Disclaimer: don't own it.
A/N: King Arthur is like the coolest movie ever.
She felt a tear slid down her face, and mixture of emotions playing through her mind.
She knew she'd never loved him, not that way.
But she knew he loved her.
And she felt guilt overwhelm her, for the choices her heart had to make, and the hearts broken by that choice.
Especially now the broken heart stopped beating.
As she saw his dead body lying there she grieved for him, for the life he had yet to live.
He came into this world, this country by force. But he fought for them, with them by choice.
By love.
For freedom.
Guinevere knew this, and her heart swelled with pride for his fight, yet her soul burned with hate for his death.
They killed him, they ruthlessly killed him.
Now it was her turn to do the same.
And with that thought, and the sticky feeling of blood on her face, and hands. She resumed the fight.
A/N: Okay, that was a bit weird. But I just felt the urge to write it so I did so. Please, no flames.