DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, so please don't sue ...I make no money with this!
NOTES: Hehehe .....Thanks for the reviews! I am aware that Guinevere indeed is a schemer, but she's not very good with hiding her emotions....which is what I wanted to say!
I hope you still enjoy this, cause I love writing it!
COMMON GROUND
"You told me your sister was dead...." Lancelot said after they had all left the room one after another, leaving only Arthur and Lancelot behind. It was as though they had all felt Arthur's need to spend some time alone with the best friend he had come so close to loosing forever. They had all picked up on it all too clearly, even Guinevere had known that this was not the time to stand between those two. So she had followed the knights, kissing Arthur softly on the lips before departing. Lancelot's face gave nothing away as he watched their parting.
Now his eyes were all for Arthur, his scrutinizing gaze fixed upon his friend's face.
"I was deceived on that account ...."
"Or so it seems...." Lancelot returned his voice bland. Arthur had always been too trusting; too willing to believe in the good of every man and woman he met. It had always struck Lancelot as an odd quality in a warrior such as Arthur, and sometimes .....Like now....it worried him.
"She is not a decoy the woads used to lure me into compliance with their plans, if that is what you mean to warn me about." Arthur said quietly.
The thought of loosing Lancelot had scared Arthur more than the thought of loosing his own life. Just talking to his friend like this reminded him why that was .....The trust, the way he looked out for the safety and welfare of his friends even if the knight liked to pretend he did not care about anything at all. He was wounded and had just survived a killing blow and yet, he was ready again to cover Arthur's back.
"So you thought about it?"
"Of course I have thought about it!" Arthur said, half laughing now. The relief of having his friend reprimanding him again was like a weight falling from his heart. He had spoken true, when he had told Morgianna that he looked to Lancelot like a brother. He loved all his knights greatly. As a commander he felt it was his duty to keep them from harm, as ridiculous as that might seem, but Lancelot had always held a special place in his heart. He had always counted on him to speak his mind and keep him honest, without him he would feel lost, Arthur knew that.
"When I first met her, I thought she was a lure, but ....." Arthur looked at his friend as though searching Lancelot's face would help him find the right words to express what he felt.
"....she knows things only Morgianna would know. When I look at her, I feel this tie....between us and I can almost see the girl I used to know in the woman that has returned to me, almost ....." Arthur hesitated, thinking about the choice Morgianna had forced him to make.
"I did not want to trust her, but she has not deceived me thus far, Lancelot. She has been nothing but honest and kind and generous ....and she saved your life."
Lancelot held Arthur's gaze for a moment, the looked down at his hands. She was more than just Arthur's sister and from the way his friend looked at him, he could tell that Arthur was well aware of that. There was no need to breach the subject now.
"You are glad to have her back." Lancelot stated soberly. There was no need to question that either. He could tell just by watching his friend's face; underneath the controlled, serious expression which usually set the lines of Arthur's face, lingered a fine thread of delight and pride.
He looked as though he might think about it; listen to some inner voice before answering the question. Finally he nodded sombrely, but with a quick, mystified smile.
"Yes."
"I did not mean to...."
"I know you didn't." Arthur interrupted him. "I do not fault you for your suspicions, we all shared them ....but ....having her here, with me....it...," He stopped, searching for the right words again. "Her presence soothes me. And when she smiles ......I feel like a little boy again."
"I have yet to see that smile....She seems rather plain und serious to me, my friend."
Arthur laughed. "Morgianna appears to be calm and rather grave, but there is a magic in that smile....." he alleged only half joking. He looked at Lancelot for a silent moment.
"Even from your sickbed you are watching out for me."
Lancelot chuckled, shaking his head tiredly.
"Somebody needs to .....Who knows what you might do otherwise!"
They both laughed, but Arthur could see the pain the other man was trying to ignore, the physical strain this conversation was putting on his knight.
"You need to rest, my friend." He said quietly, putting one hand on Lancelot's shoulder.
"Rest now, we will talk in the morrow."
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It was the sound of water being pored into a cauldron that awoke him. Wincing slightly, Lancelot turned on his side to watch the room behind lowered eyelids. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dim lighting so that the flickering light of the fire did not confuse his vision. He could make out to frames moving in front of the fire, two women working side by side in silence. One was Arthur's mysterious sister, adding herbs and what seemed to be vegetables into the water before returning the cauldron back to its place above the fire.
Her hair was darker than night itself, almost being swallowed by the stirring shadows in the room. As though she had felt his gaze upon her, Morgianna´s eyes fixed on him for a heartbeat. Then she looked away, to Guinevere who was still holding the empty water bucket in one hand, while brushing honey coloured strands of hair from her face with the other.
"He has decided, I thought it would please you Morgianna ....." she said softly, so as not to disturb him.
Arthur's sister straightened; rising to her full height she was taller than Guinevere.
"Does it please you?" she asked, watching the younger woman carefully.
Guinevere narrowed her eyes, hugging the bucket to her chest, keeping it between her and Morgianna as though it could serve as a line of defence.
"Why ever would it not? It was what we all hoped for, wished for ....and now the day has come!" she answered almost defensively.
Seeing them standing opposite to one another, Lancelot could not help but notice the remarkable contrast between them the two women.
Guinevere was the smaller one of them, though pale when they had rescued her from the dungeon, her skin had taken on a faint, golden tan from the time she spent in the sun. It suited her and brought out the colour in her eyes and hair. She was the younger ..... springtime, golden and light like rays of the sun, honey and milk...everything Arthur's sister was not.
Morgianna was just the opposite, pale and silent as the moon. With the dark hair, her unreadable expression and eyes so brown that they seemed black at times, she seemed almost wraith like. She was shadow, moon and stars.....the soul of witchery.
"And it will make you queen." Morgianna stated. "Or has he not asked you yet?"
Guinevere swallowed hard, her facial expression torn between confusion and irritation.
"I think you know the answer to that question."
"Then go to him, it is where you should be ....at his side."
"If I did not know you better, I would think that it bothers you.....should you not be in high spirits? Should you not be proud that your brother will be king? "
Right then it was as though something went through Arthur's sister. She did not move, but seemed frozen for a moment, her face filling with some inconceivable emotion and a tension building in her slender body. She measured Guinevere with a regal look.
"Do not presume to know me." She said icily.
Guinevere gasped, stepping backwards before she could stop herself. Realizing what she had done, she threw the taller woman a defiantly look.
"Nobody knows you, Morgianna." She whispered, leaving the room hastily.
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"It seems I owe you my life...." Lancelot said after a while, sitting up in bed as though he had just awakened and not witnessed their confrontation. The look she gave him told Lancelot, that she was not fooled by his attempt. She had indeed known he was watching them, but had made no effort to move the conversation outside or hush Guinevere.
"You owe me nothing.....I will not say this again."
She filled a cup with water, holding it out to him. Looking at her with curiosity he took the cup from her hands, but cringed as the sudden movement sent a sharp pain through him.
Morgianna sat down on the bed, helping him lean against the wall to support his back when sitting. Her fingers were warm and sure, probing the wound carefully.
"Try not to move around quite so much for another two days. The bolt went through your side; I could not break it due to the barbs the Saxons use. I had to push it out on the other side."
Lancelot made a face.
"It is not my way to lie around like a useless ...."
"You will heal but it takes time and patience." Morgianna interrupted him evenly.
"Something I see you have not much experience with." She looked into his handsome face, noticing the stubble growing on his cheeks. It was still a handsome face. Almost against her will she laid one hand to his cheek, looking at him seriously.
"The sooner you listen and endure the boredom of spending two days abed, the sooner you will be back on your feet and at my brother's side. He will have need of you."
She gracefully rose to her feet, before Lancelot could find an answer or ponder her behaviour. Morgianna walked over to the cauldron, stirring the broth.
In his bed Lancelot emptied the cup, watching her. He could not help but think about the exchange of words he had witnessed. His eyes went to the door .....through which Guinevere had disappeared.
"Down this path lies only heartache and grief for you and many others. That is the only warning I can give you. I do not give it lightly, so you would be wise to heed my words."
His head turned to her. Lancelot stared at her with a stony expression.
"I do not know what you speak of."
Morgianna turned away from the fire, gazing at him silently for a moment. She could feel her chest growing tighter with every breath.
"You would have died for her." She whispered and for once her voice held all the emotion she held so firmly under control. It filled her voice and her eyes, just like she had filled his cup. She felt the anger rise, making her throat tight; angry with him, angry with herself for caring what he gave his life for ....angry at herself for knowing.....
"You would have given your life, every breath ...to save her. Do not deny it to me, there is no need for lies between us here and now, Lancelot. I am not a coy maid. I know men, the way they look upon what they covet. You would have died ....and for what?"
His face set in an amused, non- committal expression, Lancelot answered her level gaze with his.
"He might be your brother, but Arthur is also my friend. Do you think you are the only one who would do certain things, make sacrifices on his account?" he asked. On the outside he seemed so very calm and collected; Morgianna could almost see the wall he used to hide behind.
"You would have died that day, and for what? To save the woman that has stolen your best friend's heart?" Morgianna said simply, watching his face. She could feel a wave of quiet and tranquillity wash over her as she regained control over her emotions. Smoothing them out like a gentle hand in her mind until they became as clear and calm as a frozen lake in winter.
"I think you deceive yourself, Sir knight."
There was a slight tightening in his jaw line that spoke of his anger and frustration. His eyes were ablaze with something close to revulsion, but Morgianna could tell that it was not really directed at her. It was meant for himself, he was just as angry and aggravated with himself as she was......The realization of what he felt and what that could mean had wounded him more than the Saxons ever could. Just by feeling what was in his heart, he already felt as though he was betraying Arthur. He never wanted to feel like that.
"You think to know me? You think you can see through, just like that?" he inquired after a while, his voice cool and suppressed. "Why would you think that by knowing one man's heart you know us all?"
"I do not know the heart of every man, but I know love."
Lancelot chortled; it was a sound so bitter that Morgianna could almost taste it on her tongue.
"So you speak from experience, my lady?"
Morgianna shook her head, giving him a sad smile that astounded him. For a moment, even in that sadness the smile held, Lancelot could catch a glimpse of what Arthur had been talking about.
"I do not love like that."
"Would you not die for your brother?"
Morgianna looked at him for the longest time, until the silence grew heavy around them. When she answered her voice was full of anguish, not even a whisper, merely a breath full of regret and sorrow.
"I would kill for him."
Lancelot held her dark, knowing gaze and nodded slowly. Just like that ....something had shifted between them, and the knight found himself on common ground with the witch.
"In times like these, maybe that is worth even more ...."
