If this love is a dark abyssThen gladly shall I fall into it, filled with bliss...
It felt like a déjà vu of her fourteenth birthday. Guinevere, standing outside of her father study looking for her brother. But instead of fourteen Guinevere was now nineteen. A fully grown woman who just celebrate her coming of age. What she found was not another argument between her father and brother like the last time, instead there was blood.
Through the wide open door Guinevere saw blood pooling on the floor and at the center of it, the lifeless body of her father. His green eyes were wide open, his expression froze in perpetual distress as if the time had stop ticking. Her brother was kneeling by their father's side with his head hanged down.
"Brother..." Guinevere stepped into the room. The only source of light was the full moon that shone through the huge balcony window but it was enough for her to see the disarranged state of the room. Overturned was the chaise lounge and she could see her mother's rose scattered on the floor its vase in pieces. She had yet fully registered what has happened but the tangy iron smell of blood that permeated the very air told her she was not dreaming.
"Don't come here, Guin." Gone was his usual cavalier tone. Lancelot sound defeated.
"What has happened brother?" She took another step closer but stop at her brother's harsh tone. "Don't come any closer!" Never ever have her brother raise his voice toward her. Guinevere was hurt by the rejection in his tone. "I don't want you to see me like this." Lancelot sounded so broken Guinevere hurts for him.
She would never turn her back from this man, not in her life, not even when she was afraid of more rejection from him. Guinevere resolutely walked closer and dropped on her knees beside him. He recoiled when she tried to cradle his face with both of her hands but she does not relent. She would show him that she could be his strength in his moment of weakness.
"I told you—"
Guinevere silence him with a kiss. He met her kiss with a ferocity that was like a man dying from thirst who just found an oasis. Guinevere did not understand how a simple act of touching lips could ignite her bones so, but she did not let her thoughts confined her from savoring the moment. It was after all, their very first kiss.
When they parted he move to rest his head on her shoulder and whispered brokenly. "I killed father." As if with his soft tone he could make everything stay secret. Maybe she should be appalled by his action or she should be scared of what he could do to her but Guinevere felt none of those. She pulled away to met his eyes.
Tinted with despair his handsome visage did not diminished even one bit. Lancelot's pale and porcelain like skin was smudge with blood, on his cheek bone, at the corner of his lips. His usually glittering green eyes looked lost but the passion inside it never really dimmed. The world would be disgusted to know that after learning what he has done, the only feeling she could felt was an all-encompassing love she always felt for him. Guinevere love this beautiful man, her own brother. "I know and I love you all the same."
Her brother shake his head. "No Guin, you don't understand! I killed our father! I.. I lost my mind when he told me that my feelings for you were wrong! He told me he would marry you off! He said, me... Loving you, is a sin... But—"
"Shh—" Guinevere tried to soothe him but Lancelot kept on rambling.
"I killed my own father for saying the truth... These hands.. They are covered in sins Guinevere..! I would tainted you with my touch but.. I don't know how to let you go..." He showed her his blood stained hands and stare at it as if he hates its very existence.
"Hush brother." Guinevere silence him from speaking further with a finger on his lips. "Talk no more... Every single part of you..." She bring his bloody hand closer to her lips and place a soft kiss on the tip of his bloodied fingers. "Is everything I ever needed and I won't let you believe otherwise." She kissed her forehead next. Just like how he used to kiss her when they were little to assure her that everything was going to be okay.
"DEAR!!!" Their mother's scream broke them apart. "Lancelot! What have you done to your father?!" Lady Baroque rushed into the room to kneel beside the lifeless body of her husband.
"Darling, darling... Oh god!" Guinevere watched in silence as her mother try to wake father, shaking his body, cradling his cheeks.
Her mother was a beautiful woman, a noble from the top of her head to the very tip of her toe who always concerned with proper decorum and dressing appropriately. At the moment she seemed to care for none of those. Her white night-gown turned deep crimson in places from her husband's blood as she kneeled by his side, her platinum locks in disarray, her ocean eyes shines with unshed tears of desperation. Guinevere found herself thinking that she was still beautiful in her state of mess.
"Guinevere go get help! Hurry!" Mother was too overwhelmed to realize that the man she loved was beyond help.
It was a simple decision for Guinevere. She reached for her brother sword on the floor.
Guinevere heard her mother's soft gasp as the sword in her hand pierced through her chest. "Guin..eve..re.." To die with the very same blade that killed her husband, Guinevere had given the poor woman a mercy. What was the point living in the world without your beloved?
You are welcome mother.
Guinevere turned to smile at her brother. "We are the same now, dear brother."