch before asking any questions about her past….

 

[DarkEmpress]

The moment between them seemed to last an eternity before Arthur gently ran his fingers up along her arm and then ran them through her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Guinevere closed her eyes, soaking up the feeling of having his arms around her in this sweet and gentle embrace.

“…it is a treat to share this place, with the one woman who is even more lovely than the setting.” His words leaving a soft dusting of blush on her cheeks.

She looked up at him, something soft and warm kindling in her eyes. He was so enigmatic and yet… so tender. A gentle smile touched her lips as she turned back, letting the picture-perfect view in front of them drench her soul. Mist started moving again, and Guin wished this moment could last forever, crossing her hands across herself and placing a hand on either of his forearms, relishing the feeling of having them around her.

“If you‘re chilly I could build a fire, I brought a blanket for our picnic. Would you like to just slowly ride along the shore, or would you like to dismount, and take a walk with me?”

The thought of sitting next to a crackling fire in this beautiful setting with him next to her, sounded like heaven on earth. “Could we take a moment and enjoy this beautiful artwork of a day next a fire?” she asked.

“But first…” she said, as she slid off Mist. Once Guin was standing on the beach, she took her shoes off and holding them in her hand she took the few steps to the shoreline and let her feet sink away in the salty sand, the bubbling seawater playing around the hem of her dress. She lifted her dress and tucked it into her hemline before she closed her eyes, letting the sound of the ocean crashing on the shoreline wash over her. She tilted her head to the side, her raven hair spiralling down her shoulder as the wind tugged and played with it in the breeze.

She needed this so badly. The open vastness of it, the sheer beauty of it… making everything feel small… letting the tightness in her chest ease up a little. The magnificent blue sky was rolling into the distance, the tapestry of sunshine shimmering on the water, a clear canvas where she could let her thoughts reign free.

“I needed this,” she said to Arthur, “I can’t think of a better way to spend the day than with you and this untouched splendour.” Her eyes found his and she gave him a warm smile, the ocean reflected in the deep and beautiful blue depths of his eyes, the breeze playing with his dark hair, turning it into a glorious mess. With a soft touch, she lifted a wayward strand from across his face and smoothed it to the side, grinning at him.

Moments later Guin was helping Arthur throw the blanket out across the sugary white sea sand before sinking down on top of it. She was watching, surreptitiously, as Arthur skillfully built a fire, the breeze wistfully playing in the flames, the heat rising from it adding another shimmer across the sea. Without him watching her, Guin’s eyes had free reign to wander across his beautiful male form, his sun-kissed skin shimmering in the sunlight, his strong and lithe body bent over his current masterpiece, concentration etched on his features. He truly was beautiful, as her gaze gently caressed every part of him.

“A girl could get used to this,” she teased, giving Arthur a devastating smile.

 

[Homerun2611]

It was a fine balance and Arthur tried his best to venture accordingly. When he looked at her, looked into her eyes, he was smitten. He had never met a woman like Guinevere, he was sure of that, even though in reality he knew so little about her, no more than she did him. As he had ridden, holding her in his arms, she felt so fragile, he knew she had been tortured, but not exactly what she had endured.

The fact that someone, anyone, let alone men supposedly of God, could do that to a woman, he could not comprehend. Yet, he also had shadows in his past, things that made him wake in a cold sweat, mistakes he had made in trusting, and perhaps he was in no position to judge. But here, stopping, having a moment, the first of several they would likely have that day, he was torn, wanting to nurture and care, yet wanting, wanting as a man, a man who had been far too long absent a woman, a man who had been determined to find the right one.

“Could we take a moment and enjoy this beautiful artwork of a day next a fire?” she asked. He had felt her hands on his arms, and he wrapped them a bit tighter. “Yes we can, and if that is what the lady wants, then that is what this knight will deliver.” They spent a good moment still on Mist, the waves were gently lapping the shore, not a white cap to be seen anywhere, only the sea foam as it ran up, only to retreat back on the white sand beach.

Arthur had gently lifted Guinevere from where she sat, and in a showing of strength leaned over and set her down in the sand like a butterfly with sore feet. Quickly dismounting, he didn’t bother tying up Mist, he didn’t have to, the horse would stay protectively watching over, on alert for anything that might be of danger, soothing his hooves in the cool surf.

After setting down the blanket, guiding her over, Arthur went about finding wood for the fire. “I will need a few minutes…” It had been three days without rain on the isles, a near miracle, so drift wood, having baked in the sun for a few days was surprisingly plentiful. With an armful of wood, kindling light dried out brush, he came back and went about the work.

Setting stones in a two foot circle, arrangng to small longs in the center and then building a teepee of logs surrounding, he inserted the brush into the gaps, and then taking a flint and steel from his pocket, it took only two strikes and the spark hit, a little tender care, a few subtle puffs of breath to fan the flames, and he looked down smiling, success! He looked over his shoulder, ”We have fire.”.

The fire was mesmerizing, but nothing compared to how the flames reflected in her eyes. “A girl could get used to this,” she teased, giving Arthur a devastating smile.

Whisking his hands to clean them he went and sat down beside her, “Would you mind my lady, sitting between my legs and resting back against me. We can enjoy our lunch, there is chicken and strawberries, cheese and wine, I hope you like it?”

They pulled the food out and he took a strawberry looked at it, it was beautiful and ripe, and he snaked his arm around to bring the tasty treat to her lips. ”Be careful, it is very ripe, I would hate to stain that dress…” He grabbed some cheese to feed himself, but he wanted to use this day to finally learn a bit about each other. They were looking out at the sea, a small feast to enjoy, the entire day theirs.

The first several minutes were just feeding each others enjoying the peace and setting, it was on the second glass of wine that Arthur pulled her hair to the side and craned his neck so he could could look into those magical eyes, their faces, their lips, so close they could almost kiss, ”So … tell me … may I call you Guin, like I hear Lady Sarah do … ? Would you tell me of your life, before you were imprisoned?”

 

[DarkEmpress]

Lady Guinevere
As Guin settled, sitting against Arthur, she felt a tingle go down her spine at being in such close proximity to him. She laid back against him, her head on his shoulder as she enjoyed the crackling fire, the gorgeous view and his company.

Arthur brought a strawberry to her lips, “Be careful, it is very ripe, I would hate to stain that dress…” he said, and as Guin took it from his fingers with her lips, a little laugh escaped her lips. It was so deliciously decadent. She felt so relaxed… so cherished… perhaps even…

While Guin was taking a sip of her second glass of wine, Arthur moved her hair to the side, turning her slightly in his arms so he could look at her, and for a moment the earth stood still. Guin was staring into his beautiful eyes, getting lost in their depths.

”So … tell me … may I call you Guin, like I hear Lady Sarah do … ?

“Of course, you may,” she said, a little smile touching her lips, her eyes still staring deep into his depths. There were so many layers to Arthur. Although they were enjoying each other’s company, she always had the sense that he was not really letting her see him. He was guarded, and perhaps he had good reason to be.

"Would you tell me of your life, before you were imprisoned?”

His question caught her off guard, and Guin’s eyes dropped to his shirt for a moment, before she looked back up again. “My Mother went to Valhalla when I was a little girl,” she said, “so all my memories were always of my father and I. He tackled everything in life with this fierceness in him. He lead fiercely, loved fiercely and cared fiercely,” she said, a little lingering smile on her lips, memories dancing in her eyes.

Her eyes focused on Arthur again. “He would have liked you,” she said. “You remind me so much of him,” she said as a compliment, reaching up and smoothing another wayward strand of hair from his cheek. Guin’s eyes dropped to his lips… they were so close to each other, his arms wrapped around her, his body heat against her.

“I…” she said, and in an uncharacteristic move of impulsiveness, Guin softly pressed her lips to his…

Lady Sarah
Sarah was bustling around Camelot, taking care of Guin’s room, making sure everything was perfect upon her return. A soft smile was dancing on her lips as she hummed a lilting song, hoping sincerely that something unbecoming would happen between her lady and Arthur. They both deserved a little happiness.

She spotted Gawain standing in the courtyard. “Well, don’t just be standing there, you oaf of a man,” she said teasingly. “Help a lady and offer to carry her basket for her,” she chastised, handing the basket to Gawain… not really giving him much of a choice in the matter. He was very tall with dark hair, and he almost looked comical next to Sarah who was quite short.

He also looked absolutely ridiculous, carrying a basket filled with flowers. “Getting in touch with your softer side, Gawain?” jeers came from the men practicing in the courtyard. This was serious business, and there he was, doing the bidding of the smallest wee las in the whole castle.

He did, however, give them a satisfied look, as his eyes went back and caressed Sarah’s delectable bottom. Gawain would not be surprised if his entire regiment was carrying baskets of flowers around for every maiden in the castle by nightfall.

 

[Homerun2611]

Arthur

Arthur had not been fortunate in love, he had been seduced by a woman of magic when only a boy himeself, constrained and some could say abused, except she was so talented, in her skills. Merlin had helped him escape, but not until he had fathered a child, a boy who he would only meet later in life, Mordred. His other encounters had also been more of lust and urgency than any feelings of more. Over the last three years he had been celibate, so now, at 24, he was perhaps in the position for the first time in his life to entertain a meaningful relationship, fall in love.

He was a much more patient, mature and tempered man that held Lady Guinevere in his arms, but never, even in the deepest throes of prior passions, had anything ever felt like her. He’d asked about her past, and was fascinated as he heard it in her words. Sipping their second glass of wine, they were relaxed and in tune with the beauty of nature playing out all around them.

“My Mother went to Valhalla when I was a little girl,” she said, “so all my memories were always of my father and I. He tackled everything in life with this fierceness in him. He lead fiercely, loved fiercely and cared fiercely,” Arthur was smiling, a bit more with each word, perhaps he might have a daughter some day that might speak of him so. Perhaps a daughter was beautiful as the lady. He nodded, not wanting to interrupt, but they were gazing deep into each others eyes, and that communicated more than any words could.

He raised his hand and brushed her cheek comfortingly with the back of his fingers, encouraging her to continue. “He would have liked you,” she said. “You remind me so much of him,” Arthur bit his lip. “I can think of no higher compliment, I can only hope to be loved as dearly one day.”

They were just staring and he could feel the pull, he wanted with all his being. “I…” she said, and in an uncharacteristic move of impulsiveness, Guin softly pressed her lips to his… Arthur was leaning as soon as she began and met her, her lips soft but tentative, were met with his hand firmly gripping her waist and his kiss, while also tender, and explorative, filled with desires that had been repressed for weeks. Closing his eyes, one kiss, would not be enough, and he lightly cocked his head and pressed in for a second, lips lightly parted, his heart beating rapidly.

When they broke, he did not pull back only enough to open and look into her eyes. “Thank you My Lady, I didn’t dare until you might be ready.” But there was more, “Ever since I rescued you, held you, and every day since you arrived, I have wondered when some Lord or Noble might come to court, and want to claim the woman who was capturing my heart, and every day I pledged that I would not stand in your way. If you had a love, I must let you go… that is the only honorable path, you are free in my court, you always have been.“ He looked down, “And if you do… I would… but if no such fear is real… then I will no longer worry, and I will no longer hold back?”

Sir Gawain

Perhaps not the most physically talented of Arthur’s knights, that was the brash and arrogant Lancelot, Gawain and Kay were Arthur‘s two most loyal and trusted friends and generals. The two were the fiercest of rivals and the closest of friends. Gawain was tall, of Spanish heritage, dark brown hair and eyes, A short but full beard, and tall, nearly six foot four, and elegant in his carriage. Kay was the polar opposite, four inches shorter, fair haired and skinned with soft but gorgeous blue eyes, like the waters which skated over the white sands of the Mediteranean. Where Gawain was powerful, Kay was agile and swift. Both were strikingly handsome men, and both in her short time in court had been smitten by the Lady Sarah.

As he looked up, and heard her call, “Well, don’t just be standing there, you oaf of a man,” she said teasingly. “Help a lady and offer to carry her basket for her,” she chastised, handing the basket to Gawain… not really giving him much of a choice in the matter. He felt the enthusiasm of a young puppy, happy that he had no tail that would wag and belie his enthusiasm.

He heard the catcalls, the loudes of which was Kay, questioning his manhood. He walked proudly, let them be jealous. Lady Sarah had been quite beguiling to date, to both he and Kay, at times offering encouragement, even flirting, to another time seemingly ignoring. He hoped to find a spot to be in private, for he had a favor to ask, an attempt to perhaps gain her favor over Kay.

”On the morrow my Lady, ArThur has set a tournament amongst the nights, sword and horse contests, and… I was wondering if I might wear your kerchief in the tournament?”