King Arthur Fic ~ The Tending of Arthur
Title: The Tending of Arthur
Author: Cat
Fandom: King Arthur movie verse
Characters and/or Pairings: Arthur (movie verse) and Cara (my OC) - no pairings
Rating: PG-13 for Adult Subject Matter (implied sexual situation)
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie or the man and I am only borrowing him for my own muses and not for profit. Many, many thanks to the wonderful sasha_b for the support, encouragement and beta. ♥
Summary: This is purely fantasy and inspired by an intimate scene from a film I recently watched. No plot or intrigue, just pure exploration and pleasure. It is a detailed glimpse into a few quiet moments in the life of Lucius Artorius Castus, renowned and future legendary Roman Commander.
Word count: 6,277
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Read the story
It had been a day like any other dreary wintry day in Britain; bitter icy rain falling from dark ominous clouds forcing even the hardiest of men to seek shelter. But the winter storms had not deterred the Woads from a savage attack on a local Roman village. Thus Commander Castus and his knights had ridden out to do what they could for the survivors and to flush out any remaining threats. That had been five days past now. Speculation on an uprising was being whispered around the outpost as the Centurion left in charge had not anticipated Arthur and his conscripts to be gone more than a single day - two at most.
However as the cold grey skies began to give way to the pitch of night, they came.
What were most assuredly frozen pellets of rain struck relentlessly against the panes of glass in the window at the far end of the chamber. The sound was steady, strong and nearly overpowered the crackling of the kindling in the brazier even as fat bright orange flames ferociously devoured the wood. Cara crossed the room to the windowsill and closed the roughly hewn shutters in the hope of shutting out the damp icy weather - and diminishing the sound it made. While her back was to the door, it clicked open to admit the owner of the chambers she tended. Cara turned towards the sound expecting a messenger with the day’s posts which would join the growing pile of scrolls and letters on Arthur’s desk awaiting his return. But it was no lowly soldier or page that shut the thick wooden door and dropped a wet leather saddlebag with a thud on the cool stony floor.
Arthur had returned to Camboglanna.
Cara, not able to conceal her relief at the sight of him, hurried towards her master to give aid in the removal of his armour. Arthur’s hair was thoroughly soaked from the wet weather; his long crimson cloak more sodden than his hair and exposed skin. Weary green eyes met gentle blue as Cara briefly looked up at Arthur’s craggy unshaven face. Neither spoke a single word in greeting while Cara’s tiny deft fingers began to make quick work of the clasps at Arthur’s armour. First, she removed both vambraces and then the water-soaked red cloak that surely weighed more than a small child in its current state. Arthur made a small noise of respite once the burden was removed from his tired shoulders. The metal cuirass would come next, and then his chainmail shirt and shin guards, until all that remained were his leathers and rough spun tunic. All were soaked through from days on horseback out in the harsh wet weather. Cara noted the bandage on Arthur’s right hand and the scratch marks on his cheek and throat. What other injuries, possibly more serious, might still remain hidden from her scrutiny?
The chamber had been prepared for his coming, no matter when that would have been. Cara took pride in tending Arthur’s private chambers - the fire fully stoked, buckets of fresh clean water for bathing, and bed prepared for rest each and every night whether the Commander was in residence or out on patrols.
“Are you hungry, my lord? I’ll fetch a meal once I’ve you settled,” Cara said at last, spoken softly but with a bit of effort as she labored to pull the shirt of heavy mail up and over Arthur’s wet curly head. Thank the gods he had the presence of mind to bend a little forward to make the task a bit easier - tall as he was. She placed the shirt on the dressing table alongside the rest of the Commander’s armour - all would need a firm polishing to prevent rust, not to mention the cleaning it would take to remove what Cara prayed was only muck from the road.
“A bottle of un-watered wine will suffice for tonight, Cara, thank you,” Arthur answered in a voice that sounded as rough and weary as he appeared. Yet there was still a sparkle of strength in those deep green eyes; he also added a small smile when Cara turned back towards him to continue to remove his thoroughly soaked clothing.
She dared not ask what he found at the village or why he’d had been so long away. The business of soldiering was something Cara wanted little or nothing to do with. Her only concern was for Arthur’s personal wellbeing. Besides, she’d hear the reports from others on the morrow whether she wanted to or not - word spread fast in the outpost. Right now all that mattered was Arthur. The man was her savior, her benefactor and the one person left in this world besides her sister that Cara trusted…unequivocally. If she were to admit to her inner most feelings…it was more than gratefulness and admiration that she felt for this man. It was something much stronger.
Cara’s slender fingers were gentle and careful as they began to lift Arthur’s thin damp tunic. He had been wearing both chainmail and metal breastplate, so surely she’d not discover any serious injury beneath this final layer of his clothing. But Cara still found her breath caught in her throat as more and more of his skin was exposed to her assessing gaze. Goose bumps immediately sprang up across his stomach and broad chest with the removal of the shirt. Cara hesitated a moment, blue eyes searching him and finding only old familiar scars, and then she visibly exhaled in relief before she stepped away to place the wet tunic in the laundry basket behind him. No deep gashes or knife wounds that she could see. Thank the gods. Arthur toed off his muddy boots while Cara crossed to the washing stand and retrieved a large clean towel.
“I’ll prepare a warm bath and then see to those marks,” Cara nodded to Arthur in regards to the scratches on his face and neck while she stood on the tips of her toes to wrap the dry cloth around his shoulders. No sense in trying to get the moisture out of his hair before washing the cold and grime from it in the bath. The towel wasn’t much, but it would offer some warmth until said bath was ready. The Commander gave a nod of acknowledgement as he accepted the towel from Cara. She bit back a frown at seeing the dried blood that had soaked through the makeshift bandage on his hand. She’d see to that too as soon as she had him settled in the tub - knowing better than to make a fuss over Arthur outright. He was far too humble for his own good in her opinion. But Cara had learned how to manage his needs without rousing his pride and subsequent refusal.
Cara crossed to a cabinet near the table, retrieved a bottle of wine and filled a goblet with Arthur’s favorite Falernian. A basket on the table contained cheese and a honey cake carefully wrapped up and waiting. Cara would see to it that Arthur ate the food before bed despite what he’d just said. She handed the goblet of wine to the Commander before she moved on to prepare the bath.
Arthur was not a man to insist on personal indulgence, but he had a round wooden tub kept in the far corner of his chamber - ‘out of convenience only’ he had said. No one else in the entire outpost had their own private bath though. But tonight, Cara was thankful to have everything here in this room to properly and privately tend his needs. She was one of the few that Arthur allowed exposure to any of his injuries or physical weaknesses, and he appeared to welcome her care above all others. Cara was certain it was due to the fact that he’d personally rescued her from certain death and taken her in a few years ago…but perhaps for his part, Arthur had his own reasons for allowing Cara to personally tend his chambers - and his individual needs. Lancelot had his colorful opinion and had not hesitated to fill Cara’s ears with what he thought she should do about it. Idle gossip. Arthur was nothing like Lancelot or the other men. And besides, the Commander had never given any indication of anything beyond appreciation and kindness for her efforts. She was only a common servant after all - he a highly revered Roman officer.
Cara set about filling water to be heated into two large metal pots that hung over the brazier and then left four additional buckets of water to pour into the tub. The flames of the fire would have the pots heated shortly; allowing Cara just enough time to gather more fresh towels and Arthur’s shaving kit. She tied a white linen smock over her pale blue dress to absorb the dirt, oils and water she’d surely end up wearing while washing up a road weary soldier. Thankfully she had plaited her long dark hair earlier in the day to keep it neatly out of the way while she’d scrubbed the tiles in the floor within the chamber. Once Cara was satisfied with the bath, adding the hot water from the brazier to the cold already in the tub, she smoothed down her apron and turned back to Arthur. The Commander was still dressed in his soggy mud smattered leathers and towel wrapped around his neck. He had his head tilted back while allowing the last of the wine to drain from the goblet into his throat. Cara’s stomach tightened at the sight of him standing before her….dirty, barefoot and weary as he was, Arthur could still bring a flurry of sensations within her belly no matter what state he was in. It was highly inappropriate, but she could not suppress it any more than she could hold back the coming of spring.
May the Goddess steady my hands while I tend him.
Arthur must have realized that the bath was ready; he set down the now empty goblet and padded across the floor to the side of the tub. The flames danced wildly in the brazier and cast moving shadows along the walls of the chambers around them. The Commander and his servant stood close enough to the fire so that Arthur’s bare chest was bathed in a bright orange light. Cara pulled the towel from his broad shoulders and dropped it into the linen basket beside the wash stand. Arthur reached with his un-injured hand to the laces of his trousers and fumbled at the ties; his shoulders slightly slumped in his tiredness and his right arm hung loosely at his side.
Cara closed the small space between them and brushed Arthur’s tired fingers aside. She set her mind to the task at hand, carefully untying the laces at the front of Arthur’s leathers and then grasped at the waistband. Averting her gaze, she tugged the wet leathers lower over his hips and knelt as she lowered them until Arthur was able to step completely out of his trousers. His masculine scent completely enveloped her and brought on another strong sense of longing. But Cara did her best to hide the trembling in her hands by digging her nails deeper into the leather material of Arthur’s now discarded trousers.
Without further aid or prompting, Arthur stepped into the tub full of warm water and slid down inside of the wooden vessel. He sucked in an audible breath presumably as fresh water soaked into the dirty bandages on his hand and reached sore muscles throughout his body - hopefully not because she’d gotten the water too hot for him to bear it. Cara had busied herself (once again averting her gaze) with depositing his mucky leathers into the linen basket while Arthur had climbed into the tub; giving him a little privacy for a brief moment at any rate. Not that he ever seemed to mind fully undressing and washing with Cara present. But Cara knew how her own body always reacted to his…and not wanting to make a fool of herself, she did her best to not stare openly at Arthur. She gathered the other items she’d need to continue.
It was no wonder as to why nearly every female at the outpost envied Cara’s position in the Commander’s chambers. Arthur was viewed as the ultimate prize by every scheming prospecting girl in the region. He was wealthy and powerful and could provide a girl with a solid prosperous future - if he so chose to. Oddly enough, Cara was fairly certain that the Commander had no lover despite how much his status was desired by nearly all that surrounded him. Unless one counted his Christian ‘god’ as the one he had bound himself to.
With a bottle of lavender oil in one hand, Cara turned back to where Arthur sat in the tub. She had had the choice between lavender or spice scented oils to cleanse his skin, and had chosen lavender due to the herb’s healing and soothing aroma for he must sorely need it tonight. Cara’s heart ached at how weary Arthur appeared to her eyes. He likely hadn’t slept for days and who knew what he’d had to do to survive and protect those in his charge while out on that mission of rescue. She knew firsthand how brave and merciful he was - she was living proof.
His head was tilted back against the rim of the tub with both hands resting on the lip on either side of his body. That dirty bloody bandage would be the first thing Cara would dispose of. She set the small bottle of oil down on the floor next to the tub and pulled a stool close against the side. The tub was not overly tall, but the stool would allow her some comfort as she worked. Carefully she undid the small knot in the strip of bandage, and gently lifted Arthur’s hand in hers, and began to unwind the bandage from his hand with slow and gentle movements. Cara glanced over at his face and noted his eyelids had shuttered and he appeared unaffected by her ministrations thus far.
Cara dropped the soiled bandage to the floor and examined Arthur’s hand in the firelight. There was a jagged cut across the top of his knuckles that twisted down to his wrist, but the cut did not gape open enough to warrant stitches. The wound had the beginnings of a scab, but certainly needed washing out if it was to heal properly. Cara would make a poultice and re-bandage the wound after she’d thoroughly cleaned the rest of Arthur’s person. The rain had perhaps washed away the worse of it, but the Commander still smelled of leather, sweat, horses and something else that Cara did not recognize. She wrinkled her nose at the one scent…but was not put off by any means. Arthur’s large palm easily dwarfed her own and his rough sword and rein worn fingers were surprisingly warm where they lay draped over Cara’s wrist.
“This might sting a bit,” Cara quietly cautioned as she dipped a small cloth into the bath water and began to touch the material to the gash on the back of his hand. Arthur made no sound, but his fingers momentarily flinched in her hold. The wound was not too deep and thus Cara had it thoroughly cleaned in a short amount of time. She also scrubbed at the dirt that was caked around his nails only to discover that it turned a reddish color once water was mixed with it. Not wanting to contemplate what it had been, Cara simply scrubbed at Arthur’s fingers until it was gone. She gently placed Arthur’s hand back down on the lip of the wooden tub and reached for the bottle of oil. She removed the stopper, cupped her fingers, and poured a generous amount into the palm of her left hand.
The bath water came up to the middle of Arthur’s abdomen. And while his upper body was aglow in the firelight from the nearby brazier, the lower half of his body was hidden in the shadows that were cast by the sides of the tub. His eyes remained closed; his chest rose and fell slowly and minutely with each breath that he took. Arthur appeared relaxed enough…comfortable, as most men were, naked in the presence of a woman….his servant girl, for that is all that I am. If their roles had been reversed, Cara would have been far too embarrassed for Arthur to see her undressed. Although her thoughts then turned to what it would feel like should his hands touch her bare skin; her shoulders, her stomach, her hips…..what would it feel like to be bathed by him? A powerful flutter took her insides again and she had to force those thoughts from her mind. Arthur would never have cause to bathe his servant girl. And Cara had after all tended Arthur many times, stitched small wounds and fussed over him when he’d taken ill, thus by the gods should be accustomed to seeing him naked by now.
Cara reached over the side of the tub and poured the oil from her hand across Arthur’s shoulders and chest. She stood and lightly pressed the palms of both hands on his right shoulder. His skin was certainly smoother than one would expect of that belonging to a hardened warrior. Cara’s fingers began to massage the area between Arthur’s neck and the firm roundness of his bicep. Her fingers meticulously worked in the oil and hopefully soothed his aching muscles in the process…..and miraculously her hands remained steady. Cara leaned closer to better examine a thin yet long scratch that ran from Arthur’s clavicle to the base of his throat - it would need to be thoroughly washed as his hand had been. In the process, her hip bumped against Arthur’s elbow. Cara murmured an apology to which Arthur cracked open one eye and softly smiled for a brief moment. Any other Roman would have cursed at her for her clumsiness…but not Arthur. Never Arthur.
For Arthur’s part, he was quite content to allow Cara’s gentle slender hands to rub his aching muscles and clean the blood and grime from his tired body. Before employing Cara, the Roman had been accustomed to the starched efficiency of male servants - typical staff of Roman baths, officers, and the medicus. But Cara had a far more caring touch than anyone who’d tended Arthur before and he had come to - may God forgive him - long for her nurturing ways when he required treatment. He had reasoned it was due to her being a woman verses the prudent and methodical touch of the male slaves. She might be physically weaker than a male servant, but there was compassion in her touch that the other servants lacked. Arthur had not missed her beauty either - despite his feigned ignorance of it when Lancelot so blatantly brought up the luxury of his Commander employing his own private ‘girl’ at every opportunity. Arthur believed that Cara worked in his chambers because she wanted to, and he thanked God for his good fortune for an efficient and reliable servant. Nothing more. Surely she did not want for suitors, and surely she had no interest in a prudent solitary Roman. Lancelot should mind his own private matters…Arthur’s thoughts soon lifted away on the swirls of steam that rose from the bathwater as Cara continued cleansing his body.
Cara moved to the other side of the tub and gave Arthur’s left side the same thorough ministrations as she had the right. Her hands sought to coat every inch of his skin above the waterline in the tub. The oil would have plenty of time to soak in and loosen up all the grime on his skin while she washed out his hair. Her fingertips lightly brushed over his erect nipples, careful of what she knew was tender flesh, as she continued to apply the oil across his broad chest. The light dusting of coarse hair on his chest did nothing to conceal the strong round shape of the muscles there. Her fingers did give firm and thorough rubbing to those areas. She heard a soft groan from Arthur’s lips every now and then, but beyond that he gave no sign of discomfort at her hands. If he only knew what affect this contact had on Cara - how her body responded. She licked at her dry lips and tried again in vain to ignore the tingling sensation building in her abdomen and focus on the job of cleaning him.
Cara nearly had completed the task of spreading the scented oil entirely over Arthur’s torso when the fingers of her right hand dipped below the waterline seemingly on their own accord. She had been gazing at the length of his dark eyelashes and pondering how handsome he was even when grimy and tired. Beneath her touch was the flat of Arthur’s belly and the soft trail of fine dark hair that led to….
She jerked her hand from the tub and bit at her bottom lip. To cover her embarrassment, should Arthur even bother to open an eye at the sudden movement, Cara turned to retrieve what she’d need to wash his hair. She should do that before scraping the oil from his skin or the effort to clean his upper body would be wasted. But oh how easily Cara was distracted by the sight of his naked shape before her eyes and the feel of his skin beneath her touch.
Mother Goddess give me strength.
Arthur did not stir. The only sounds in the chamber were those of the tinder in the brazier burning to sunder and the relentless pelting of ice on the glass in the window….and now the thunderous pounding of Cara’s heart. Surely he could hear it?
Cara slid two buckets on the floor below where Arthur’s head rested against the lip of the tub. One was filled with water, the other empty to catch the runoff. She cupped both hands together and scooped up a generous amount of water. Slowly she poured the water over Arthur’s hair so that the excess ran down into the empty bucket below. She had a small chunk of soap in the front pocket of her smock. Retrieving it, she began to make lather in the palm of her wet hands while she sat down on the stool just behind Arthur.
Her fingers dipped into the thick dark curls on Arthur’s head and worked the cleansing soap into the tendrils with slow and steady movements. Arthur again muttered a soft groan and tilted his head further back which gave Cara better access to the task. The water in the tub made a soft swoosh as his body shifted within it. Cara massaged Arthur’s scalp as she worked in the soap and was careful to keep any stray suds from finding their way forward into his eyes. She then stood, bent to retrieve the bucket of clean water, and carefully rinsed all the soap and dirt and grime from Arthur’s thick curly hair. She sat the bucket down next to the other at her feet and then used both hands to gently pinch as much water out of his hair as she could. Arthur’s hair, even wet, felt soft and smooth as it coiled around Cara’s fingertips in the process. She found herself mesmerized by how his hair seemed to cling to her hands….Focus! You foolish girl!!
Cara slipped her fingers from Arthur’s curly hair after silently chiding herself once again for becoming entirely distracted with even the simplest of things…. how the man’s hair willingly curled around her fingers…by the goddess!!. She bent and picked up a dry towel to gently brush over his head in one final attempt to mop up the damp residual from the washing. Arthur’s head lolled back against Cara’s bosom while she towel dried his hair. She breathed in sharply at the intimacy of the contact and then prayed he hadn’t heard her reaction to the feel of his head against her breasts. She should not long for the feel of him pressed against her body - it was inappropriate considering her place here. But Cara could not help how strongly that she was drawn to Arthur. Thus she did nothing to shift her body out from under his head until she was finished drying his hair. Cara gently lowered Arthur’s head back down on the lip of the tub; releasing him from her hands once she was done drying his hair. She dropped the towel to the floor by the stool and then retrieved a strigil from the wash stand.
As Cara turned back to the tub, she found Arthur had opened his eyes and was watching her. A flush instantly stained her cheeks - had he read her thoughts? Perhaps sensed her feelings for him in the way she’d touched his hair? Thank the gods that Cara’s face was in shadow since her back was to the brazier. He said nothing, only reached up to scrub a hand over his stubbled jaw and then sat up a little in the tub. Cara took a deep breath to steady herself and lifted the curved blade of the strigil to Arthur’s shoulder. She began the task of scraping the oil from his body. Cara had done this a handful of times in serving Arthur, but she still feared injuring him in the process. What foolish Roman ancestor had thought it a good idea to clean the skin by sliding a blade over one’s bare flesh?
Once Cara had finished scraping Arthur’s torso, she poured fresh warm water over his newly cleaned skin and then wiped the strigil on a towel. She would still need to clean his lower body, legs and feet.
“When you are ready, I’ll get your legs…and the rest, Commander,” Cara murmured, voice cracking only once as she bade Arthur to stand so that she could wash the remainder of his body. She felt her pulse quicken again at the thought of where her hands must now travel on Arthur’s body to complete the task of fully bathing him. She bent down to retrieve the bottle of oil and listened to the sounds of water softly splashing as he shifted to his feet within the tub.
Cara lifted her gaze to Arthur and felt another strong tremor of longing trip up her spine. His skin glistened in the warm glow of the firelight. Minute lines of shadow mixed with a smattering of dark curly hair highlighted his sculpted chest and tiny rivers of water trickled down his body further accentuating his muscular shape. A faded scar marked the area over Arthur’s ribcage and another crossed over the left side of his abdomen. But the old wounds did nothing to detract from Arthur’s physical allure. He stood with legs slightly parted, arms loosely hung at both sides and head canted slightly back as if he were stretching the taught muscles in his neck.
She pulled the stool closer to the side of the tub and sat down again, jar of oil in hand and eyes averted from the thick patch of dark hair covering Arthur’s groin. Cara poured a generous amount of oil into the palm of her hand and leaned forward. Her hands splayed out over the thick muscle of Arthur’s right thigh and she went on to smear the scented oil along both of his legs. The lavender scent slowly began to overtake the strong smell of leather, sweat and horses that seemed to permeate from Arthur’s skin at all times.
Cara reached up with the back of her hand to brush a stray strand of her hair out of her eyes as she worked the strigil along Arthur’s hip and down towards his knee. Once she’d thoroughly scraped both of Arthur’s legs, she wiped off the blade and then set it aside. What was left was the most delicate of Arthur’s skin and washing would require Cara to use only her hands…if she could hold them steady enough to do the job.
Arthur seemed to preoccupy himself with a few upper body stretches and his own inspection of the tear across his knuckles while Cara continued. She once again used a small lather of soap and then reached to wash over the roundness of Arthur’s buttocks. The palms of her hands made slow circular motions over his smooth skin. Cara’s shoulder brushed his hip as she reached down to scoop at the water to rinse away the soap. And once again she had a strong longing to feel his skin against her bare flesh; the smock and her thin linen dress were a meager barrier even now.
Only one area remained to be cleaned; the core of Arthur’s manhood and his vulnerability.
Cara bit at her bottom lip while she cupped her hands and dipped them into the warm bath water. She slowly poured the soapy water over Arthur’s groin. For a moment her eyes followed the flow of liquid as it found a path down his well formed shape, and finally trickled from the tip of his cock. She swallowed roughly while lifting her right hand to touch where the water had run off. Cara’s fingers gently cupped at his flesh and tenderly rubbed away the remainder of dampness and soapy residue left by the water; her thumb brushed over the thick tip in the motion. Cara was enchanted - and senses thoroughly aroused - by how silky smooth and delicate Arthur’s flesh felt in her hand. The area between her thighs tightened as a powerful wave of want flooded her body at the contact. She kept her head canted downward so that her flushed expression was hopefully shielded from Arthur’s view.
She forced her hand from Arthur’s flesh, reached for a towel for distraction and an attempt to break the spell of desire that was now raging rampantly throughout her body. Arthur was intoxicating. Did he not know his own allure?
It had been an age since Cara allowed a man to bed her - long before Arthur had rescued her and taken her in to work in his chambers. The coupling with a local farmer’s son had been quick and none too pleasurable for the young woman. Would it be any different if it was Arthur that Cara gave herself to now? It was a foolish thought as Commander Castus surely would want a woman of higher standing and beauty - not some low-bred servant girl he’d taken in out of pity.
Cara stood and began to rub the towel over Arthur’s damp skin, mindful of the scratches on his throat and hand…and of his deep green gaze. Her body still trembled with want for him and he’d surely see it in her expression should she meet his eyes now. Without a word, he stepped out of the tub as Cara reached for a second towel. She wiped the water droplets from his shoulders and rubbed the cloth the length of his body until he was reasonably dry. Cara wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it, and then she gestured for Arthur to sit at the wash stand. She’d see to his wounded hand before ushering the weary Commander to his bed. Her legs felt weak beneath her, but the sensation would pass….it always did once Cara left these chambers and went to her bed cold and alone each and every night.
Arthur sat while Cara quickly mixed a poultice in a small bowl on the wash stand. She used her index finger to scoop up a generous dollop of the stuff and then reached for Arthur’s right hand. Her skirts lightly brushed against Arthur’s leg and the Commander lifted his left arm to cough discreetly into his hand. Her fingers gently held his injured hand while she carefully spread the poultice over the jagged cut. She then spread a small amount of the poultice over the scratch along his neck in completing the task of tending his wounds. Arthur never flinched; not even while Cara wrapped a fresh bandage of linen around his hand rather snuggly to keep it clean.
“There, that should do it,” Cara said at last as she still held Arthur’s hand and examined her work with the bandage. She felt his gaze on her and finally dared to look into his eyes for the first time since she’d begun the bath. He was smiling and her heartbeat sped up yet again. Damn him.
“Your bed awaits, my lord,” Cara prompted and then immediately flushed at the realization of how her words sounded…or rather implied considering what her body was yet feeling in regards to Arthur. She then also realized that she was still holding his hand and promptly let go.
Arthur stood and brought his left hand to cup at Cara’s cheek. Impulsively, he canted his head to place a small soft kiss on Cara’s forehead while his thumb feathered over her warm cheek.
She was frozen with both surprise and longing for him. Arthur had never ever touched her that way before. The sensation was overwhelming and everything that she had ever imagined it would be - tender and warm. She closed her eyes and waited for whatever he might do next. She would do anything for this man whether he knew it or not. The fire in the brazier popped and cracked and added to the current in the air within the chamber.
Cara heard Arthur slowly exhale. His thick fingers brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes and then the contact was broken. She felt the loss of heat as he moved away. She slowly opened her eyes…and released her breath which she’d held from the moment he’d touched her cheek. Cara’s entire body quivered in the aftershock of feeling his lips pressed to her skin.
Arthur padded across the cool floor to his bed while he raked a hand through his damp hair and promptly yawned. As he came to the edge of the large bed, he reached down and removed the towel that Cara had draped around his waist; discarding it to the floor. He slid beneath the covers and groaned as he stretched out beneath the warm inviting furs.
Cara attempted to gather her wits about her again and trailed after the Commander. She blew out the oil lamp that was burning on the bedside table and picked up Arthur’s discarded towel. She placed the damp cloth into the linen basket on the other side of the table and then turned back to Arthur’s bed. She reached for the ties that held back the netting and loosened the veil that would enclose the bed for the night. But before the netting fell fully into place, Arthur reached out his hand….
Cara’s gaze focused on to the outstretched hand and she froze where she stood - unsure as to what the gesture meant or what else Arthur could possibly need. Her fingers clutched at the folds of her dress; uncertainty clearly filling her expression. She had done all that she could in tending him and preparing him to take his rest for the night. Had she forgotten something? Cara was definitely guilty of distraction tonight; her body still tingled in the aftermath of how Arthur’s flesh had felt beneath her touch and in her hands. She parted her lips to inquire what else he needed, but it was Arthur that spoke first…
“I wish for you to linger here tonight, Cara, if you would not mind it,” Arthur murmured; brilliant green eyes shimmering despite the shadows that surrounded him. His voice was not a command …but something simpler and kinder to Cara’s ears. Her entire body trembled while her gaze remained fixed on Arthur’s extended hand….
WHAT?? Had Cara heard Arthur correctly? He wished for her to stay with him?? There was only one thing that he could yet want….a strong twinge of longing claimed Cara’s insides and she released a bated breath; her pulse once again quickened. The Commander could send for anyone to share his bed and none would refuse. Yet he was requesting Cara’s company.
“I….yes….” Cara finally responded in a voice barely above a whisper. Was this truly happening? She slowly licked her bottom lip and took a step closer to the edge of the bed. She lifted her fingers to lightly touch the tips of his outstretched hand and thanked the Goddess for this most precious gift. For years she’d harbored an attraction to Arthur. For years Cara had imagined what this moment would be like. For years Cara had been certain that she had no place in the Commander’s life beyond that of servitude. Suddenly and ironically she heard Lancelot’s voice in her head - Why do you ‘think’ Arthur has had you working in his private chambers all this time? Hmm? He’s much too prudent to show it, girl, but he cares for you. Do more than his washing, Cara. She flushed at the memory of Lancelot’s little lecture, and flushed even more as Arthur’s fingers laced with hers in silent beckoning….she slipped through the opening of the netting to tend the man that she loved with all her heart.
Outside the wintry storm continued its relentless assault on the stone walls of the fortress; icy and cold and bitter. But here in the private chambers of the fortress commander was only warmth and tenderness and discovery.
~ End.
Feedback would be wonderful. This is not necessarily part of my 'Cara' series, but I may include it in my novel should I ever get it all written. *laughs* I also
should mention that what inspired this particular scene was a scene from the film The Reader. Thank you so much to those of you who have always supported my writing.