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nothing you can say, nothing you can do
IP: 82.19.140.112
Posted on August 26, 2012 at 04:28:54 AM by arthur & pendragon



Arthur held up his hands, a small smile playing idly in the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to tell you to go anywhere,” he assured her, a little taken aback by the outburst, as if she had been caught doing something wrong. Many rooms in the castle were open to the public during the day, with only the family rooms remaining off-limits. The attic rooms were not specifically set-aside for either purpose, but if she liked it amongst the dust and broken things, then he was not about to order her away. He knew what it was like to need familiar objects around you in a familiar place that felt like one’s own. It was one of the reasons why he spent time in his chapel in the left wing. He did not always go there to pray, sometimes he would go there to think, or even to sit in the quiet with a glass of wine. If this was her chapel, then so be it. “You’re quite welcome to stay,” the King continued, his smile growing a little broader before he gestured at an upturned wooden crate? “May I?” he requested, asking for permission to sit with her amongst the broken things that loomed over them both in tall stacks that seemed to be suspended by impossibility alone.

Arthur’s steady grey eyes settled upon her face, taking in the fire in her own wide eyes that was reflected in the long locks of her red hair. The last time he had met her they had been children, back before he had needed to shave and before she had any waist to speak of. They had changed since then, the world, he supposed, had changed with them, but here they were, looking into each other’s faces again, beneath wooden beams laced with the webs of spiders. “I was in the Library,” Arthur explained, in answer to her question, gesturing towards the floor, “this room is directly above it. It was quiet, and I heard the floorboards.” A shrug followed his explanation, a gentle rising and falling of his broad shoulders as the king looked from the floor, back to her face. She had moved ever so slightly, the light from the window behind him drifting through the glass and past his ear to illuminate her dress, and the smooth skin of her chest that the lowered neckline of her dress left visible. “I suppose I have been a little paranoid of late, forgive me?”

Feeling her fingers close around his hand, Arthur glanced down at them with a reflective smile. He had forgotten how gentle a woman’s hands could feel. The King rested his free hand atop her offered one as he rose back to his feet, “I shall not out-stay my welcome,” he told her, pushing her hand back towards her body, his arm brushing against the blue fabric of her skirts, “I will leave you in peace.” Again the floorboards creaked beneath his feet as they traded places, he becoming the one closest to the door, and she the nearest to the window. Without him to block it the light streamed in more boldly, catching the highlights in her hair and picking out the shine in the fabric of her gown. Arthur offered her a small respectful bow before forcing himself to turn towards the door, his fingers closing around the door handle. “You are welcome here any time Dyna,” he said softly without turning around, “a place to be alone with memory is a precious place indeed.”







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