-5-
It was a short walk from the coffee shop to the park where Guinevere was now sitting. She had been on the bench for what must have been an hour, but neither seeing nor hearing what was going on around her.
She had agreed to meet Merlin and Morgana after being bothered by them for days. They said it was of "great importance," and while she cared little about what was urgent to them, she was curious about what this matter was.
Guinevere lifted her face to the sky and let the late afternoon sunlight warm her skin. Then let her mind carefully wander back to a few years before.
She had been having strange dreams for the longest time. Dreams that didn't always make sense, but there were three people that were always present. There was a tall, pale man with eyes that flashed gold, a woman with raven hair and green eyes that turned into molten copper whenever she looked at her, and a very, very handsome man with golden hair and the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.
In the dreams she was a princess, a warrior, a maiden, or a servant. She saw herself carrying a sword, brandishing a bow, holding court over a room full of nobles, or holding hands with the blonde man. She would smell lavender and green fields and metal. She would feel warm and safe and so very, very loved in the golden-haired man's embrace.
But as the months went by, her once pleasant dreams turned into nightmares.
She began to dream of castles burning, of death and blood, and of so much pain. She would dream of children dying in her arms, of being taken against her will, of being abandoned, and of being imprisoned. In the most horrible nightmares, she dreamt of being tied to a stake and being burned alive. Guinevere would wake up from these nightmares with a scream still about to burst from her throat and she would run into the bathroom and scramble to turn on the shower, amazed that her skin was not blistered and charred from the pyre.
It was right about this time that she began to notice a tall, pale man and a raven-haired woman following her as she walked around town.
Guinevere remembered the first time they sat down at her table in the coffee shop and introduced themselves to her. Merlin and Morgana. Old-fashioned names that struck a chord deep inside her; she had been so afraid that she ran all the way back to her apartment.
That night, as she settled into a bath to help her soothe her nerves, the memories started flooding her. And she remembered.
After the visions had subsided, Guinevere sat in the bath with her arms around her knees, rocking herself until the memories stopped and her tears had ebbed. She didn't know how she got out of the tub and into her bed, but for the first time in months, she had no dreams.
She remembered waking up the next day and walking to the coffee shop where she found Merlin and Morgana seated at what she had come to think of as her "spot." She sat down with them, told them she remembered everything, and asked what they wanted.
That day, they started calling her their Queen.
They said that they wanted forgiveness, absolution, from the sins of the past. It took all of Guinevere's self-control not to break down and tear at her hair from the pain of it all.
Instead she told them that if she had to live with this pain, then so should they. She would not forgive them for the misery she endured for centuries. She would not forget the lies and the destruction and the blood they spilled to save him and damn her.
Him. Arthur. The King. Albion.
Guinevere sighed and shook her head clear of the memories of centuries past. She picked up her handbag and started to walk home. She would not think about Arthur anymore.
She reached her apartment and made her way to the bathroom to run her nightly bath. Then she walked over to the counter of her sink and began preparing her ritual of repentance. She put water in a shallow porcelain dish for the journey, lit a candle for guidance, and floated a sprig of rosemary on the water for remembrance.
She could do nothing more for all the innocents lost over the ages, but she always hoped that the intention of her humble tribute was received well.
"Forgive me," she said to no one and everyone. For failing you when I should have been stronger.
Guinevere then walked to the tub, put in a few drops of lavender oil, and waited until the scent permeated the room. She took off her clothes and sank into the warm water, not caring that she hadn't put her hair up in its customary bun.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, but the thought of what Morgana had said earlier rang in her head.
"Albion will fall."
What did she mean by that?
