Before the actions of the last few days, I would have said that freedom was the only thing that I could not live without if it were taken away again. After all, Marius and his priests took my freedom from me for a long period of time.
But I survived that. I survived that imprisonment no matter what they did to me.
I survived a blood war with the Saxons when so many others did not.
I have been through things that once might have caused me to think about life and death in a far different manner than I do now.
My priorities have changed in that time, though.
The one thing that I could not live with out?
Love.
If there was no love, then life would not be worth living. It would be cold and gray and emotionless.
I'm not talking about just any type of love, either.
While I do love my father and the people of the forest, that is not the type of love that seems to have the power to hold back death---though my father managed to do it more than a few times.
I'm talking about the fiery, no holds-barred, sometimes violent love that is the passion that you share with one or more people. I'm talking about the explosive type of love as I share with Lancelot and Arthur. The passionate love that while it may lie quietly, it never goes totally out and it can explode quite suddenly.
It's the kind of love that can pull one back from death---even when it seems like nothing can save you.
After the events of Badon Hill, it was Lancelot that was hovering near death. Arthur and I were not willing to let death claim him and we sat by his side, day and night. Niether one of us slept much until we knew without a doubt that he wasn't going to die.
Then, a few days ago, Lancelot was ambushed by a group of Saxons that had come too close. I was closest and then Galahad came to our aid. We defeated them, but not without our share of injuries---Lancelot and I sharing what were called life-threatening ones. I had come way to close to bleeding out through my throat, and Lancelot's chest would had re-opened again.
Lancelot and I held on to each other, fighting to stay alive until Merlin could get to us. Arthur showed up first, and he was able to lend us his own love and strength. Afterwards, while the two of us were unconscious, it was Arthur who stayed by our sides and refused to give up. His love would not let us die.
Then, after the interrogation and execution of the Saxon leader, the stitches at my throat had tornand the wound had torn as well. The healers told Lancelot that I was going to die, but my Sarmatian was not about to let that happen. He bullied the healers, then held my hand and kept me connected to this life until Merlin could get to me.
Love is a pretty powerful thing---at least love like the three of us share, and I would not want to live in this world without their love.
Word Count: 545
Muse: Guinevere
Fandom: "King Arthur"; Misc Movies and Mythologies
But I survived that. I survived that imprisonment no matter what they did to me.
I survived a blood war with the Saxons when so many others did not.
I have been through things that once might have caused me to think about life and death in a far different manner than I do now.
My priorities have changed in that time, though.
The one thing that I could not live with out?
Love.
If there was no love, then life would not be worth living. It would be cold and gray and emotionless.
I'm not talking about just any type of love, either.
While I do love my father and the people of the forest, that is not the type of love that seems to have the power to hold back death---though my father managed to do it more than a few times.
I'm talking about the fiery, no holds-barred, sometimes violent love that is the passion that you share with one or more people. I'm talking about the explosive type of love as I share with Lancelot and Arthur. The passionate love that while it may lie quietly, it never goes totally out and it can explode quite suddenly.
It's the kind of love that can pull one back from death---even when it seems like nothing can save you.
After the events of Badon Hill, it was Lancelot that was hovering near death. Arthur and I were not willing to let death claim him and we sat by his side, day and night. Niether one of us slept much until we knew without a doubt that he wasn't going to die.
Then, a few days ago, Lancelot was ambushed by a group of Saxons that had come too close. I was closest and then Galahad came to our aid. We defeated them, but not without our share of injuries---Lancelot and I sharing what were called life-threatening ones. I had come way to close to bleeding out through my throat, and Lancelot's chest would had re-opened again.
Lancelot and I held on to each other, fighting to stay alive until Merlin could get to us. Arthur showed up first, and he was able to lend us his own love and strength. Afterwards, while the two of us were unconscious, it was Arthur who stayed by our sides and refused to give up. His love would not let us die.
Then, after the interrogation and execution of the Saxon leader, the stitches at my throat had tornand the wound had torn as well. The healers told Lancelot that I was going to die, but my Sarmatian was not about to let that happen. He bullied the healers, then held my hand and kept me connected to this life until Merlin could get to me.
Love is a pretty powerful thing---at least love like the three of us share, and I would not want to live in this world without their love.
Word Count: 545
Muse: Guinevere
Fandom: "King Arthur"; Misc Movies and Mythologies
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