(no subject)
Picture: unicorn
Words: 216
She works over the embroidery time and time again, picking out the thick thread, weaving it in again, but it's never right, never precisely what she hopes for; nothing ever is. Embroidery she isn't good at, but it gives her something to do with her hands and that passes the time, because Mordred is away.
Every night she holds herself tightly in her own arms, and imagines him home. The child in her is getting bigger. The promise of it enchants her, the very idea, something given her by him almost by accident, and it will be so beautiful. So beautiful. But if he were with her--
Does every lady wish so? she thinks, picking at the thread again. Does every lady think every skirmish is just a bitter excuse to take her knight from her? Does every lady secretly blame the king for thinking up battles to leave her alone?
Just as like not. But things will be better when Mordred is home again, to worry, to sulk, to watch her dress in the morning, half as if he's afraid of her and half with wonder, and she knows in her heart he loves her.
And someday the embroidery will truly look like a unicorn. And someday their child will be born. Gwenhwyfach accidentally smiles.
Words: 216
She works over the embroidery time and time again, picking out the thick thread, weaving it in again, but it's never right, never precisely what she hopes for; nothing ever is. Embroidery she isn't good at, but it gives her something to do with her hands and that passes the time, because Mordred is away.
Every night she holds herself tightly in her own arms, and imagines him home. The child in her is getting bigger. The promise of it enchants her, the very idea, something given her by him almost by accident, and it will be so beautiful. So beautiful. But if he were with her--
Does every lady wish so? she thinks, picking at the thread again. Does every lady think every skirmish is just a bitter excuse to take her knight from her? Does every lady secretly blame the king for thinking up battles to leave her alone?
Just as like not. But things will be better when Mordred is home again, to worry, to sulk, to watch her dress in the morning, half as if he's afraid of her and half with wonder, and she knows in her heart he loves her.
And someday the embroidery will truly look like a unicorn. And someday their child will be born. Gwenhwyfach accidentally smiles.