(no subject)

[still_golden]

Jennifer's head and heart are full of memories as she and Matt return to the city from Aideen's grave. You bring your own history to this hour, everything you have lived. You bring Kevin here within you, and you bring Rakoth, who you survived Matt had told her. It need not be now as it has been before!

And Leila's words, in the Temple. Grant him release.

Maybe -- maybe--

When they reach Paras Derval, Jennifer takes her leave of Matt, who gives her a kind look out of his one eye. Then she turns and walks through the bright colors of the palace to Arthur's room, not sure what she'll say or do.

There's no response to her light knock, and she finds the room empty when she opens the door. Of course -- Arthur is in council with Aileron and Loren and Paul and all the others. Closing the door behind her, she moves to the window to wait.

Comments

[still_golden]

Jennifer watches him, feeling oddly seperate from him for a moment. He is the Arthur she knows -- but he's someone else, as well, with a son she could never give him. Not in any life.

"I only spoke with him briefly," she says slowly, "but he was . . . he is very strong, I think. He is your son."

[most-generous.livejournal.com]

Arthur nods gravely, accepting Guinevere's words about Bran as a gift, and sets the subject aside. It's cruel to talk too long about his son by another wife; it reminds this Guinevere of her failure.

Arthur cannot bear to hurt the woman beside him, her golden hair radiant in the low sunlight. He loves her far too well -- with all of himself, he realizes. She is proud and fair, and she gave herself to him today. Arthur must lose her, soon, to the fate they share and to another doom even greater. The King of the Summer Country must return to the Summer Country, to the cold, dark-haired queen whom he has not even kissed since before Bran was born.

Arthur draws Guinevere to himself and kisses her again, desperately. There will be few enough chances later.

[wolflord_andain]

It is only when the King and his not-quite-Queen are fully absorbed in each other that the shadow by the window shifts, cool grey eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

He has learned quite a bit today, and all of it will be immensely useful.

Even this last intimacy.

All things may be made into weapons, in time.

All things.