'You are a riddle yearning to be solved.' Tristan quickly opened his eyes. Taking a moment to readjust his eyes to the dark surroundings, he felt his chest heave up and down to a slow and rhythmic pattern.

Finally being able to see through the dark of the room, he glanced to the left of him, trying to remember where he was. My room. What happened?

Turning his head to look to the left of him, Tristan watched with serene pleasure the sleeping figure next to him. Ahh, yes... I remember. Quietly and softly moving onto the side of his body, Tristan watched Guinevere sleep soundly next to him, breathing evenly and looking peaceful.

Tristan extended his arm to lightly brush over Guinevere's raven hair, feeling his fingertips tingle at the feel of softness. Then, moving his hand down to her supple cheek, he grazed his knuckles over her skin. At the touch of skin against hers, Guinevere softly mumbled and sighed, putting her into a deeper sleep.

Tristan moved his hand away and turned back onto his back, putting his two hands underneath his head. Tristan thought back to the earlier afternoon, when Guinevere came rushing into his arms, looking scared and weepy. Thinking back to the shock look on Guinevere's face my Tristan's heart tighten and momentarily stop, Tristan reached out to place his hand over his heart and sighed.

He felt the thud of his heart and knew that something was not right but not able to put his finger on it. He didn't want to... if something was wrong, Tristan didn't want to hear about it. It made his heart soar and sing knowing that Guinevere had feelings for him, he loved feeling her body against his and wrapping his arms around her... he loved being with her, protecting her if she needed it. He loved her... simple as that.

Tristan loved her so much and so whole heartedly, that he was willing to ignore the signs of trouble that he felt foreboding. He went against his usual manner of dealing with problems outright and instead, hid them and forced himself to act like nothing was wrong, nothing out of place.

Tristan wondered how long he could ignore the overshadowing feeling pain and hurt that was looming in the air. It doesn't matter...

Disgusted with the idea of bad news, Tristan turned to look at Guinevere once more, admiring her peaceful aura she sent off while sleeping, and silently got out of bed. Slipping into breeches and long sleeve shirt, Tristan grabbed his jacket and put on his boots.

Walking over to his hawks' cage, he gently put a finger to his sleep, "Shh..." he whispered to his hawk. The hawk, as if understanding this simple gesture, remained quiet and gently while Tristan quietly got him out of his cage.

Placing the hawk on his arm, he quickly and silently slipped out of the bedroom, careful not to wake the sleeping Guinevere.

Pulling his jacket closer as he felt the cold winter air hit him, Tristan slowly trekked his way across the courtyard and into the welcoming of the cool and silent forest. Bringing his arm closer to his body to protect the hawk, Tristan glanced around him, making sure he wasn't followed, before he slipped completely into the dark and comforting forest.

Letting go of his tight stance, Tristan walked easily and briskly through the snow covered earth.

"You know me well, what do you think?" Tristan turned his head to look at his bird, half expecting an answer. The hawk stared back at him, tilting his head a bit in confusion.

"I really love her, that I know for certain..." Tristan paused and let out a bitter chuckle, "About all I'm sure about these days."

Tristan tried to quietly sneak back into his chamber, making at least noise as possible. Reaching for the door handle, he slowly turned it and opened the door. Immediately looking at the bed, he saw that the sheets were crumpled and the bed was empty.

Coming through the door, he closed it gently and looked around the room for Guinevere.

"I was getting a bit worried, you have been gone for an hour since I awoke... where did you head off to?" Tristan reeled around to see Guinevere standing by his wash basin and mirror, brushing her hair with his comb that he barely used.

Tristan stood silent for a moment, catching his breath like he always did when he saw her. Always struck by her beauty and "innocence", Tristan reached up to lay a hand over his heart, which sped up the moment he heard her voice.

Tristan swallowed and remembered he had a voice. "I went hunting."

After a few more brush strokes, Guinevere placed the comb back down on the desk and looked into her reflection. "I love when you go hunting," she paused to look at him through the mirror and smiled, "it makes me feel that you are providing for me."

Slouching against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, "I'm sorry, my lady, I brought nothing back with me."

Placing the last of her hair in place, Guinevere turned around and stalked toward him, "Oh well, there's always tomorrow, in fact..." she paused again as she reached Tristan and snaked her arms around his body, leaning her lower body into his, "you can have a whole week to provide for me." Guinevere looked up at him and smiled coyly.

Noticing the sparkle of mischief in her eyes, Tristan raised his eyebrow and tried to suppress his smile from growing. "And why do I have week to provide for you?"

"Because, he will be gone for a week."

Neither of them had to specify who the "he" was, they both knew and it would have made them both wince mentioning Arthurs' name.

"Now then," Guinevere continued smiling up at Tristan, "what will you provide for me?"

Tristan leaned down and slowly kissed Guinevere lips, taking his time to linger and hold on to her taste, "Whatever it is that you wish." He told her right before he devoured her mouth with his, forgetting the patience and gratitude he had shown just moments ago.

And just like that... their life together, providing for one another, loving one another, slowly began. Albeit brief, they formed a relationship that only they understood and only they were happy with.

Tristan forced himself to block out the inner voices within him telling him that you can't have your cake and eat it too, and made himself forget the problems that he felt overshadowing him. He felt himself relax and begin to enjoy life in a way that he never had before Guinevere entered his life, Tristan began realizing that life was not about pain, death, and war, he was finally beginning to understand that all he thought wrong with his life, was really just himself lying dormant waiting to be awakened.

Guinevere had awakened something in Tristan that he feared and yet was curious about. Tristan was scared of this new feeling he felt every morning these past few days when he woke up and saw Guinevere's slim naked body lying next to him, it made him feel... vulnerable. Vulnerability was a emotion he neither trusted or liked, but whenever he felt Guinevere huddle close to him after making love, he felt vulnerable... and Tristan was beginning to accustomed to and even care for.

Guinevere forgot about her problems with Arthur, they seemed to float to the back of her mind and whenever they wanted to resurface, she quickly drowned them by reminding herself that she loved Tristan. The sting of betraying her husband was almost gone, only coming back when she thought about the end of her week deadline. Guinevere was beginning to think that the sense of betrayal she had first felt was a mere last yelp from her conscience, telling her to be a proper wife, and not her heart yelling at her for being foolish.

Also, gone was the twinge of guilt she felt when she had not told Tristan of Arthur's discovery and was only replaced by a sense of duty to both her and Tristan, a duty stating she must do everything in her power to protect Tristan, just as he protects her. Guinevere felt she had the responsibility to hold on to their relationship as long as possible, feeling the need to preserve the giddiness and happiness she felt whenever she saw Tristan or the beautiful lovemaking they shared or the feeling she felt whenever Tristan hugged her close and told her he loved her. She knew she had to protect these wonderfully magic feelings and emotions.

"No, Tristan. I need a proper bath." Guinevere said, laughing and giggling, trying to loosen her body from Tristan's strong and protective grasp.

"You do get a proper bath." He kissed her hard on the lips and was in the process of loosening Guinevere's clothing once more when she moaned and hesitantly pulled away and began tightening up her dress.

"I do not get a proper bath when I have distracting things standing in my way from washing my hair!" She yelled jokingly, swiftly and skillfully dodging his soft lips.

"And what is so distracting may I ask?" Still trying to get a hold of her lips.

"Oh, you know, the little things... the hawk continually squawking, the small bathtub... your naked body." She said cheerfully.

"You love my body, you said so last night." Tristan stood there and said matter-of-factly.

"That I do, which is why it so distracting. Which is also why I must go back to my own room and bath properly... without you." She said, finality in her voice, and quickly left the room calling back to Tristan, "Don't worry! I still love you!"

Watching her leave, Tristan sighed and bit his lower lip, "Just as I love you."

"My Lady!" Brenna, Guinevere's maid, ran up to Guinevere as she walked through the door. "I did not know you were coming! You had told me that you would be staying elsewhere in the castle all week! Oh! Please, let me clean the room before you enter, it's a horrible mess! I was going to clean it today anyway because-because My Lord is coming home tomorrow!"

Guinevere looked around the room and noticed nothing out of the sort or misplaced; the room just as clean as Guinevere left it when she came to retrieve some of her clothes and to bring them to Tristans' room.

Guinevere sighed and shook her head as she watched Brenna dust off un-dusty furniture, sweep already clean floors, and made an already neat bed. "The cleaning is unnecessary, I only came to bathe, would you please draw me a bath?"

"Why, of course! Immediately!" Brenna rushed out of the room and Guinevere heard her yell to the other servants that her mistress would like a hot bath promptly.

Slightly chuckling to herself, Guinevere sighed and stretched her arms above her head. Looking around the room, she felt her queasy stomach return and her mind suddenly go dizzy. Reaching out a hand to balance herself, Guinevere quickly sat down on the bed, closed her eyes, and took slow deep breaths.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, Guinevere felt the nausea drift away and the dizziness clear up. Keeping her eyes closed, she felt herself beginning to sweat. It's this room! It reminds me of him.

Gently dabbing the back of her hand upon her forehead and cheek, she sighed and swallowed. Upon hearing Brenna's light footsteps, she stood up, relieved to feel the dizziness at bay, and went to undress.

"My lady?" Brenna asked Guinevere who was resting on the bed.

Guinevere immediately opened her eyes in surprise, she was not even aware she had fallen asleep. Turning her head to look at Brenna, she slowly sat up. "Is my bath ready?"

"Yes, my lady." Brenna said as she bowed.

"Thank you so much Brenna." Guinevere stood up and began walking toward the bath. Just as she was about to shed her robe, she stopped and turned. "Brenna?"

Brenna quickly popped her head back into the room, "Yes, my lady?"

"How long was I sleeping for?"

"Oh, just a few minutes."

"Mmm... thank you Brenna."

"My lady." Brenna quickly bowed again and swiftly left the room, leaving Guinevere alone in privacy.

Guinevere slowly stripped her robe and stepped into the bath tub, letting the heat ease her weary bones. Refusing to think about the last bath she had in the tub, Guinevere decided to focus her concentration on hot water soothing her muscles and cleaning her body. Guinevere laid her head back and closed her eyes, feigning the drowsiness that beginning to overcome her again.

Tristan was not a jealous man, nor was he an overprotective one... but he was a worrisome lover

It's been too long! How long does it take for her to bathe? Perhaps she got into some trouble? Before Tristan could talk himself out of his paranoia, he was already out the door and in search of Guinevere, praying to the Gods that she was safe.

He walked across the courtyard and up the stairs leading to Guinevere and Arthur's bedroom. Subconsciously creeping quietly, he walked slowly to the bedroom door and released a large breath of relief when he was the room alight and heard the sound of water being splashed around a bit.

Cursing himself for his worried nature, he turned his back to leave but then saw Guinevere's hand maid, Brenna, walking towards the bedroom door with small pieces of towel in arms. Using his expert skill, Tristan quickly slipped into the shadows and watched and listened.

"Here we go, My lady Guinevere." Brenna entered the room and smiled cheerfully at Guinevere, "I thought you would need these, in fact, I'm surprised that you did not come sooner for these."

Guinevere sat up a bit and looked to see what Brenna had brought her. Seeing the small rags in her hands, Guinevere gave Brenna a puzzled look.

Upon noticing Guinevere's expression, Brenna smiled and laughed. "Why, my lady! They are for your monthly cycle! You started last week, remember? I thought you might come to me last week, but I guess you already had some rags. Now I'll leave them..."

Brenna's voice faded away as Guinevere felt her body freeze. She saw her hands still and not move, she felt her heart hold its' beats, she felt her eyes go wide and alert. My monthly cycle. Yes...of course. Guinevere sat there, staring mindlessly into space.

"My lady? Are you all right? You look as pale as a ghost!"

Brenna's voice snapped movement back into Guinevere's stilled body and brought her back to reality. "Umm... yes." Guinevere spoke slowly, trying to grasp the situation. "Brenna?" Guinevere looked back to Brenna, "Hand me my robe!" Guinevere immediately stood up and rushed over to Brenna and then to her desk.

Quickly and carelessly flipping through books and shelves, she pulled out a thick notebook and immediately flipped it open. It's his...

The knock on Tristan's door had him up and opening the door in seconds. Flinging the door open, he stood there momentarily watching Guinevere watch him.

"Hello Tristan." She said softly, a soft look upon her face.

"Hello my princess." Tristan murmured.

Tristan didn't have to think for a second; he scooped Guinevere into his arms. Grabbing her and bringing her close into him, Tristan inhaled the scent of flowers as he sniffed Guinevere's hair. Tristan closed his eyes and let all of his four other senses enclose Guinevere, there never seemed to be enough of her.

"Did you miss me then?" Guinevere whispered as she nestled closer to his body.

"So much." Tristan replied before burying his mouth into her neck, licking and kissing every inch of it.

"You need not worry, my love... I'm not going anywhere. I'm never going to leave you." She whispered softly and delicately into his ear.

Tristan closed his eyes, and felt his heart tighten and his pulse quicken. Taking a deep breath and letting it out raggedly, he slowly set her on her feet and pulled away slightly to look into her eyes. I could die looking into those eyes.

"How was your bath?"

Laughing out loud, she shook her head, "Fine, thank you. I greatly enjoyed it."

"My princess should only enjoy the best."

Enclosing her hand in his, he brought her to the bed and sat her down. Kneeling down to his knees, he came eye level to Guinevere and gazed lovingly into her deep eyes.

"Guinevere?" He asked, finally breaking the gaze and looking down to the floor.

"Yes, my darling?"

Tristan took a deep clearing breath and slowly let it out and looked back up to her, she looks so magnificent.

"Words cannot express, not even come close to, describing how I feel about you... how much I love you. When I try to think of the words that try to explain my heart's endless supply of love for you... I am at a loss, nothing can come even remotely close to showing it. I feel like a daft schoolboy who knows nothing from nothing except this... I love you. These three words seem so simple and inadequate for my feelings for you, they are so docile and... plain, when what I feel for you cannot even measure up to that. No one and no thing could ever make me think twice about how I much I love you, ever." Tristan paused to laugh a bit. "When I try to think of other things to say about you, I find myself speechless and when I do find words, they seem meager and insufficient."

Guinevere said nothing. Absolutely nothing. She couldn't. She could not find her voice, her throat was dry. All that she thought of was Tristan and how her feelings for him multiplied ten times, nay, one hundred times... a thousand times. She closed her eyes and felt the stinging of tears starting to come forward, but she refused to cry and it was that thought that forced her to speak. "Try and see if you can say them..." Guinevere voice died, it took all her energy to speak for fear that she would break down and begin to sob uncontrollably.

Tristan blinked once, twice. He bit his lower lip again, trying to steady his racing heart and keep the butterflies in his stomach calm.

"Okay... I love..." Tristan licked his lips and tried to keep his mind focused, "I love the way your skin tastes after we make love, salty and sweet at the same time, like honey and lemons combined together; I love that your soft and caressing lips always have the flavor of sweet strawberries at their ripest time in season. It intoxicates my mind whenever I get a breeze of your scent, your hair always seems to smell of jasmine and juniper, and your skin smells of fresh rain after a storm, clear and invigorating. Whenever I see your radiant and graceful face, I feel my heart leap and jump with awe and amazement that I must stop myself from dancing with joy; when I look upon your splendid body, I find it hard that the Gods could ever make such a beautiful woman, and then I remember myself... you are not a woman... but an angel from another place. Every time I look into your eyes, I feel more and more of my life and heart drift into them, I become so easily astray and it's difficult to come back to this world. And, if even for a moment, my hand brushes over any part of your body, I shiver with delight and must control myself or I will lose control. Sometimes I fear touching your creamy skin in fear that my rough fingers will bruise and tarnish it. And lastly, when I hear your harmonious and musical voice, I must remind myself that it is not Mother Earth speaking to me, but a bewitching sprite but more importantly, I must tell myself that it is me, a lowly man, that you are calling."

Tristan stopped talking and looked down to the floor again, he felt his face flush and body heat rise.

"My lady Guinevere, I have tried my hardest to express in words all that you mean to me and I fear that I have still failed, but allow me to say this one last comment..." he looked back up at her again, "you have changed my life. All that I have said about you and all that you mean to me has lead to one simple conclusion ...you have changed my life beyond my own imagination or belief. Before you entered my life, I felt that my only duty in life was to fight... it was all I knew, but then you appeared and everything transformed into something new... something amazing. I now know that my life is not about war and battles, the gloominess and solitude that always hovered over me has disappeared and is replaced by feelings of completeness and understanding. You have awoken me to a part of my life that I would have never discovered if I had not met you and for that, for that... I owe you everything and anything."

Guinevere had given up trying to wipe away the hot tears that streamed down her face and instead let them flow freely and openly, just as her love for Tristan is. Finding senses in her body once more, she slowly reached out a hand to caress Tristan's rough stubble, she rubbed her thumb over his lips and whispered through her hoarse voice, "You have already given me everything I need to be happy in life...your heart."

The moment had come, Tristan denied it no longer.

"No, my love. I have not given you what you need and yearn in life most and I know I will never be able to."

Guinevere's soft caress immediately halted, wide-eyed and lips trembling, she stared at Tristan. "What can I want that you cannot possibly give?" Her voice was cracking and uneven.

"A unified and peaceful Britain." Tristan paused and put his hand over Guinevere's. "I can never give that to you and I know that this is the one thing you yearn for most in your life... it is why you fought on Badon Hill, it is why you did not return to your people, it why you married Arthur," Tristan winced at the mention of his commander's name, "it is why you still love Arthur and-"

"No." Guinevere stopped Tristan before he could utter another word. "No, you're wrong, you're wrong! I don't love Arthur, I love you... I love only you!" Guinevere stood up, tearing her hand away from Tristans cheek and hold. She walked a few feet away and turned her back to Tristan. "Why are you doing this?" She asked, tears filling her voice and eyes.

"Because I cannot be selfish any more. I have held on to you for too long. Guinevere... I can no longer keep you. You belong to-"

"I don't belong to him! I don't!" She quickly spun around, hard tears flowing one after the other, and yelled at Tristan, "I don't belong to Arthur!"

Tristan was silent for a moment. "You're right," he finally said at last, "You don't belong to Arthur... you don't belong to me either. You belong to this country, to Britain."

Lips still trembling, Guinevere violently shook her head, "No! No! No! I don't want it anymore! I don't want Britain anymore! I want you!" She flung herself at Tristan, sobbing in his arms.

He no longer ignored the warning signs that flashed through his mind, Tristan realized that one cannot ignore the inevitable, it was impossible. The best that one can do is accept it and work with it, and that's exactly what Tristan was doing.

"I remember, three years ago, a weak and stubborn young woman who was found in a dungeon. I remember a brave and kind commander found her there and rescued her. She, in return, fell in love with him... and he fell in love with her. I also remember this young woman telling this commander that she was born in the land they were fighting in and was honored to be British... she was proud to belong to this land... her land.. She loved Britain and longed to see this land united, under one rule and would have done anything for it. She would have given her life to this cause, and she nearly did." Tristan was now gently stroking Guinevere's hair, trying to calm her down. "Do you remember this young woman Guinevere?"

Guinevere's eyes had dried a bit but she remained still. Nodding her head slightly against Tristan's chest, she said, "Yes, yes I do."

"Does this young woman still exist?"

"Yes..." Guinevere slowly backed away, she nodded her head a bit, "I think so." She turned away from Tristan and walked toward the window, the full moon shining through the dark clouds illuminated Guinevere's face.

"She does exist still. I still yearn to see a peaceful Britain under one rule." Guinevere's voice was calm and quiet.

"As do I." Tristan watched Guinevere, "This dream is still possible... Britain can still be together."

"And what if I give it up? Everything. My crown, Arthur... Britain?"

Tristan shook his head and slowly walked over to Guinevere, he wrapped his arms around her stomach from behind and leaned his chin onto her shoulder. "Do you really want to?"

The question stung Guinevere and she closed her eyes and felt tears sting her eyes once more. Hesitantly shaking her head, she felt the tears come down harder, "No... I don't want to. I can't." Her voice breaking and studdering, she began to shake uncontrollably.

"Remember the day in the forest? When you followed me? Do you remember what I told you after you kissed me?"

Guinevere was still shaking and trying hard to breathe. Her mind flashed back to the night she followed Tristan, 'it is your fate to be with Arthur and unite Britain'. "You said I must stay with Arthur." She barely managed to squeak out.

"Yes. I told you that we were not meant to be together and that stands true still today. Arthur can and will bring Britain together as one and you must be there with him. He loves you and I know you love him. I cannot have you to myself anymore. It is not fair to you, Arthur, or Britain."

"But I'm not ready to give you up."

"Nor am I, but we must. For the sake of Britain... for the sake of Arthur's unborn child." Tristan placed both his hands over Guinevere's belly."

At this, Guinevere turned around to face Tristan. Her face wide with worry and surprise. "How do you know it is not yours?"

Tristan gave a bitter smile, "I have my ways."

He was right, Guinevere had laid with Arthur before Tristan, she had missed her monthly cycle and it was before she made love to Tristan.

"This child," Tristan placed her hand on her own belly, "is the future of Britain."

Guinevere flung her arms around Tristan. She pulled him to her and held on tight. She squeezed Tristan to gather all the love he had for her and return it to him tenfold by her. She detached herself momentarily to capture his lips with hers.

Tristan was amazed. After tasting her lips hundreds of times, this kiss felt... pure, magical in a way, just as Guinevere's first kiss with him had been. Tristan held on tighter and stronger than he had ever before, he knew this was it... the last time he would ever feel these soft lips upon his; the last time Guinevere would ever be able to hold on to Tristans' broad and protective shoulders. The last time they would ever say I love you.

The bittersweetness of the moment made them hold on tighter and longer, both never wanting to leave each other. They knew this was the end... Guinevere would return to Arthur and give birth to the future heir and success of Britain, Tristan would continue to serve under his king and would continue to watch over Guinevere in private.

The only difference between what would happen now as opposed to what had happened a few weeks ago is simple... no matter how much Guinevere loved Britain, she would always love Tristan, and no matter how much Tristan would stay at a distance from Guinevere, he would always be within her grasp and call.

Knowing this, Tristan let his eyes water and didn't wipe away the grievous tears that fell candidly. He wanted to remember this moment... he wanted to know that he was crying tears for heartbreak... and joy; joy that they both would see the beginning of new and allied Britain.

END

Movie line from "Solomon and Gaenor"
I hoped you guys enjoyed this, sorry if it was complete rubbish.