loved_by_two: (Guine Living Life : Dea_Liberty)
Guinevere sat on the highest of the walls and looked down out over the forest. Her hip was still on fire, but she hadn't wanted to go to one of the healers and be faced with them summoning Arthur or Lancelot. She wasn't prepared to deal with the anger again from the two of them. The look from Lancelot and the things Arthur had said to her had made the wound in her heart even deeper. Instead of responding to the hurtful and unkind things Arthur had said to her, she had let him walk away, not letting the tears fall until all of the knights were gone. She had no right to call him back, no right to argue his words. Maybe they were both right about her.

She needed someone to talk to, to confide in, but she couldn't seek out Arthur, obviously. She had already caused him enough pain. From the way she saw things in the meeting, Lancelot wouldn't want to see her right now, and much as she loved him like a brother, his first loyalty would always be to Arthur and the knights, and she could respect that. In fact, she wouldn't have it any other way. She didn't think Galahad would even want to talk to her...and she definitely couldn't go to Vanora. She thought briefly of seeking out Evelyn, but she was very much focused on trying to find a way to get her and her husband back to their own time. She wasn't sure she could send for her father and confide in him as his disappointment in failing in her duty as first woman of their people would be the final blade in her heart.

She was very much alone right now. She didn't think she had felt so alone since the time she had to decide if her love for Lancelot or her duty to the kingdom meant more to her.

That time...that time she had chosen love...and look at the tension it had caused between her and those she loved. Again, she had thought that she was doing something to help and it had almost gotten Lancelot killed.

Guinevere shook her head and leaned on the wall. The night was chilly, but she didn't want to return to her rooms and get changed into something besides the bloody battle leathers she was wearing. Arthur would be in his study and she just couldn't deal with more hurt from him right now---especially since she knew she deserved his anger. She would just storm in and confront him and...make things worse. There were reasons she was a warrior and not a healer. She would only end up hurting him more and she couldn't bear to do that, not to Arthur. The last thing she had ever wanted to was hurt Arthur...or make him feel that she didn't want to be with him. She loved him so much and to know that she had made him feel alone...that made her ill.

She hung her head and tried to make sense out of everything that had happened in the last few weeks.

She had never felt more out of place here than she did now. )
loved_by_two: (Guinevere Sword : gabrielrose)
After the meeting with Arthur and the other knights, Guinevere had made a break for their rooms as fast as she could. Once there, she changed into her leathers and stalked down to the stables. The meeting had been Hell on earth and painful all at the same time. Arthur was riding out to deal with rebellion and wanted them to accompany him. When she had asked if he wanted her by his side or guarding the fortress...his answer (or non-answer) had been like an arrow deep in her chest.

She saddled Defiance and she and her usual escort thundered from the fort. It was no longer a squire that accompanied her on these outings. Lancelot had pressed one of the knights into guard duty service for Guinevere.

After about fifteen minutes of heavy riding, she slowed her mare to a stop and patted her neck soothingly.

She swung off Defiance and waited as the knight did as well.

"Attack me," she said simply.

The knight's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Guinevere gritted her teeth. "I know you heard exactly what I said. Attack me."

The knight cocked his head at Guinevere. "My Queen?"

Guinevere sighed. "Look, I need combat right now and you're the only one around. However, if you are too afraid of the beating I'm about to give you, I'm sure I can find a Celtic warrior somewhere around here who'd love to fight me."

The knight's eyes narrowed when Guinevere said she could beat him easily. "How do I know that when I win Arthur and Lancelot won't kill me for harming you?"

Guinevere laughed. "You won't win, but I promise that the last thing you need to worry about is revenge from Arthur and Lancelot." With everything that is going on right now, they wouldn't notice or think to do anything about it.

The knight tossed his helmet aside since he didn't want to run the risk of impaling his queen with the spike that stood out from the top of it and then he drew his sword. He leapt at Guinevere, thinking that he could slap her with the sword and end the fight before it even started. Guinevere stepped to the side, tripping the knight with the end of her bow and leaning on it as she watched him go face first into the ground.

"You're going to have to do better than that," she taunted.

For the next ten minutes, Guinevere and the knight engaged in hand to hand combat. She was turning out to be a better fighter than he had given her credit for.

"Aren't you suppose to be our Queen or something?" the knight demanded.

"I AM your Queen," she hissed as she danced out of his way.

"You're not a queen," the knight taunted. "You're just the woman that is warming Arthur's bed currently."

The knight wasn't trying to be cruel or hurtful. He was just trying to goad Guinevere into slipping up. He could tell that there was something beyond tension driving her, and if she was half the warrior he had heard she was, losing her temper in a fight would help her immensely.

Guinevere froze for a long moment as her mind processed what the knight had just said.

"You're not a queen. You're just the woman that is warming Arthur's bed currently."

The knight was already swinging his sword when he saw that Guinevere wasn't making an attempt to dodge it. In his mind, he lived his death several times before he suddenly found himself on the ground with a furious Guinevere on his chest, holding a blade to his throat.

"The relationship that Arthur and I have is none of your business, stripling," she warned him. "If you ever say something like that again I will carve your heart out and feed it to Tristan's hawk!"

Guinevere flipped herself off of him and he swung his sword, connecting with her hip and opening a gash. His eyes widened as he realized what he had just done.

He watched Guinevere's eyes fill with pain and then with battle lust.

I am a dead man.

Guinevere staggered back, pressing a hand to her side as she felt the sticky warmth of blood beneath her fingers. Pain flared to life as she looked down at her bloody hand and then at the knight.

"Nice shot," she said softly.

The knight dropped his sword and moved to wrap an arm around his queen to keep her from going down to the ground.

"My Queen...God, Guinevere!" he cursed as he took in the damage he had done to Arthur's wife. "Arthur is going to kill me," he hissed as he set her down on the grass and went to his pack for something to dress the wound.

Guinevere shook her head. "Arthur isn't going to kill you because Arthur isn't going to know," she said softly. "He doesn't need to know that I got hurt sparring with you. It would serve no purpose."

The knight shook his head stubbornly. "I am not lying to my King."

"I am not asking you to lie to anyone, young knight. If you are asked, then yes, tell the truth. But there is no reason to just go around telling Arthur or the Knights what was done."

The knight frowned, but didn't argue with her. He bandaged Guinevere enough to get her back to the castle and then helped her onto Defiance. After he saw her back to the tavern, he set out to find someone he could inform that Guinevere was hurt. Queen or not, she had a sword slice in her side and those that cared about her needed to know.
loved_by_two: (Thousand Years To Mend : Eomir_Icons)
After Arthur left, Guinevere had stood there in the middle of their rooms like she had been rooted to the spot. She might as well have been. Arthur's distrust on top of everything else had served to break the pieces of her that were still being held together. She couldn't believe that he didn't trust her. Hadn't she proved over and over again how much he and Lancelot meant to her?

Arthur thought she had betrayed them to Gerard.

It wasn't just that he didn't trust her that left her feeling so broken. It was the fact that he believed she betrayed Lancelot to Gerard that sliced deeper than any sword ever could. She walked to the window and watched him gallop away from the wall and the garrison.

He didn't trust her.

After everything...he didn't trust that she was loyal and faithful to he and to Lancelot.

She hadn't ever wanted anyone else since she had first seen them when she was a young girl.

Guinevere covered her face with her hands. All she could hear in her head was Arthur asking her what he was supposed to believe. Those words hurt more than any battle wound ever had. For the first time in her life, Guinevere wished for death. It had to be easier than the pain she was now experiencing.

She struggled to take a breath, to get it past that hand that was squeezing her heart, and tried to think. However, thinking got her nowhere. All she could think about were Arthur's damning words. She lowered her hands and went carefully to where her clothes were kept.

Guinevere had never been one to sit out a battle if she could help it, and trust her or not, love her or not, Arthur was riding right into a trap.

Whether he wanted her to stay or not, Briton needed its king to stay alive. No matter what he thought right now, Guinevere had a duty to protect her King.

She slid into a pair of leathers and drew her hair up into a braid. She tied it securely with small leather strips and started outfitting herself with her usual axes and blades. She reached for her Sarmatian bow and slung it and a quiver full of arrows across her back. She also grabbed Lancelot's sword. She went to her hidden drawer and drew out a piece of metal. It felt heavy in her hand and part of it was blackened from the blood that had once drowned it. She slipped that into one of her boots. It would come in handy...very handy.

Guinevere drew a cloak over her and hurried down to the stables. She drew her horse out and fastened everything up on his back. She had gotten up on the back of her horse when a squire came running towards her.

"My Lady, the King said you were not to leave the safety of the fortress."

Guinevere looked at him, then reached out and kicked him in the head and away from her and the horse. Before anyone else could stop her, Guinevere galloped through the gates and towards the dense forest. Once she made the forest, no one would be able to find her.

Arthur was in trouble and he was alone. He needed warriors to match what Gerard had. She knew where to get those warriors.

When Merlin saw his daughter appear in the middle of their village, he knew something was wrong.

"I need your help," she said softly. "Gerard...he has Lancelot and is about to have Arthur as well."

Merlin looked into her eyes. "Do you know what you're asking for?"

Guinevere looked at him in confusion. "I'm asking for warriors to come with me to save our king."

Merlin took her hand and squeezed it gently. "No. You also need to fight like Gerard fights, daughter."

"I don't want to do that...those magics are too..."

"Dark?" Merlin finished. "Yes, they are dark, but you are are also light. You can beat them."

Guinevere stared at her father. "You have that much confidence in me."

Merlin nodded. "Yes, and yes, we will come."

Guinevere nodded. "We'll have to be even more silent than usual. I want to surprise them all."

" not invite your death so easily," Merlin warned her as he studied her eyes. He could see that they were filled with a deep pain.

"I have to do this, Father. It's the only way they'll be safe."

Merlin looked at her in sadness. "I have no desire to lose my daughter."

"Better a daughter than a king," she said softly.

It was then that Merlin knew something had happened between Arthur and Guinevere. He could see the pain in her eyes, hear it in her voice.

"What has happened?" he asked.

Guinevere shook her head, not wanting to talk about it. But she couldn't lie to her father, either. "He doesn't trust me."

Merlin raised a brow. "He doesn't?"

"No," she said, tears threatening to flow again. It hurt to breathe. "He thinks I betrayed them to Gerard." She looked at her father. "That doesn't matter right now. What matters is that we get to them before Gerard kills them."
loved_by_two: (Thousand Years To Mend : Eomir_Icons)
Guinevere sat in her room in the middle of the bed that was still mussed from her and...

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. She couldn't believe he was gone. Couldn't believe that she would never see those laughing black eyes undressing her. She tried to breathe, but it came out as a sob and she couldn't seem to control the sobs.

All she had ever wanted, ever, was for the ones she loved to be safe. Now, one was gone, and the other one...

She couldn't get herself to leave the room. It was the last place she had been with Lancelot.

" Tomorrow will come and then everyone will wonder why they made such a fuss."

Guinevere got up from the bed and wandered to the window. She looked out into the grounds and the field and felt nothing but the emptiness inside her.

." But I won't let them get close enough to scratch me."
"See that you don't."

She shook her head, still hearing everything that was said, still feeling him hold her.

He couldn't be gone. He just couldn't.

Guinevere turned to stare at the sword that was on her bed. It was glaring proof that her beloved was gone. He never would have released his grip on those swords unless he was dead. They went everywhere with him.

"Lancelot..." she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. In the room belonging to her and Arthur, she could grieve. Behind the locked door, she didn't have to be the Queen of Briton. She didn't have to be the Lady that everyone bowed to and expected certain things of. Behind the doors of this room, she was merely Guinevere.

And Guinevere had been torn apart inside.

She slid down the wall next to the window and brought her knees up as she sobbed into her hands. She had tried so hard to stay pulled together, but the ache in her chest just would not go away. Lancelot was dead and she and Arthur were going to be expected to carry on. They were going to be expected to do their duty and not let their emotions get to them.

She didn't want it. She didn't want this responsibility. She wanted to curl up and give into the pain that was threatening to overwhelm her right now. Lancelot was dead and she wanted to join him.

But that would leave Arthur all alone and she wouldn't do that. She would not do that to her love.

Guinevere buried her face in her knees as the tears kept flowing. She could still hear his voice.

" You're a fighter and you would have Arthur. Nothing will happen but if anything were to happen, you would survive and I would want you to. I would want you to keep on living."

Guinevere got to her feet and went to grab Lancelot's sword. She swung it around a few times before dropping to her knees. A loud scream was drawn from her throat again and again. Guinevere sat there on her knees for what seemed like hours...she held on to the sword like it was a lifeline and her eyes stared down at the floor as she started to sob again. It seemed like she had done nothing but cry since Arthur had brought her back to the garrison. Someone, she didn't know who, had helped her to her and Arthur's rooms and sat her on their bed...the bed that right now seemed much too empty. She screamed out her rage and grief until her throat ached and her voice was hoarse. The screams echoed throughout most of the fortress and chilled the blood of a great many of the people.

She held the sword to her as she rocked back and forth on her knees.

Lancelot was dead.

Arthur was somewhere.

And Guinevere was alone...her heart and spirit broken.
loved_by_two: (Triangle of Love : shesawit__)
Tears trickled silently down Guinevere's cheeks to disappear into the pillow as she listened to her two men talk. She had been conscious for only a short time, but time spent in that hellhole of Marcus' and the Priests had taught her how to regulate her breathing so anyone around her thought that she was still unconscious.

It had come in very handy during that time.

Now, now she did it because Arthur and Lancelot needed this time to talk about what was between them and if they knew she was awake, they would use that as an excuse to stop talking and hover over her.

There were things that Lancelot and Arthur needed to say to each other. Things that they talked around. They both were full of hurt and worry about where each stood in this unique relationship the three of them shared. She listened to them talk in soft voices, voices that in some instances held a wistfulness and she didn't understand how the two of them couldn't see how important they were to each other.

She had often thought over the past few weeks that maybe the next time Arthur came home, she should go and stay with her people for a few days, give Arthur and Lancelot some time to themselves. Maybe if she wasn't around, they would drift closer towards each other and realize how they loved and needed each other.

Although the thought of leaving them for even a few days tore at her, she couldn't see any other way to remove herself from the two of them using her as a shield. She knew that they did this so they didn't have to try to confess their feelings to each other. She understood that some men had problems talking about what was in their hearts, but she had never encountered it first hand.

Arthur and Lancelot were indeed two of the most stubborn men she knew, and they acted like it on more than one occassion, too. It was like they were holding a contest on which one of them could be the most stubborn and stoic when it came to affairs of their hearts.

Stoic was a wondrous trait on the battlefield, but it had no place in affairs of the heart. That's where you got into trouble.

She heard them ask each other questions and it did her heart good to hear them bantering back and forth at each other.

She swallowed slightly, pulling at her healing throat wound and bit back a gasp of pain. She froze, worried that if they had heard her...but no, they kept talking. This was good.

She had been waiting for the two of them to finally realize how important they were to each other...she just hadn't expected that it would take another near-death experience for the two of them to open their eyes.

"...It seems like I've not been as clear about it as I should have been, so I'll make it clear now: you are my strength, Lancelot - you and Guinevere. It seems like I'm not the only one that needs reminding of these kinds of things..."

Guinevere smiled faintly at Arthur's words. Truer words were never spoken. No matter how strong one may be when it comes to war and and emotions seemed to be a harder thing to get a grasp of. It didn't always make sense, but that's how it was.

It was Lancelot that she heard next. "Do you think she's alright? She's been asleep a long time..." Then Arthur said something which she didn't catch all of, mainly because waking up reminded her of the pain from the battle. "...she should, hopefully, wake up soon..."

It was time to let wake up and alleviate their worry.

She closed her eyes and let out a breath that did pull at her throat and she gasped out loud this time.


loved_by_two: (Default)
Guinevere Castus-DuLac

April 2017

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