RosiePosie
Virgin
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2007
- Posts
- 13
Okey, Im new and thank you to Cobra2004 for allowing me the chance to show off my writing skills. This will be a closed thread unless or until there comes a need for other participants. Enjoy, comments are welcome.
Guinevere sat in the carriage, wondering. The trip had been long and arduous and she knew that the arranged meeting with her soon to be husband could not be avoided. This was a prearranged marriage. She had no choice in the matter. She was well aware of whom he was and what he had done as a person and now as King of Camelot.
Her long hair was tied intricately with many pearls and ribbons. Held fast to her bussom, the tortise shell pin secured the lace which was to delicate to sew. Like most girls her age, she swelled over the bodice of her many gowns only to be met with leers and disapproval from other men and women.
The nuns at the rectory bade her goodbye and sent her to her destination with a prayer and a kiss. In her mind she drew pictures of Arthur, standing in his regality at the throne of Camelot, she bedekked in the latest fashions, also there accompanying him.
When they came to a stop, she was jolted from one of the many daydreams she so often longed to fill. She looked out and with a gasp saw she was there. In the castle keep, in his domain, in Camelot.
THe hand opened the door extended to take her own. The voice, deep and hypnotising. When he spoke to her, Guinevere knew that Arthur was truley, her destiny.
Guinevere sat in the carriage, wondering. The trip had been long and arduous and she knew that the arranged meeting with her soon to be husband could not be avoided. This was a prearranged marriage. She had no choice in the matter. She was well aware of whom he was and what he had done as a person and now as King of Camelot.
Her long hair was tied intricately with many pearls and ribbons. Held fast to her bussom, the tortise shell pin secured the lace which was to delicate to sew. Like most girls her age, she swelled over the bodice of her many gowns only to be met with leers and disapproval from other men and women.
The nuns at the rectory bade her goodbye and sent her to her destination with a prayer and a kiss. In her mind she drew pictures of Arthur, standing in his regality at the throne of Camelot, she bedekked in the latest fashions, also there accompanying him.
When they came to a stop, she was jolted from one of the many daydreams she so often longed to fill. She looked out and with a gasp saw she was there. In the castle keep, in his domain, in Camelot.
THe hand opened the door extended to take her own. The voice, deep and hypnotising. When he spoke to her, Guinevere knew that Arthur was truley, her destiny.