Guinevere closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and relishing the scent of approaching rain riding the wind. It blew past her face, lifting her hair up and away from her face, and for a moment it felt as though she were flying, swooping downwards, twisting in the air, knowing that no matter what she did, she would touch the ground when she wished to. She exhaled through her nose, eyes slowly blinking open as they looked to the sky.
Despite it being the afternoon, she could see the moon in the sky, a crescent of pearly white against a stripe of blue. On the horizon, the dark clouds approached, reaching forth with the promise of rain, and Guinevere pulled her shawl more firmly around her shoulders as she continued her stroll through the castle's courtyard. Any respite, no matter how brief, from castle politics and governance was a blessing. The months had become busier as of late, with less chances to go out and find her treasures, and so with every spare moment, Guinevere went outside, trying her hardest to keep herself from going stir-crazy. The coming rain only warned of even less chances to get outdoors, much to her displeasure.
Guinevere sighed, making her way over to one of the rosebushes, touching a withering flower delicately with her fingertips. The colder, wetter months were coming forth, with the skies darkening earlier and the clouds blocking the sun, and the world seeming just a bit more empty, save for the moon, consistently there when the skies were clear, a small comfort in the middle of an expanse of nothingness. She stood up again, looking back to the skies as the wind picked up again.
"Stare at the sun for too long and you'll go blind, Your Majesty."
The queen's ear twitched toward the voice, and a small smile made its way to her lips.
"Now why would I be looking at the sun when the moon is right there to be admired?" she responded smoothly, turning around to face the speaker. "What kind of fool do you take me for, Sir Gawain?"
Violet eyes widened before shifting away. Gawain was without armor, his gear still at the forge for repairs, and it was an absolute treat to see his face redden in embarrassment. "I didn't… I didn't mean to imply-"
"Hush, Gawain, I know what you meant," Guinevere soothed, taking a few steps toward him. "Now, what brings you to the courtyard, hmm?"
Gawain shifted, uncrossing his arms, and Guinevere's attention was drawn to the white crescent shape on his chest, so similar to the one in the sky above. "I wished to accompany you," he admitted, bringing her attention back to his face. "If that's fine by you."
Guinevere blinked once in surprise; Gawain was rarely the one to initiate their little meetings. There must have been something important on his mind, then. "Of course," she returned, dropping most of the playful pretense that came naturally to their banter. "Come with me."
They walked side by side, facing forward, though the queen would glance to the side now and again to see the guardian pressing his mouth into a thin line, struggling with something unsaid. As she waited patiently for him to put his thoughts to words, her eyes darted back to the moon on his chest, and she felt her smile return as her gaze went back to the mirror image in the sky. The moon… looming above, not always in sight but consistently there, watching over them all…
It suited him.
She heard a sharp intake of breath coming from the side, then a defeated exhale. She knew it was time to intervene.
"So what brings you to me today?" she asked, keeping her tone light. "I know it's not another update on my emerald."
"And what makes you so sure about that?" he returned, finding his voice in an instant to challenge her, and it was like a fire to her soul, engaging her wit and playfulness.
"Because you gave me an update just yesterday," she replied, unable to pull back her grin at the look of delayed mortification on his face. "And I'm sure you would have said something about it by now were that the case."
Gawain turned his head away, mumbling words that she couldn't catch under his breath. Guinevere smirked, looking ahead once more, but a sense of trepidation caught her as she realized she still had no idea what he was struggling with.
Well… she had one idea. An unpleasant one, a reminder of the night she had come across him in this very same courtyard, a blade to his neck…
Guinevere tensed up at the memory, and of many other instances when she had come across the guardian, haunted by the same musings that had plagued him that night. "You… You haven't been having those thoughts again, have you?" she asked quietly, and Gawain's hand shot up to his neck, rubbing against the small thin scar that lay underneath the red fur as though he, too, was remembering that night.
"No," he admitted, and Guinevere felt herself relax. "Not lately."
"You still haven't told your siblings about it?"
"Of course not! How could I ever tell them… that there was a point that not even they…" Gawain's fists clenched as he tried to calm down. "It's still only you that knows, and… I'd rather keep it that way."
Guinevere hummed, leaning over to nudge him lightly with her shoulder. "As you wish. But… I would rest easier knowing you have someone aside from me to talk to about it. Should things ever get worse, and I am unable to help you…"
"I shall be fine. I am the one to be guarding you, not the other way around," he said, firm as to make sure there was no debate. Then, softer, "Trust me. I have no intention of ever holding a sword to my throat again."
And though she wanted to debate, just out of habit, the bat relented. "Okay. Okay… I trust you."
And she meant it.
A small smile spread across Gawain's face, gentle and warm. A lovely smile, one that was absolutely worth conceding for… but it vanished in an instant as whatever had been bothering the red knight came back up to the surface, and he appeared to be tormented again. Guinevere decided that she was done watching him struggle.
"Then what is on your mind?" she urged, and for a moment, Gawain looked absolutely helpless before he let out a resigned sigh.
"I don't understand… they should have faded by now."
Guinevere's eyes narrowed. "What should have faded?"
The echidna's eyes dropped to the ground, and his mouth struggled to let the words out. "My feelings… usually they don't last this long…"
Guinevere's heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened. Were they really going to have this conversation? Now? "What feelings?" she demanded, more forcefully than she wanted, and she was met with a glare from her companion.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he growled, face flushed with embarrassment, and he was right. Guinevere knew what he meant, and her own face grew warm as she looked firmly ahead, wondering how to continue.
It was inevitable that this would come up. She had known it for a while. The mutual attraction, the mutual interest... It had been building, slowly but surely, with every interaction they had, from the first time she had stolen Galatine from his hands to asking him to dance on the night of the wedding, from taking him on several adventures to catching him in the courtyard that night. To the moment they traded their most prized possessions in a display of trust and a promise of growth. To Gawain's steadfast and consistent efforts to find the emerald shards and bring them back to her. To Guinevere's frequent and careful checks on the state of Gawain's psyche. To the laughs they shared, the respect they built, the pushes and jabs they threw at each other to keep things interesting...
All the way to right now.
For so long, their relationship had been odd to define, as they danced around the subject, with one happy to wait for the other to come to terms with what they were feeling and what they wanted. A lot of unspoken understandings went between them, unsaid boundaries and pleas to wait, all culminating to this moment when they would put it all before them.
Guinevere exhaled softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her shoulder. It was now. There was no more putting this off. "Very well. Yes, I know what you meant. And… I'm sure you know my feelings on the matter."
Gawain swallowed, also choosing to look forward. "All too well."
"Then what do you want to do?"
A short, bitter bark of laughter left the knight, prompting a frown from the queen as she knew where this conversation was about to head. "That's just it, isn't it? You know how I… You know my thoughts. On marriage and what it means to me."
"Of course I do," Guinevere replied dryly. "I've been hearing you struggle to come to terms with Arthur and Lancelot for a while now."
"And I'm happy for them!" Gawain insisted as his frustrations bubbled to the surface. "Truly, I am! The king's happiness means a great deal to me, but it… it goes against everything I was taught for so long. For a married man to... and for me to... for a married woman..." The knight groaned and gripped at the spines around his head. "It's not so easy to just… just completely change a view you've had for most of your life!"
Guinevere bit her lip, looking back up to the sky. The clouds had covered the moon by that point, and the sky offered no answers. She knew that Gawain had gone through a great deal, trying to balance his upbringing with a world that was rushing forth with or without him. She had seen him do his best to run along with it, with everyone, despite his misgivings. The knight had put aside so many discomforts for her sake, for Arthur's sake, for the sake of the other knights. Gawain was brave in so many ways that she didn't always recognize, and maybe… maybe it was time that she started to meet him halfway instead of always dragging him along.
"Would you like to hear what I want?" she asked softly.
A microscopic fraction of the weight of Gawain's conundrum lifted from the Guardian Knight's shoulders, and he glanced over at her with a small nod of his head, dropping his hands from his spines. Gently, carefully, Guinevere slipped her hand into his, holding fast as he jolted, his instincts roaring at him to run away and to hold back and never let go. She had seen it in his eyes, in his body language for a long while, and it was time to finally let it be put to rest. Her thumb trailed softly against the back of his hand as she considered how to put what she was thinking into words.
"I want to give it a try," she said, making sure her voice was clear, removing all flirty undertones so that he knew she was serious. "Just a try. I know… I know it's not easy for you, not in the way it is for me, so if you ever…" She cleared her throat, annoyed at how bashful she was feeling as Gawain's eyes fixed on her. "...if you ever find that this is not something you can maintain, you only need to let me know, and I will let you go. But so long as there is a chance that we could make something work… I would rather have tried and failed than never tried at all."
Their stroll had ceased; Guinevere felt the winds start to blow again, streaming through her hair and darting around her dress, sending a small chill through her body as she waited.
"...In that case, I'll… I'll do it."
The queen's eyes widened and her head snapped to the side, staring back at him in amazement. She hadn't expected an answer that soon, or perhaps even at all that day. She had anticipated letting Gawain mull it over for a while, but the knight was looking at her, still nervous and confused and uncertain, but firm in his choice. His hand squeezed hers in a silent promise as his mouth said, "If that's what you want."
And Guinevere, completely blown away, could only nod mutely. A small grin played on Gawain's mouth, as though he took some pride at stunning her speechless, but it gave way as the reality of the situation dropped down on him.
"But… But don't get any funny ideas!" he warned, fumbling over his words. "There's still some things I absolutely won't do with a married woman, so I won't be… Don't expect me to… to gallivant around with you!"
Guinevere broke out of her stupor at that, laughing loudly and freely, bending at the middle and trying and failing at suppressing her snorts. "Oh… Oh dear Gaia…!" She calmed down, laughter subsiding into a giggle as Gawain stood there, red-faced. "My darling Gawain, do not worry about that. I've never been the sort to, ah, gallivant with anyone at all, regardless of my relationship with them."
The knight blinked, somehow going even redder, and looked away. "Well… good! That's settled then!"
Guinevere continued to giggle, squeezing his hand in turn. "My goodness, that seemed to weigh on your mind quite a bit. Was that what had you so worried?"
"A-As if I would focus on something like that! Don't think such things about me!"
They continued as they usually did, bickering and laughing, challenging each other with words and jests, but now their hands stayed together, another unspoken promise between them, communicated by the occasional squeeze of the hand. It would take a lot of work. Guinevere knew this. But she hadn't been lying when she said that she wanted to give it a true, honest shot. She trusted Gawain to let her know if he couldn't keep it up, just as Gawain trusted her to guide him along as he tried to shift his understandings, and to meet him halfway when he couldn't find his way forward.
They both ran inside as the first drops of rain fell and the sky grew dark, but Guinevere no longer had to look at the sky to see her moon.
They would figure it out. She knew they would.
I learned recently that the white shape on Knuckles' chest is supposed to represent the moon while the circle on Sonic's chest is supposed to represent the sun and I was slammed with more celestial symbolism.