A midsummer festival [eng] |
Qualis nox fuit illa, di deaeque
- Gods and Goddesses, what a night it was –
Arthur had never liked midsummer festivals, all dancing and gossiping.
He couldn’t tell how many girls that had flirted with him, giggling and twirling their long hair, hoping that they would become his Queen of heart.
Girls that didn’t like him for who he was; but for who they saw; the future king of Camelot.
And tonight was no exception.
He sat together with his father and Morgana at the table of honor, watching as commoner and nobles gathered for the only time of the year; not thinking about titles and rang but warmth and the longing for someone to hold close.
“My lady”, a voice that usually was unconfident when talking to girls was now filled with playfulness and Arthur turned his head just in time to see Merlin as he bowed before Morgana’s chair, offering her an arm.
With a frown he watched how his stepsister laughed heartily and followed the clumsy manservant to the dance floor.
“You shouldn’t sit with your old man the whole night”, he could hear his father’s thick voice. He was drunk; Arthur could tell that from long way. “Do you know it was on a feast like this I talked to your mother for the first time?”
Arthur shook his head, he hadn’t known that.
“Go out there and find your Queen, even if so for a night”, King Uther said, raising a goblet to his lips only to find it empty. “Now, where are the bloody servants?”
Arthur shook his head and excused himself before leaving the table, sick-sacking through the dancing crowd, still able to hear his father’s muttering.
He didn’t stop until he reached the balcony, inhaling the fresh summer air. He closed his eyelids and smiled as a warm breeze swept through his golden hair.
Music and laughter was heard as a soft hum from the lightened ballroom and with his eyes traveling over the silhouettes of Camelot he felt content for the first time this night.
He actually would enjoy this midsummer festival if it wasn’t for a certain girl avoiding him. A girl with the darkest, deepest eyes he’d ever seen and a smile that sent him chills. A girl that he could never be with, a girl that he’d promised himself to stay away from. A girl that deserved someone better – someone that could love her truly without having to hide and sneak with it. A girl with the most beautiful name in the world; Guinevere.
With a sigh, he rested his head in his hands and tried to think of something else.
But giggling voices made him return to reality and he sighed once more as he saw three girls all dressed up in expensive gowns, looking at him through fluttering eyelashes.
“Prince Arthur”, they said in coir before bursting out in laughter. Arthur smiled stiffly before he bowed and left the balcony in a hurry.
Inside, more people had joined the dancing and fighting through the crowd, he tried to get back to the table of honor. But as he was halfway through, he heard her voice through the music and laughter.
“I’m sorry milord”, he could hear how she stuttered and with a soft smile his mind showed him how the color on her dark chins deepened. She’d probably bumped into someone in her hurry to serve the nobles.
“Come on pumpkin”, a voice said, filled with a sort of longing that made Arthur stop in the middle of the dance floor, his face a solid mask of stone. “I can’t let a beautiful young girl like you be all alone a night like this.”
With his lips pressed against each other, Arthur started to make his way towards the dark corner from where the voices came from.
“No, really milord”, Gwen’s voice sounded so fragile, tearing the very soul of Arthur’s, “I’m needed here, the lords and ladies-“
“Hush”, the dark voice came. “You shouldn’t talk so much.”
He could see them now, only a few meters from him. The man was about twice Arthur’s age and it was a hunger in his eyes that made the prince sick.
Guinevere’s dark face was burning red of embarrassment as she pressed her both hands against the elder mans chest, trying to push him away.
But the man misconceived her gesture for an approving and his hands traveled all over her body whilst he tried to kiss her.
Arthur couldn’t stand it any longer, erasing the gap between them with two steps before he grabbed the back of the man’s costume and forced him away, pushing him in front of himself towards the main doors, as far away from the servant girl as he could get.
Never had he felt such anger, all he could see was how he’s dirty hands had been all over his Guinevere, trying to force her into doing something she never would have done willingly.
“What the hell is all this about?” The elder man shouted as he was pushed out in the corridor, his watery eyes fixed upon the prince.
“Do you ever touch Guinevere again-“, Arthur started, his voice shaking with anger.
“Oh, I beg your pardon you majesty”, the man said with an understanding tone.
“I didn’t know the young maid was your property. Such an innocent girl, surely she must be one hell of a-“
He hit him right in the face, making the man sink to the ground with his hands grasping the broken nose; blood dripping onto the dark blue costume.
Arthur leaned down so that he stood face to face with the elder man. His watery eyes were filled with fright. The blond prince grimaced as if feeling sick.
“You disgust me, Mr. Thorn”, he whispered with a stern voice. “Leave the festival and if I ever find you molesting Guinevere, or any other girl, I’ll personally take care of you.”
And with that, the crown prince walked back to the ball room.
His blue eyes traveled over the crowded room, trying to get any glimpse of the dark haired maidservant. But it wasn’t until he searched the balcony that he found her sitting on the ground, her arms wrapped around her legs.
As she heard him coming, Gwen tried to rise up, erasing any trace of her tears.
“It’s okay Guinevere”, He said, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. Guinevere trembled, backing away from his touch.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you”, he said with a soft voice before he sat on the ground, gesturing for her to follow his example. After a moment the dark haired girl did the same. He could still hear his heart beating in his ears, his hands shaking.
“What this – this monster – tried to do to you”, he shook his head, not able to continue. What if he’d never noticed? What if something had happened to her.
“Thank you, milord”, her voice warm, filled with so much faith.
Arthur turned his head and met her brown eyes, feeling how he started to burn only by seeing her beauty.
“It was the last thing I could do, when I saw his dirty hands all over you-“
A soft kiss on his cheek turned him into silent. He looked at her once again, they were so close now that he could make out every brown color change in her big, overwhelming eyes.
“I love you Guinevere”, he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “I love you so much it drives me nuts.”
And then he heard the most beautiful sound in the world, more beautiful than any melody ever played; her laughter.
“Surely you must be nuts if falling in love with a simple servant girl”, she said with glimmering eyes as she rose to the ground, her arms wrapped around her waist as if keeping her from cold. Something in her eyes suddenly died and Arthur swallowed, following her example so that they now stood face to face.
“We cannot be, my lord. Not now, not ever”
He shook his head with a soft smile. Tonight was not the right time for these thoughts.
“I think you’ve forgotten what day it is today, my fair lady”, he said, bowing before he offered her an arm. “Today, titles don’t matter, so may you do me the honor and dance with me this midsummer night, my love?”
She hesitated; her mind kept telling her that it would do her no good. That they would get even more hurt as the night ended and they had to return to their titles, continue loving each other in secret and in distance. But her heart wanted nothing else than feel his touch and be near its only love.
“Please, Guinevere”, his voice was low and filled with longing. “Don’t deny me a dance with my own Queen of heart.”
And with a smile she accepted his hand and the pair started dancing under the stars to the melody that traveled through the air, filling their hearts with warmth.
Arthur Pendragon liked midsummer festivals, he admitted to himself as he leaned his chin upon Guinevere’s head, breathing her own scent of lavender and late summer rain.
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| Kommentarer | | svikmejinte - 29 okt 10 - 22:43 | | oj, vad duktig du är på engelska! Lika bra som när du skriver på svenska! |
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