Chapter 45: Renate

One more deep breath and I'm ready to try again.

Arthur waits patiently, his big hands cradling my head, his thumbs tracing the tear tracks on my face. He is the kindest man I have ever known; the only man I have ever loved.

So why won't the words come? What is keeping me from telling my husband that another man forced himself upon me?

The deep breath comes out on a long sigh. Another failure.

'It's okay, love,' my husband says softly, leaning forward to press his warm lips gently to my forehead. 'Take your time. Whatever it is that's happened has obviously traumatized you.'

My grip on the front of his tunic tightens. How can I be lucky enough to be married to such a man? My whole life, Arthur has been patient, loving, understanding, humorous, and wonderful. When we married shortly after my father's death, Arthur was more than patient: he lived for years putting up with his child bride's fantastic tales of angels and monsters and a true love that was waiting for her. (It had taken a few years for me to realize that I was married already, especially since Arthur, in all his goodness, had waited until after my first menstruation had passed before sharing a bedchamber and consummating our marriage)

There is another sign, only this time it is not mine. Arthur tilts my head up murmuring sweetly, 'My little Mariposa…'

When his lips cover mine, it's all I can do not to throw him off. Arthur would, of course, have understood if I had – more so if I was ever able to tell him exactly what was causing my distress – but something I couldn't quite identify held me back, and the kiss continued…

It was a short kiss, to be sure – meant more to comfort than to excite. But I guess that's what left me speechless after it ended: the fact that every kiss I had shared with my husband was meant either to seduce or to comfort or, more often than not, to meet expectations and traditions.

'Guinevere, are you okay?'

Lancelot's kiss had been none of those, least of all the third. He had brought me into his embrace like it was on some uncontrollable impulse.

'You're shaking, Guinevere…'

If the kiss was not an act of seduction or comfort, what was it for? Taking in a huge gulp of air, I force myself to remember what the kiss had felt like… what had driven those alien lips to claim mine…

'Mariposa…'

'Mi Mariposa, te amo!'

My head snaps up at the sound of that voice… I had only heard it for a few minutes, and that had been in the morning hours of the day, but the voice sounds… it feels…

'Ay, Mariposa, te amo… Mi Mariposa, te amo…'

I quickly untangle myself from Arthur, falling rather gracelessly to the floor in the process. Scrambling up unaided, I stride impatiently over to the window, where Arthur is already posted, just as curious about the loud, drunken singing as I am.

I have to squint a bit against the garish light of the setting sun, but when I am finally able to see clearly, there he is: Lancelot, yelling the unfamiliar song in a familiar language, and being scolded and half-dragged by a maid in palace livery.

Lancelot seems to notice his new audience of two – although no doubt there are other curious individuals glancing out of the other castle windows, but Lancelot seems to be singling out just me and Arthur… or perhaps just me.

With quite a bit of effort, the inebriated Lancelot pulls himself out of the seemingly angry arms of the maid with him and reaches out towards my window, falling to his knees in the process.

'Mariposa!'

The sound of his voice is heart-wrenchingly, pitiably desperate… but the love that is poured into that single word floods my senses, overwhelms my heart, and drowns my mind with the realization thatthis is what had driven the kiss – this is what was lacking in all other kisses I had ever shared – this is it.

Something inside me seems to fall away, revealing more: more of those same kisses, exchanged many times in places and circumstances which seem only hazily remembered, as if they don't quite fit in with the rest of my memories.

But if that's the case, then why is everything else in front of me going blurry, as well? Am I dying? I can't die! I have to go down there – I have to live happily ever after with my soul-mate – I have to experience more love, more passion, more kisses on candlelit picnics that only exist because of the power of the one man in the world who matters more to me than any other… the one who makes my heart beat faster in a pleasant tattoo… the man who, just this morning, I had told to leave me alone forever…

'Ethan…'

The darkness overtakes me for only a moment before I fall heavily onto the marble floor, not even bothering to land appropriately.

Another familiar voice welcomes me irritably to Athens. Hands thrust a set of black robes into my arms, the only accompanying explanation being, 'The Tribunal is furious.'

Well, I was packing up for spring break when I found this long-lost draft for this chapter, and even though I wrote it while I was unmedicated so it's all angsty and whatnot, I loved some of the descriptions I had thrown in there, so after some quick editing and a sudden realization of just how long it's been since I've updated this fic, I decided to post it!

And now comes the evil part... I've left you all on another cliff-hanger, and I don't know when I'm going to be able to update next. I promise, before all of you and God Himself, that I will finish this story, but I don't know how long it is going to take me. I'm going on vacation with a friend for spring break, so I won't be able to write anything during then (I tend to write best when I'm on my own) and then I'm not sure how busy I'll be once I get back to school. So I would like to apologize for the following things:

1) For the disgustingly long time it has taken me to update this story.
2) For the shortness of this chapter -- I know you guys have been waiting a long time for it, and all I can give you are these two pages.
3) For giving you this chapter completely un-beta'd -- the only person I can share this story with who has read GoT anywhere nearby is a horrible beta. (this apology includes an implied apology for any spelling or grammar or inconsistency errors)
4) For how long it might take for me to update next.

I would also like to thank all of you for sticking with me, and for being patient... Thank you so much!