Ficlet: Always (King Arthur)
Title: Always
Rating: PG to be safe
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Summary: Lancelot and Guinevere come to a sort of understanding in the woods at night.
A/N: I am not really use to posting my writing and this is very short and not up to my usual par but I felt the need to write it.
"I would have left you and the boy to die," he told her.
It came as no surprise, yet she couldn't help but be startled. This revelation was not what she expected to hear from the knight and yet it was so obvious. This man would have left her and Lucan to die, not out of malice, but because he was afraid. Afraid to live, afraid to die, afraid to face the Saxons, perhaps afraid not to. Maybe what he was most afraid of was trying to help someone, trying to get close to someone, even if it was just as a savior. "Do you truly hate my kind so?" she asked.
Lancelot did not answer at first. He kept his gaze on the snow covered land. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I merely cannot be bothered."
"I do not believe that." She smiled. "What are you truly afraid of, Lancelot?"
He glanced up at her. She was beautiful he conceded. There was this glow about her he could not understand. It was no wonder Arthur seemed to be attracted to her. "I am not afraid of anything that concerns you."
Guinevere reached out in the darkness with her hand, palm up. She stood there, her eyes on Lancelot's, but he did not move. She smiled slightly. "I will not bite. I promise."
He glanced down at her hand and then, slowly, placed his in hers.
Her thin fingers closed around the back of his hand as she moved forward. She stood before him and rose up on her toes. She leaned in close to him, her lips near his ear. "I could never take him from you," she told him. "Arthur belongs to you. Always." She pulled back smiling. "Always."
Rating: PG to be safe
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Summary: Lancelot and Guinevere come to a sort of understanding in the woods at night.
A/N: I am not really use to posting my writing and this is very short and not up to my usual par but I felt the need to write it.
"I would have left you and the boy to die," he told her.
It came as no surprise, yet she couldn't help but be startled. This revelation was not what she expected to hear from the knight and yet it was so obvious. This man would have left her and Lucan to die, not out of malice, but because he was afraid. Afraid to live, afraid to die, afraid to face the Saxons, perhaps afraid not to. Maybe what he was most afraid of was trying to help someone, trying to get close to someone, even if it was just as a savior. "Do you truly hate my kind so?" she asked.
Lancelot did not answer at first. He kept his gaze on the snow covered land. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I merely cannot be bothered."
"I do not believe that." She smiled. "What are you truly afraid of, Lancelot?"
He glanced up at her. She was beautiful he conceded. There was this glow about her he could not understand. It was no wonder Arthur seemed to be attracted to her. "I am not afraid of anything that concerns you."
Guinevere reached out in the darkness with her hand, palm up. She stood there, her eyes on Lancelot's, but he did not move. She smiled slightly. "I will not bite. I promise."
He glanced down at her hand and then, slowly, placed his in hers.
Her thin fingers closed around the back of his hand as she moved forward. She stood before him and rose up on her toes. She leaned in close to him, her lips near his ear. "I could never take him from you," she told him. "Arthur belongs to you. Always." She pulled back smiling. "Always."