KA
fic
Tristan/Guinevere
fourth
part to "Watching"
'I am a fighter to
everyone but you, for you... I am just a silly woman in love.'
"And I am just a stupid man in love with you also."
Tristan said to himself as he sat watching his hawk feed on the white
field mice. Sitting on horseback out in the open country, Tristan
contemplated what Guinevere said to him the night they had first made
love. "Took her without permission is more appropriate."
After
returning to the party, Tristan left without a word to anyone, he
tried to find Arthur but was told by Bors that he left without
notice. Going back to his chamber, he sat on his bed and pouted. It
was childish and foolish of him to pout, he knew it, yet at that
time, it was the only that Tristan could do without yelling to the
whole of Britain that he had the most wonderful time with the woman
he loved.
Why did you pout? You always have to ruin
everything, don't you? Tristan was not upset that he made love to
Guinevere, a married woman and wife to his commander, nor did he pout
about the fact that he had her on the wall of the castle... no. I'm
upset because I almost hurt her, I was too rough and crude with her.
She is much to delicate of a woman to be handled so carelessly, I
should have waited!
"Look where waiting before got
you." Tristan reminded himself. "I waited last time and
wasted the golden opportunity; my patience wore thin... it's my
fault."
"Talking to yourself? This is twice now I
have caught a scouter off guard."
Tristan immediately
wheeled around while grabbing his sword, pointing it at the intruder
of his thoughts. Seeing immediately who it was, Tristan almost
dropped it on the ground, ashamed to have pointed it at her to begin
with.
"My Lady!" Tristan immediately jumped off his
stead, sheathed his sword, and rushed over to Guinevere, who was
sitting upon her horse. Reaching her, he didn't touch her but
instead, stared into her deep brown eyes, feeling himself and drown
and suffocate with love.
Guinevere was rendered helpless, also
gazing into Tristan's deep and solemn eyes, she felt a twinge of
sadness swimming through them. Guinevere wanted to reach out and
touch his scarred yet beautiful face, she wanted run her hands
through his dark brown hair, she wanted to feel his lips upon hers,
just as she had wanted since they departed last, two days ago. But
she didn't, she didn't move at all... just stared into his dark eyes,
giving what little of heart was left over to him completely.
Finally
finding her voice, albeit hoarse with desire, she whispered, "You
are a riddle yearning to be solved."
Smirking a bit, he
brushed the hair out of his eyes for a better view. "And only
you can solve it."
Overcoming the initial shock she feels
whenever she sees Tristan for the first time, she reached to cup his
cheek and softly caress it with her thumb. "What will the final
answer be?"
Slowly reaching up to the gentle hand
caressing him, Tristan lightly brushed his lips over it. "That I
love you."
Guinevere immediately closed her eyes, holding
back the tears of joy she felt whenever Tristan mentioned those three
glorious words. Feeling her heart beat quicken, she smiled a bit and
let the rush of heat flow over her body, welcoming
it.
"Guinevere?"
Hearing her name from
Tristan brought her attention back to him, "Yes?"
"About
the night of the party... I-I..." Tristan sighed with
frustration, angered that his tongue and mind were not corresponding
in agreement. "I just want to say that- well, I mean- I was
too... rough with you and... I'm sorry to-"
Guinevere put
her finger on Tristan's mouth, stopping him mid-sentence. "I
love you."
Feeling his heart expand as Guinevere muttered
these words, Tristan kissed the soft finger upon his lips and moved
it away slightly to speak. "I love you too."
"Love
means never having to say you're sorry."
Still holding on
to the finger that shushed him, Tristan reached to intertwine his
fingers with it. Kissing the hand, he replied, "Then I'm not
sorry."
"Nor am I."
Tristan reached for
Guineveres' dainty waist and helped her off the horse, locking arms
together, they slowly walked toward Tristan's hawk, mumbling sweet
nothings into each other's ears and ignoring the surrounding world.
They saw only each other, no one else; they walked as if they had no
care in the world.
Guinevere casually
strolled into her chamber, not glancing for a second to see if anyone
was in the room with her, humming one of Vanora's lullabies. Calling
out to one of her maids that she would like to take a bath, she
quickly and carelessly stripped out of her gown and into the tub that
was already partially filled with warm water by her quick
servants.
After the tub was filled, the rose petals
surrounding Guinevere already releasing their scent, and Guinevere
head back and eyes closed she let out a deep sigh of relaxation.
Enjoying the heat, she let her mind peruse the hours she spent with
Tristan.
Guinevere smiled when she thought back to Tristans'
worried expression when she tripped and fell on the hill and Tristan
was immediately by her side, kissing the invisible wounds that she
did not suffer. She touched the part of her neck, red and swollen
from too much nibbling and sucking, where Tristan insisted was the
softest and most irresistible skin he had ever tasted. She sighed
with pleasure thinking back to her own possessive marks she left on
his body, remembering how sweet and hot he tasted.
"Enjoying
your bath?" Arthur's voice was cool and flat; completely
detached and void of emotion.
Guinevere jumped out of fright,
splashing water over the tub and onto the floor. Grabbing for her
racing heart and trying to control her breath, she let out a sigh of
frustration. "You scared me!"
"I can see...
enjoying your bath?" Voice remaining the same, Guinevere turned
to see Arthur sitting in a chair in a corner, staring at her,
unmoving.
"I was until you scared me." Guinevere's
voice filled with annoyance.
"What were you thinking
about?"
"What?" She asked confused.
"You
seemed to be enjoying whatever it was you were thinking about. So I
ask... what were you thinking about?"
"Oh... just...
little things."
"Well, I'll be leaving on state
affairs tomorrow and won't be back for a week. And it seems to me
that we don't... talk anymore... so... enlighten me on your
thoughts."
Breaking contact from his cold stare,
Guinevere stared straight ahead, refusing to look back at him. The
bath that had seemed so warming and relaxing had become a corner that
Guinevere was backed into and could not escape.
"Is there
something on your mind Arthur?"
"I just want to
know what you were thinking... that's all." Each word Arthur
said was with precision and cold, like steel.
Tired of being
in a corner, she immediately stood up, unabashed by her nudity, and
reached for her robe. Hastily putting her robe on, she turned only
once to look at Arthur, her eyes filled with contempt and anger that
he had come across her at an intimate moment. "It doesn't
matter," was all Guinevere said before storming off.
Arthur
stood and followed, anger and strength surrounding him. "Oh, but
it does matter! It matters to me!"
"Why do you
care?" Guinevere yelled in retort, turning around to face
Arthur.
"Just tell me what you were thinking Guinevere.
Tell me." The thickness and cruelty in Arthur's voice shocked
Guinevere, but still, she did not give in to him. She stood there, in
silence, staring right back at him, dead set expression on her
face.
"Why can't you tell me, eh? Why can't you tell me!"
He yelled at her, the echo bouncing off the walls.
Guinevere
broke Arthur's deadly gaze and turned her cheek to him, trying to
ignore his anger while keeping up her strength.
A long, drawn
out moment of silence. Neither spoke nor looked at each other. The
air was growing thick and impatient. Arthur, with his back turned
toward her, finally broke the silence.
"You were thinking
about Tristan." Arthur neither turned around or changed the
emotion in his voice.
Guinevere's face betrayed her by looking
at Arthur, eyes wide with shock. Keeping control of her tongue, she
said nothing; only stared back.
"I know Guinevere."
Arthur finally looked at her, instead of anger or sadness, Guinevere
saw absolutely nothing in his eyes that gave way to what he was
thinking; as if he was a statue. "I know about you and
Tristan."
Other than Guinevere's eyes lowering to the
floor and her increasing breath, there was no other movement from
her.
"I saw you the night of the party... in the
hallway."
Guinevere let out a broken and ragged sigh, but
still... said nothing.
Arthur was now circling Guinevere, like
a vulture circling his prey, just waiting for the opportune moment to
strike.
"Stupid of me really... not to notice before. Do
you know what I did after I saw you two together?" He paused,
waiting for an answer. Realizing he wasn't going to get one, he
continued."I cried."
At this, Guinevere looked up,
eyes beginning to water. She looked upon Arthur's face, which a
minute ago seemed so unemotional, now was filled with sadness and
remorse. Unable to handle the pain, she looked back down to the
floor, it was the only thing she could do.
"I know what
you're thinking," he paused to stare into Guinevere's eyes, "I
never cry, save for the day on Badon Hill. But what I saw in that
hallway... made that day in battle seem like mere childs' play to my
heart."
Arthur now stood directly in front of Guinevere
and watched as tears rolled silently down her cheek, grabbing her
chin, he forced her to look at him. Staring up at him through teary
eyes, she took a deep and closed her eyes again, trying to stop the
tears that she hated to shed.
"I was so stupid!"
Arthur spat out a bitter and harsh laugh. "It never once
occurred to me that you didn't love me and loved him instead-"
"I-"
Guinevere tried to cut him off with her sob filled voice.
"No.
Let me finish. What's done is done. I can say nothing more about
this. I leave tomorrow... early and will be gone for a week, that
will give you enough time."
Sniffing and having
difficulty breathing, she finally managed to croak out, "Enough
time for what?"
"To decide where your heart lies...
unless... you already know?"
Yes, I do know, but
Guinevere remained silent, not trusting her tongue if she had let it
slip.
After a moment more of silence, Arthur turned his back
and began to ready his things for the trip. Guinevere said nothing,
merely turned away and retrieved her gown. Hastily putting it back
on, she grabbed a large purple cloak and silently left the
room.
Guinevere was running, not knowing where her
legs were taking her, but she continued running. Holding the mournful
cries she longed to yell, she wiped away the tears with the back of
her hand. Continuing down whatever path her feet had chosen, she felt
her body being ripped and shredded apart by love and
reason.
Stopping to catch her breath and rest her legs, she
suddenly felt very dizzy and nauseous. Guinevere took a deep breath
to try to settle her sense but only increased the uneasiness in her
stomach. Bending over she finally retched, coughing and still crying,
she heaved until there was nothing left for her to vomit.
Feeling
the queasiness slowly dissipate, she looked around her to locate
exactly where she was. Standing in a dark hallway, she noticed light
from the outside coming from behind a door, walking over to it, she
opened it and stepped out into the cold, but invigorating,
air.
Reaching down to scoop some snow into her hand, she
slowly sucked on the ice trying to ease the burning and stinging in
the back of her throat. Chewing and eating the ice, she felt her
stomach return to normal and her dizziness clear away. Feeling a bit
cold, Guinevere went back inside the hallway and looked back to where
she was heading.
Guinevere walked forward a bit more and
couldn't help but gasp when she saw where she was subconsciously
headed. Standing in front of Tristan's door, she made no move to
knock or enter. She contemplated turning around and heading
elsewhere, away from her husband and lover. And where will I go?
I'm thinking about Tristan either way... it would make no
difference.
Swallowing and clearing her throat, she
brushed her hands through her hair, trying to make it look at least
presentable. Stepping forward, she lightly knocked on the wooden
door.
It had barely been a few seconds before Tristan was at
the door, opening it slowly to see who the visitor was and opening it
wider and faster when he finally saw who it was.
"Guinevere!
What happened?" Tristan blurted out, immediately grabbing her in
his arm, covering her slender body with his strong arms.
The
confusion and hurt Guinevere was feeling evaporated the instant she
felt his body enclose hers. The sudden rush of relief and ever
growing feeling of safety swarmed her body as he wrapped his arms
tighter around her. I feel so safe...
Letting herself be
taken up into Tristan's arms, Guinevere closed her eyes and sniffed
the familiar scent that she had grown to love and crave. The warmth
and love that Tristan provided for her allowed Guinevere to ignore
all of what Arthur said and just drift into his arms, not caring for
anything, only loving Tristan.
Tristan engulfed Guinevere's
body, hugging it tightly yet never crushing her. Tristan wanted to
hold on so tightly and strong, never wanting to let her go. He felt
the familiar beat of her heart and her body slowly relaxing into his
arms. However, no matter how relaxed she may have felt, Tristan saw
the look in Guinevere's eyes when he opened the door for her, it was
filled with pain and poignancy. Tristan reached out his hand and
gently ran his hand along her hair, trying to comfort and ease her
pain.
"Tell me, my love, who or what has made my angel
so morose?"
Guinevere slowly opened her eyes and lifted
her head to look upon Tristan.
"Oh! It was terrible-"
Guinevere stopped immediately when she gazed into Tristan's
eyes.
She saw the care and love he had for her in his eyes,
she also saw the desperate plea in his eyes, begging her to tell him.
She heard the quiet fear in voice that told her he was scared for
her... for the both of them.
Glancing from one eye to other,
she felt responsible. He cared for her and loved and protected her,
yet... what did Guinevere do to protect him? What had Guinevere done
to show her love for him? She knew that what they have and share is
delicate, so fragile that the gentle wind would crack and shatter it.
The only thing not gentle or faint was their love for each other,
Guinevere knew that their love could last through death and hell
together.
But... Tristan. Tristan was also fragile, the love
he had cautiously given her was strong, but easily hurt. Guinevere
saw the delicacy in his eyes and body, as strong and skilled as he
was, he was still human. He suffered and felt pain like any other
human, he loved and cried like any other human. Tristan was just as
easily hurt as she was.
Guinevere knew that she could cause
him pain, pain that she herself would rather die from than inflict
upon him. But she also knew that Tristan would deal with the pain,
rather than ignore it and pretend it wasn't there.I cannot cause
him pain, I refuse to!
"I... I had a nightmare. I got
scared and... I... wanted to see you."
Guinevere felt his
tense body relax and heard him let out his pent up breath. Smiling a
tiny bit, he wrapped his arms around her tighter and gently kissed
the top of her head. "Sleeping during the day hours, are
you?"
Leaning her head into his chest again, she felt a
twinge of guilt creeping through her mind, but she immediately pushed
it back. "Only to see you more each day." She said quietly,
trying to force her smile back on her face. "Only to see you..."
She repeated, convincing herself that she was right lying to him. I
refuse to cause him pain!
TBC
Line taken
from "Love Story"
