Chapter One: Arthur and Guinevere

"The mind and heart always have a battle. The latter always seem to win."

-Aristotle

After the battle on Badon Hill, after the deaths of Lancelot and Tristan, after a long night of fighting...the three knights, Arthur and Guinevere lived in pain and agony, having to lose their friends. The loss of Lancelot became extremely hard on Arthur, for his best friend, his right-hand man was no longer by his side. He had never before thought of what he would feel if he lost Lancelot before he was ready, but now that his nightmare became reality, he found himself leaning toward Guinevere for support, and she was more than willing to give it. After their marriage and Arthur was dubbed the king, his relationship with Guinevere heightened. His knights: Bors, Gawain and Galahad were set free and they each returned home, each mourning after another, each wondering on what they shall do next, and Arthur suddenly found himself in the realization that he was alone...alone with Guinevere.

But perhaps that was the best thing about this arrangement.

His love for Guinevere had grown over the past years. His wanting her, his lust for her...each heightening each time he looked at her. Her mind, however, seemed to focus itself on other complications, complications that Arthur had not known, complications that Arthur found himself wondering. But his politeness and his nobility kept him from asking such private questions, for he wished to reserve his marriage and keep it for the rest of his life.

Guinevere on the other hand, began to feel an emotional turn of events as she struggled between her heart and her mind. It seemed that her heart and mind were always in an ongoing war with another, the mind always being the victor of various battles, but now...now, things had changed...now...there might be a change in the wind. By now, her mind and her heart had realized that her love for Arthur was nothing more than a brotherly to sisterly love. By now, her mind and her heart had realized that had been lying to her husband, and her mind told her to keep it, to reserve their marriage, while her heart told her it wasn't right to keep Arthur in the dark. By now...Guinevere began to realize that her heart had always belonged to Lancelot, and upon realizing this, Lancelot's death was harder on Guinevere than it was on Arthur. Torn between her body, she kept these feelings of guilt, embarrassment and sadness from Arthur as she continued to live in vain and agony.

As the years passed, Arthur and Guinevere's marriage began to rocket back and forth. Their feelings were uncertain of each other anymore and secrets were kept between them. At most, their supper might have gone well with few words exchanged and nothing else was said for the rest of the day. Arthur's continued suspicion of Guinevere caused a rift between them and he secretly began to distrust her on her words. The torn battle between her mind and heart caused Guinevere to become an unstable and unpredictable woman, also splitting the marriage in two. But finally, after many years of hurt and sadness, she decided that her heart had won and told Arthur her true feelings. As she spotted him resting in a chair in the master bedroom, she summoned up enough courage and took a deep breath, first making sure that she caught his attention and preparing herself to say what she knew needed to be said.

"My love," she said, after she was sure that he was listening to her. She silently cringed at the name she had called him, "I have not been quite honest with you over the past years."

Arthur said nothing, already knowing this. The expression on him was not detectable, but his feelings exploded of boast, hurt and wonder. He set down a book he was reading and turned to face forward at Guinevere, intent on what she was saying, "Then tell me now or forever hold your peace."

At this slow reaction, Guinevere began to chicken out and wonder if her heart was the wrong victor in this situation. After several seconds of recollecting her thoughts, she decided that if she did not say this now, she would never say it again, "My heart and mind have been battling a long war. On several occasions, my mind has been the victor, but on this last battle...the winds changed and now my heart had won," she glanced away, pacing around the room, "Forgive me, my lord, but...I must speak the truth, for if naught I do it now...I shall never say it again."

At this, Arthur was not as surprised as perhaps he should have been. His mind began to clutter with possible things that Guinevere might tell him next and as he sat there, his face beginning to show emotion of sadness, he wondered if this would be the end of his marriage with the woman that he loves. He didn't say anything to her again, for she paused to see his reaction, but he chose not to show it...though slight sadness in his eyes began to peel away the rest of his mask and he looked away, feeling Guinevere's eyes penetrating into him.

She sat down on the bed, seeing the sadness in Arthur's eyes he turned to look away. She had never seen the expression...only when he was talking about the death of his parents, it was rare to see Arthur so broken...worried...scared. She again wondered if perhaps she was doing the wrong thing, but once again her heart spoke out and once again, it had won the battle. She cleared her throat, and said, "I...found my heart leaning towards another. Another that I cannot have. Another that I wish to see once more. Another that I am afraid to admit his name," she paused a moment, wondering if Arthur could understand her hint and know the name of the man who holds her heart.

The clues were, at first, baffling to Arthur. But as he began to understand the words started to register in his mind, he only knew that it had to be one of his knights and from the way she spoke, a dead one. That left, Dagonet, Tristan or Lancelot. Upon realizing this, his heart gave a jump, as if take one more beat before shutting down completely from despair and sorrow. Dagonet said no words to Guinevere, for he was the quiet type, this Arthur knew...he knew that the man she spoke of is not Dagonet. And neither Tristan as well, for what reason, Arthur was not sure. But as he began to think more and more, he found himself thinking of Lancelot...for it was he who captured the Queen's heart. He bent his head down, his back still towards Guinevere, and his eyes slowly filling with salty water, he said nothing for fear of showing his weakness through his voice.

At this reaction, seeing Arthur bend down in sorrow, Guinevere could guess that he knew the name of her love. It was as if she could hear the breaking of his heart and small and short sobs sounded from him and Guinevere made an instinct move to comfort him, only to be pushed away. Her eyes showed of shock...then understanding as she moved away back towards the bed and continued, "I am sorry. But upon the war between my heart and my mind, I realize that I have been lying to you, Arthur. I cannot go on living with guilt, sorrow and uncertainty. I shall speak the truth to you from now on. My heart has always belonged to Lancelot."

"He is dead," Arthur said, his head raised, his eyes wiped and his anger now showing. His voice was sharp and blunt; it seemed to slice the Queen in half as she slightly flinched at the harshness of his voice. Guinevere said nothing; no surprise shown in her eyes or face as she moved to close the door, for two servants had passed the moment he had spoken. Their eyes cast a look of curiosity and worry as they hurried on. Guinevere smiled giving the two girls assurance that they were looking for, then turned back to Arthur, "You love your dead mother, do you not?"

This remark angered Arthur even more, for he did not wish to speak of his dead parents at this moment. He said nothing for a moment, his thoughts seemed to be scattered and an instant headache developed inside him as he held his head, still not facing Guinevere. He could see her point, but to reacted in defense, "That is different."

An artful arch of an eyebrow raised on Guinevere, "Oh? How so? Isn't the love of your mother something that you cherished? My love for Lancelot is something I cherished. Aren't they both dead? Show me what difference that is. Love has no difference at all. The definition of love in my eyes is that you care for someone deeply, you want to ease any pain they feel, you want to help them in any situation. Isn't that what you feel for your mother?" Guinevere knew that her voice was harsh and not understanding, but this time, she put her foot down, she wasn't going to be taken as someone who has a bad heart, for she hadn't. She was a good person who only fell in love, was it so wrong to fall in love?

Arthur said nothing again, it was true and not true, what Guinevere had said. At this time, however, he was in no mood to argue, the pain in his heart hurt too much. The thoughts of his mother sent him to tears again, and he sobbed silently, determined not to show Guinevere his sorrow then to his unwill he sniffed. Guinevere's eyes narrowed the sniff and instantly she realized how truly hurt he was. At this, Guinevere felt the urge to walk over to him again, wrap him in her arms and hold him, hold him as they both cried until their eyes went dry. She moved to him and saw him quickly wipe his tears and she hesitated a moment, as if to ask if she should move any closer and when she received no answer, she wrapped her arms around him, "I'm sorry, love. I am so sorry," tears then began to flow out of her already watered eyes.

And they sat there the rest of the night, both sobbing into the others arms.

Arthur and Guinevere end.