Escapees | Guinevere & Arthur
Malconaire had always been a place of rest and quiet, but tonight it seemed doomed to stress. With their father's sudden announcement of Guinevere's betrothal, earlier that day, and Aria's equally sudden illness a bit later (Arthur, given his own experience with poisonings, had always had a fear of maladies, particularly sudden ones), Arthur could hardly focus on the festivities, despite Valentina's best efforts to enchant him with some one or other of her daughters. Lovely as they each were, Arthur had learned only lately that his heart was irrevocably in another's keeping...only to learn but days later that his own betrothal was pending. This was no time, in his mind, for merrymaking.
As soon as he'd been able, Arthur had stolen away, looking for some place of refuge, and creeping, unobserved, into a quiet alcove, tucked away, in a place Eithne had once shown him with the words, "We'll not be disturbed here." He hoped it proved just as true today, as it had then.
Arthur was no sooner through the door, however, than he turned to find the little apartment already occupied. He paused a moment, seeing his sister's face, and smiled half-apologetically. He could only think how she must be feeling, right about now.
"Had the same thought as I did, did you? Mind if I join you?"
When she didn't tell him to leave, Arthur walked over to her, flopping down beside her on the couch. "Rough out there, isn't it?" He turned to her, compassion blazing in his blue eyes. "How're you holding up, sis?"
He didn't say it was beastly of their father. She already knew that. And what was the point in it, anyway? Unexpected as it was, and though everyone had been quite blindsided, in retrospect it was also somehow the most natural thing in the world that he, of all people, would handle it in just that way.
"For what it's worth, Guin, I'm up next, apparently. I got a little warning, at least, though." He wasn't sure if that was because he was a son, or because he had a mother, but either way he didn't envy her. His chest constricted, thinking how his sister must feel. Reaching out, he put his arm around her. "But...I think I do perhaps understand some of what you might be feeling, about now, notwithstanding."
Arthur paused, "My mother told me at the feast on the second day, so I've had a little time to think about it..." he exhaled slowly. "But I'm not sure its coming as much help, for what its worth. In truth, I doubt as I shall so much as meet my bride before the wedding day."
Gently, he kissed the top of her head. "I wish I could make it all better for you. And, for what its worth, if Eoin doesn't prove the perfect gentleman, I'll destroy him. Just say the word. He's dead."
Eoin was one of Arthur's dearest friends, and he in truth wasn't overly concerned that their cousin wouldn't prove to be good to her, but Guin was his sister, and some things came first.
