I forgot to say this in the last chapter, so I'll do it now. I want to give a big "holla" to all y'all who have reviewed so far. One hundred reviews baby! You guys rock!

Chapter Thirteen

Guinevere stood close to the fire, her face burning from the heat. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, relishing the acrid scent of smoke. She raised one of her slim hands to her stomach, a secretive smile spreading across her lips. Arthur didn't know yet, but, in time, Guinevere would tell him. And he would be so happy. Her smile broadened at the thought of being able to give the man that she loved with all her heart a child.

Her grin turned impish as she thought of the actions that had brought about her pregnancy.

Arthur's ferocious strength on the battle field carried easily to the bed. He could switch from a gentle lover to a powerful man driven by his passions in an instant. Their bed was never dull, nor silent most nights.

As if her thoughts had called him to her, Arthur's arms wrapped around his wife's small waist and he pulled her against his chest.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the firelight?" He whispered in her ear. Guinevere tilted her head so that she could look up at him.

"No, my lord, I don't believe you have." She placed a soft kiss on his jaw, a kiss that traveled down Arthur's neck to the base of his throat. Arthur moaned softly, prompting Guinevere to continue in her slow and seductive torture.

She sucked on his skin, tasting him with her tongue and arousing both their passions. Arthur's arms tightened around Guinevere and he drew her tight against him, leaving not even a breath of air between their bodies.

He ducked his head and caught her lips in a feverish kiss. A kiss which Guinevere gladly returned.

> > > > >

Sparks flew out from the fire and caught on the breeze which blew them up towards the heavens. Around the fire sat people engaged in drinking and merrymaking.

From his seat on one of the logs brought in to serve as benches, Galahad could see Bors and his mistress locked in an embrace while their children played a game of tag nearby. He could hear the bawdy laughter of those who were already drunk, even though the fire had only been lit not even an hour ago.

He sighed and took a long drag of his ale. Tonight was supposed to be a night of fun and laughter. But Galahad did not feel much like celebrating.

It had been three months since he last saw Juliana, and every bone in his body ached to see her again, to touch her skin and to kiss her mouth.

Zephaniah flounced down on the log next to him, her lips immediately moving to his neck, where she kissed him slowly and seductively. Galahad ignored her. Her touch did nothing for him other than make him feel ill.

Her hand traced the muscles beneath his tunic and her lips moved to his. Galahad allowed her to kiss him. He was too tired to push her away.

"What say we find somewhere dark." She whispered in his ear, her voice husky with want and need.

Galahad shook his head. "Not tonight."

"Now don't be like that, Galahad." She purred. "Tonight is a night for fun. Don't you want to have fun with me?" Her lips grazed his ear and her hands moved lower down his body. He shook her off and stood.

"I said, not tonight." He growled, clutching his ale tankard with a trembling fist. Zephaniah's eyes darkened and the fire reflected within their depths.

"Fine." She huffed. "I can find another man. A man that's better than you."

"Go then," he snapped, "because I don't want you."

The anger fled her eyes for a second, replaced by hurt and sadness. But then it returned swiftly and she marched past him in a huff.

Furious at nothing and everything, Galahad threw down his tankard and stalked off into the dark fields. He needed to get away from the crowd, to find space and air so that he could clear his head.

> > > > >

The silence of the night dissipated the closer that Juliana got to the festival. She could hear the drunken laughter and the cries of pleasure that came out of the shadows. She tread warily, careful not to stumble upon a couple in the midst of their passion.

The fire burned bright in her eyes as she neared it. She remained just out of its light, careful not to let anyone see her.

Figures danced around the flames; women, their brows crowned by rings of flowers, flitted about the fire like fairies. Fairies that enticed men to evil and lustful thoughts and actions. Their smiles and laughter were contagious to all- even Juliana felt herself relaxing as she became entranced by their dizzying dance.

She watched, transfixed as one by one the women left the ring of dancers to join a man and enjoy the pleasures that their gods gave them. Couples left the firelight, in search of a more private area, to hoots of encouragement from their friends.

Children ran about the fire, playing tag and laughing happily as they wove in and out of the crowd. Juliana blushed at the thought of what these children would see before the night was out.

Time passed and Juliana knew not how long she had been there, crouched behind a log watching the festival. All she knew, was that her legs were beginning to ache and her eyes were starting to droop. But, despite her body and mind's call for sleep, Juliana found herself unable to move from that spot.

From her vantage point, Juliana could see a couple arguing. Their faces were in shadow, but she could clearly see that the woman was pressing herself upon the man while he resisted her actions. The woman stormed away. The man stood in place for a moment before walking in the opposite direction. He staggered slightly as he walked, obviously drunk. It wasn't until too late that Juliana realized he was walking towards her. She would have fled, but he was too close to the log now for her to get safely away. Even drunk, Juliana knew this man could easily over power her should he wish to. So, she remained low to the ground, praying fervently that God would keep her hidden.

> > > > >

Galahad must have been more drunk than he thought. What other way could he explain the fact that he just saw Juliana's red hair poking overtop a log. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, but when he looked again the hair- so red that it looked like a flame on top the wood- was there.

Slowly, Galahad approached and looked over top of the log. And there was Juliana, head bowed and eyes screwed shut as her mouth formed silent words.

"Juliana." Her name left his lips before he could stop himself from speaking. Juliana's eyes flew open and widened as they took in his face. Her lips parted and her breathing came in quick, harsh gasps.

"Please," her voice was a frightened whisper, "please don't come any closer."

But Galahad's body would not obey her words. He went around to the other side of the log and stooped down so that he was face to face with Juliana. In the dark he could see her chin quiver as her eyes met his.

Galahad wanted to reassure her, to tell her that he would not harm her. He wanted to confess his feelings to her. But the words would not come to his lips. They became lodged between his brain and his mouth and would not be spoken. So he searched his mind for something, anything, to say.

"You have been avoiding me." He mentally smacked himself. Here he was trying to tell her the truth of his feelings and instead he says something stupid.

"I…," obviously she knew not how to respond. "I've been kept busy." She muttered, her eyes lowering to the ground.

Galahad placed a hand beneath her chin and forced her eyes back up to his. He could not bare for her to look away. He needed to look into her eyes, to see their beauty.

"We have not been able to talk-"

"We have nothing to talk about." Juliana interrupted him, shaking her head in denial. She clearly didn't want to speak about that day, the day that Galahad could not rid his mind of.

"Yes," he replied firmly yet gently, "we do."

With the firelight framing her face, Galahad found himself being drawn in to Juliana's beauty. His mind was slipping away from him and he was, instead, driven by the desire he had felt for her since he'd first laid eyes on her innocent face.

His hand traveled from her chin, gently caressing her neck and the base of her throat. Her skin was like silk beneath this roughened fingers. His fingers untied the bow that kept her cloak covering her and the heavy material fell away from her shoulders easily. It was then that he noticed she wore only her underclothes- indeed it was the very same shift that she had been wearing when first they'd met all those nights ago in the garden. Galahad felt his pulse quicken as he took in her pale shoulders and arms. His eyes lingered too long on the place where the lace of her shift met the top of her breasts. Beneath his hand, Juliana's skin grew hot and her face turned red under his appraisal.

Galahad could not deny any longer the want that he had for Juliana. No, it was not want, but need. Need for her body against his. Need for her to love him and to want to be with him. Need to be around her.

He moved so that his knees were resting on the damp earth. His other hand moved to cup Juliana's cheek. She was so soft, so smooth. Her eyes widened as he moved closer, ducking his head so that his lips could brush against hers. He didn't kiss her, but only allowed their lips to touch for the briefest of seconds. He wanted to tease her, to make her feel the same need that he had. Galahad wanted her to be the one to kiss him. It was the only way that he could know how she truly felt about him, for the words, he knew, would never leave her mouth.

> > > > >

Juliana's pulse was racing as Galahad's lips moved to her jaw. His lips brushed against her skin, never fully touching, but simply grazing her heated skin in a way that was sure to drive her mad. A tingling sensation filled the pit of her stomach and Juliana knew that she would soon lose control, just as she had the last time that Galahad had kissed her.

He kissed her chin and her nose, then moved down her neck; his kisses heating her skin until Juliana felt almost feverish. His lips brushed her shoulders, and he sucked on the skin before pulling away and moving to her throat.

Juliana's head was tilted back, leaving her ivory skin exposed to Galahad's mouth. Her lips were parted and she breathed harshly, fighting for air as the stars above her danced. She had never known feelings like this. Feelings that could drive her to forget her vows- for she had forgotten that she was a nun- and make her forget that she had made a promise to remain chaste. At that moment, all she could think about was the feel of his lips on her skin and how she wanted more.

The kisses moved back to her jaw, but Juliana did not want them there. If she was to get what she wanted, then she knew she would have to take the lead. Quickly, she took Galahad's face in her hands and drew his mouth to her own. There, their lips and tongues met. Juliana felt like she was starving and the only thing that could fulfill her hunger was Galahad's kiss. And so she pulled him close to her, until their bodies were pressed flush against each other and there was no space between them. Her fingers wrapped around his dark curls, making sure that his lips were pressed as tightly against hers as they could be. Galahad's own hands tangled within Juliana's hair before moving down to explore her body.

A gasp escaped her lips as Galahad's hand moved over the top of her chest and then moved to cup her breast. She moaned into his kiss and arched her back, wanting more of his touch. Galahad delightfully obliged.

His lips left hers, causing Juliana to moan in protest, but her moans were quickly replaced by gasps of pleasure as he sucked on the delicate skin at the base of her throat.

Juliana was faintly aware of Galahad pushing the strap of her shift off her shoulder. Her back made contact with the cool ground and she felt Galahad's weight rest easily on top of her.

Unaware of her own actions, but fully aware that she needed more contact with his body, Juliana slid her hands down Galahad's back and pressed herself up against him. She felt his arousal press into her thigh, but she was too overcome by her own lust to be embarrassed.

Galahad stopped his kisses and peered down at Juliana. She could see the storm of emotions that played across his handsome face and felt her heart go out to him. She reached up with a trembling hand and gently caressed his cheek. Galahad's eyes closed as he let himself cherish her touch. When his eyes again opened the love that showed within their depths robbed Juliana of her very breath.

"I love you." Galahad whispered.

Juliana stared at him, wide-eyed. How did she respond to that? How did she know that he even meant it and it wasn't just the alcohol and spirit of the harvest festival talking?

Alcohol? Festival? All of a sudden Juliana's mind came back to her. She pushed him off of her roughly. Galahad fell on his butt and stared at Juliana, confused, as she scurried away from him.

"Juliana?" He righted himself and reached out to touch her.

"No!" She cried, turning away from him. "Don't touch me!"

A chill breeze swept over her, causing her to shiver. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, Juliana realized that she was in nothing but her underclothes and that her cloak had been stripped off of her. Blushing furiously, she reached for her cloak, which sat beside Galahad. He grabbed her wrist just as her own fingers wrapped around the rough fabric.

"Please," he said, "don't go." Galahad didn't care if he was begging. His knightly pride and honor had been swept out the door the moment that Juliana walked into his life.

"My lord, I beg you release me." Juliana's tone was stiff and formal. Galahad released her more out of surprise than obedience. Juliana quickly drew her cloak to her and threw it over her shoulders.

"Don't leave." Galahad said as she stood and began to walk away from him. "Please, Juliana, I love you."

He saw her back stiffen at the words. She turned her head so that she could look at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I assure you, my lord, the only love that I know, or that I wish for, is that of God." With those cold words of dismissal, Juliana fled into the dark.

> > > > >

Not until she was safely tucked inside her bed did Juliana allow the tears of guilt and self-loathing to come. They fell down her cheeks in a hot wave that continued for hours into the night. She cried until there was not a drop of water left inside her body. Even once she had fallen asleep, her body continued to be racked by dry, heavy sobs.

The morning light that invaded her tremulous sleep felt cold upon Juliana's face. She stirred, but remained under the covers. No one would drag her from bed this day. The guilt that rode upon her shoulders was too heavy for her slim figure to bear. She had not the strength to move from her safe haven beneath the covers of her bed.

A hollow knock sounded on the door to her room. Juliana made no move to get up, but simply buried her head beneath her pillow.

"Juliana?" It was Sister Helen. "Juliana, Mother Superior is looking for you. Are you alright, Juliana?" She knocked again. "Are you in there?"

"Yes, I'm here." Juliana replied weakly. Her throat burned as she spoke.

"Are you ill?" Sister Helen asked through the door, clearly concerned.

Juliana closed her eyes and draped an arm across her forehead.

"Yes." She replied. "Please, just let me rest."

There was no answer, only the shuffling of feet leaving the door.

Sighing, Juliana turned onto her side so that she faced the wooden wall. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears left inside of her.

Hours passed. Midday had come and gone and still Juliana remained abed. Mother Superior had visited her, but Juliana had feigned sleep. Her guilt was too great to face the woman who had so cared for her. Sister Ruth, a nun who knew much of herbs and healing, was sent into Juliana's room, where she forced a vile drink down the depressed girl's throat. But no others came to see Juliana, a thing that she was grateful for.

Not until nearly dusk did Juliana finally emerge from her bed. Drunkenly she stumbled towards the washbasin, where she splashed cold water onto her face and neck. But still, her skin felt hot to the touch; and the heat was not from fever. Suppressing tears that were not there, Juliana stared down at her reflection in the water and gasped. For there, on her collarbone, stood a dark mark. A mark that, should any of the nuns see it, would mark Juliana as a harlotest sinner.

> > > > >

Hehe, Juliana's got a hicky. Lol. I promised y'all a nice long chapter, and so there ya have it.

This chapter was kinda prompted by a book I'm reading right now - Isolde: Queen of the Western Isle (which I strongly recommend to any Tristan fans since the book is kinda about him. But I warn you, the character in the book is nothing like in the movie). And the book mentions Beltain and all that other stuff that happens in the legend of King Arthur. And I guess it just kinda made me imagine what could happen and…I'm rambling. Okay, I'm gonna stop now.

Anyways, I know you're probably wondering why I suddenly put in a Guinevere POV. Well, she's going to play a role in this story later on, a very important role.

Okay, so please review and tell me what you thought.