What Does The Word "Love" Mean To You? (#60)

[loved_by_two]

Guinevere stared through the tree branches at the Sarmatian Knights they were tracking...tracking, not engaging.  Merlin had been very clear in that. There were a great many of these famously tough knights, many of them not much  older than herself. However,  the fourteen year old girl's eyes were drawn to only two of the men.  Niether of the two  looked much older than herself.

Again, they were to observe and gather information, not engage. That had been Merlin's orders as the small party  had moved out.  He had repeated it several times.

That was just fine with her. That meant she could observe the two knights that had so held her fascination with little to  no interruption.

There were many knights, but those two were the two that stood apart from the others...they were the ones she  couldn't help but watch.  They weren't much older than her, but she knew their names and deeds by heart.

Artorius and Lancelot.

Artorius, or Arthur, as he was more commonly called, was the son of a Briton woman and a roman father. More  importantly, that Briton woman was someone that Merlin and his people had had love and respect for.  Arthur's war  with Guinevere's people centered on the misconception he had that Britons had caused the death of his mother.  Arthur had many qualities of both his mother and his father. Even if he fought on the side of the enemy, Merlin admired  him. Arthur was serious in everything he did and he took things like honor and promises made very personally.

Lancelot, on the other hand, was a young dark-eyed knight from Sarmatia, forced into service because of a contract  struck with the Romans years ago.

Her father had told her any, many stories about these two knights and she had taken every tale to heart. She wanted  to learn everything she could about Arthur and Lancelot. She watched every move the two men made very closely  and memorized the grace and fluidity and the way that each man held himself. She watched the two men for a very,  very long time.

These two knights...these two men...

She was determined to see and learn a lot more about each of them.

*************************************************************

She was sixteen years old when she came face to face (quite literally) with the Knights again. 

They were fighting other raiders in a Briton village when Arthur and his Knights arrived at the fight. Her attention was  drawn to Lancelot as he manuevered his horse towards one group of fighters----he was about to interfere with her  Hunt Sister winning over her advesary.  She crouched on the roof and watched the way he moved.  He done nothing  but get more graceful and more pleasing to look out in the last two years. As he got closer to her Hunt Sister's fight,  Guinevere made her decision. Merlin had told her to stay out of the fight because of the wound from her last fight, but  Lancelot must not be allowed to harm her Hunt Sister.  As he moved towards the fighters, she ran along the roof and  leapt at Lancelot.  She knocked him from his horse and the two rolled along the ground a few times.

When they came to a stop, she lay on top of him for a few moments, staring into those incredible eyes.  Hearing the  whistle from the forest, Guinevere boldly brushed her lips against his quickly, then disappeared into the mists and the  shadows of the forest.

*******************************************************

When she had seen her two Knights again (for she had considered them hers for several years now) it was under  less than shining circumstances. This time, Lancelot had broken open the cage she had been held in for several  months (or was it years?  The pain from the torture and the isolation ahd made her lose count) and Arthur had carried  her out into the fresh air.  As she felt the snow falling on her face she had looked at the knight holding her as her eyes  came in to better focus. Lancelot was crouching beside him. These two knights...these men she had watched and  observed for so many years had just become her rescuers. Fulcinia ran to her side while Arthur and Lancelot went  and gave orders for the priests who had done this to be walled back up. Arthur had then carried her to a wagon and  Fulcinia had strated taken care of her. It had been Arthur who had to re-set her fingers after they had all been  damaged by the torture.

She had spent some time healing in the wagon, speaking to both Arthur and Lancelot when they came close enough  for her to speak to them.

Then, she had killed Marcus when he tried to kill Lucan and Dagonet.

Then, she had fought with them during the Saxon attack on the stronghold behind the wall---and sat with Arthur at  Lancelot's side as he did his slow recovery from the wounds Cynric had given him. That was when she stopped denying her feelings for both men.


As her mind flew back over the memories, she knew exactly how to answer the question.





What does the word "love" mean to me?  Unpredictability.  There was no way that any of my people could have imagined that we would one day be aligned with the great Sarmatian Knights to keep our land safe and free. There was no way I could have known that I would fall in love with Lancelot or with Arthur.  Love is a very unpredictable and surprising thing.  It also something that you must protect and cherish.  It can take a long time to establish trust, but only suspicions and rumours (not proof) to tear it down again.



Word Count: 956
Muse: Guinevere
Fandom: "King Arthur" Misc. Movies and Mythologies