IP: 82.19.140.112
Posted on September 15, 2013 at 06:09:10 AM by a r t h u r
 Arthur stopped in the doorway and pulled off his mud-soaked boots, standing them on a stone tile laid flat on the carpet just inside the doorway. Straightening up he moved his head from side to side so that his neck cracked. He had been out hunting with Tristan all morning, and they had managed to bring home some quarry to fill the larder and stock the table. The downside was after about an hour the heaven’s had opened and the rain had started to fall. The horse’s pounding hooves had churned up the ground and sent mud flying in all directions. It was all over their clothes, their hands and their faces. The king ran a hand through his hair, which was equally covered in clay, as he crossed to the window on the opposite side of the room and looked out across the gardens. He did not notice the cat asleep on his bed. He could remember looking out of the same window at her planting the rose bushes that now bloomed in the flower beds. They were still here, even if she had gone. Somedays, he woke up in his bed with another woman, dressed, and went about his day. Then later, something would remind him that Lilith wasn’t there, a room, a smell, food...or a rosebush. Arthur sighed. The biggest reminder of her was found in Tristan, of course. The older the boy got and the stronger his features became the King saw her in him more and more. From the strong line of his cheeks to the shape of his eyes...it was sometimes like looking at a ghost. Tristan would frown sometimes, and the expression was an exact replica of how hers had been. Arthur supposed he was blessed that he was left with something so precious to remember her by. Parts of her preserved inside another living human soul. Sighing, the king pulled his muddy shirt off over his head, shook it back the right way round and draped it over the window seat for the maids to collect whilst he was at dinner. His shoulders felt stiff. Retreating a few steps he sunk down onto the mattress, ran his hand across his face, and then leaned back until he was lying horizontally across the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Arthur gave a start when his hand brushed against something furry. He sat up again with a snap and peered across the pillows, his eyes settling on an unusual looking cat. At first, it did not seem remotely familiar. His initial conclusion was that Tristan had sneaked it into the room in some strange kind of prank. He was just about to call the guards when something stopped him; a strange nagging kind of familiarity. When it clicked, he didn’t believe it. Feeling a little foolish in case it turned out that he was actually speaking to a wild animal (and he was about to get bitten, literally) he rested a hand gently on the creature’s head. “Ciara?”  |
Replies:
- where there is desire there is gonna be a flame; arthur - By c i a r a September 15, 2013 at 06:47:27 PM
- I know that time has numbered my days - By a r t h u r October 6, 2013 at 11:35:03 PM
- where there is desire there is gonna be a flame - By c i a r a October 7, 2013 at 02:24:34 AM
- I know that time has numbered my days - By a r t h u r October 6, 2013 at 11:35:03 PM
Post a reply:
<--
-->