Arwen found herself sitting on the bed in her cell, pushed up into a corner while her eyes remained glued to the window above her as she watched the sun move. She could feel the air around her growing colder and knew that soon the sun would begin to set. Once it did, it was only a matter of hours before it rose again. And then all hope would be lost.
And then a familiar whisper sounded above her. The call of her name making the redhead quickly climb atop the bed again, hands reaching for the bars between them. Once she was in view, still there and alright, relief spread over Lancelot's features. "I was terrified I might find your cell empty."
"I'm alright, for now." Arwen reassured him. "Hengist is growing suspicious about Uther's silence." She spoke in a worried tone, fearful of the lack of time she had and yet no plan for an escape.
"You must keep up the pretence. I will not allow you to die here." Lancelot tried to reassure her. This time it was him who reached for her hand through the bars, and Arwen didn't hesitate in holding his quickly. As if holding on will make everything seem better, even if for just a few short moments.
But while at first all she felt was relief, soon she caught on to the way in which he spoke, his tone making her brows furrow as she looked away from their hands and back into his eyes. "What about you?" She couldn't help but ask.
"I have little to live for." Lancelot tried to make it seem like a simple answer, but in Arwen's eyes it was anything but.
"Don't say that." She protested at once.
"It's the truth. For all my words, for all that I believed, I have come to nothing." Lancelot explained, making Arwen's eyes grow sad at the thought of him giving up.
"You can't speak like that." She whispered back to him, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Not you. You're good and you're kind and you're noble. You are everything that is right with this world." She surprised, not only him, but even herself with her own words. Surprised at what the thought of him being gone, the thought of losing him... What it made her feel.
"I did not know you felt that way." Lancelot muttered out, wide eyes staring back at her.
"I... I didn't either, until now." Arwen admitted, but she did nothing to attempt taking it back. It was what she felt. And she wouldn't hide it. Not at a time like this when so much could change within the span of simple hours. Not when it may be her last hours.
"Then you have given me a reason to live." Lancelot announced, a new confidence sparking within him as he began to move again. "Be ready. I will come for you before nightfall." He said before starting to detach his hand from Arwen's hold, but she held on for one moment longer before he could fully turn away and leave.
"Be safe, please." She pleaded in a quiet voice, worried about something happening. Not for herself or her own escape, but for him just as much. She didn't want to think of something happening to him.
"I will see you soon. And I will get you out of here." Lancelot promised one last time, giving her hand a final squeeze before he pulled it away and stood back to his feet. Arwen watched him go, listening to his footsteps as they disappeared through the halls. And even with him gone, she didn't let go of the hope he gave her. Because, right now, it was the last thing she had left to hold on to.
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