IP: 95.150.99.9
Posted on January 25, 2012 at 02:21:59 AM by arthur & pendragon
“Peace,” Pendragon said, “it is a curious state, is it not?” Arthur grunted non-committed from below. The king was seated behind his desk staring into the fire which crackled away in the stone hearth, his brow furrowed into a completive frown. The merlin was perched on the top corner of one of the three oaken bookcases which lined the opposite wall, the purple-blue of his wing feathers darkened by the dimness of the room, but the yellow of the fire seemed to make the amber of the bird’s sharp eyes all the brighter. “In many ways it is less certain than war,” Pen continued in his voice, which reminded Arthur so strongly of an old man who had been just as wise, just as bad-tempered, and on many occasions, just as annoyingly right. “Peace gives a man the time to think on things which war allowed him to neglect,” still the merlin spoke, and still Arthur stared into the fire, a goblet of wine clasped between his fingers, he lifted it to his mouth at intervals, gulping down some of the dark red liquid showing no sign that he was listening. Pendragon knew better. “War is about swords, and commands,” continued the familiar, “war is about protecting or gaining something, about staying alive. Peace is about living.” Arthur grunted again before taking another mouthful of wine. The bird watched him closely. “You are out of excuses, Arthur,” he scolded finally, “peace gives even Kings the change to live again. You have neglected her too long.” The man in the chair below him heaved a great sigh, “I know,” Arthur muttered almost to himself, placing the empty goblet down upon the desk, “I know.” It was hard. It was difficult for Arthur to think on what his familiar was telling him. He knew that every word the merlin spoke was true, but he was afraid. He was afraid that he had done it again, that he had become more King than lover, that he had lost her. The king could not bear to think on that. If he spoke to her, then she might confirm what he dreaded, speak the words he did not want to hear. Peace was a chance to live, but Arthur was afraid to learn whether or not he had run out of chances. The King pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, his head feeling light, he had, after all, drunk a fair amount of wine. Arthur covered it up better than most. It was with a heavy feeling in his stomach that he made his way out of his room towards the nearest stone staircase which wound upwards towards the tower room in which he knew he would find her. That same tower room that he had furnished for her specially, that room in which they had cemented the bond between them, when Arthur felt he had known her best. Did he know her now? Did she know him? He neared the top landing, and he knew that she was in the room because for a brief moment he saw her shadow pass him by. The King’s pace slowed. His hand pushed itself flat against the wall. He could still turn back. Turn around and go back down the stairs to his room below. No. It was not the time to start being a coward. He saw her before she did him, and he hovered in the dark of the corridor for a moment, his grey eyes resting upon her where she sat upon the bed, looking as beautiful as he remembered as she ran a brush through her golden hair. Her slender waist was emphasised by the clothes she wore. Gifts from his mother? Arthur found himself wondering. When was the last time he had brought her a dress? Too long. As with everything between them, it had been far too long. Arthur stepped forwards into the light of the room, leaning against the door frame where she could see him, a sad smile upon his face as he continued to watch her. “Have a lost you?” he muttered to the room, “have I done it again, Lilith?” He had a habit of driving away the women he loved, it had been the same with his Queen in his last life, she had turned to love another, because Arthur had been too busy being King. We all must make sacrifices, he had thought, let them be happy, where I am not. He was less prepared for that this time, less likely to say it. “Do you still love me?” just take a look, through my eyes image by One lucky guy at flickr.com |
Replies:
- I'd kill to save you - By Lilith and Seth February 26, 2012 at 06:25:39 PM
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