Limerence

Chapter VI- Follow the Cat

Notes: Cath introduction, playfulness, slight angst, advice (reader receiving), talking, mischief (Cath)
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     The eerie colors spilled through the now open bay windows in streams of primaries— like stained glass across the shifting hardwood rivers. The sheer curtains billowed from the faint breeze, the environment outside was quiet and serene. There were no clouds in Camelot, no song birds or insects— no sun or moon— just a realm of whatever he desired.

    Thinking of Arthur, you wondered where he had gone off to— due to the empty place on the grand king bed. The blankets fell off your waist and shoulders, the robe he had donned on you having been pulled tight as if to cocoon you in his scent, body, and warmth. Though a day ago (quite literally yesterday) you would have been aghast and ashamed at finding yourself in his room— in his bed— now, you couldn't necessarily form any thoughts aside from a droning, peaceful dull. You couldn't quite remember anything from earlier in the morning, when the vibrant colors were but a pale hazy glaze. Yet, you recalled his touch so gentle and fleeting across your skin as if you were glass that could shatter at any moment. His violet eyes had glittered with a notion you had been denying thus far: love. He truly did love you, so much maybe you were scared of it— maybe that was why you wanted to run from his safe embrace, from these castle walls, and from him... because you were scared. So very petrified of what you had worked for this long was finally crumbling.

    You rolled over and hugged the quilt pillow, carefully folding your arms under and resting your cheek on the cushion. Your eyes fell down to the creased sheets where he had lain previously. Peculiarly, the sheets and comforters didn't smell like him... or maybe you were getting used to his scent. The cloud of cherry and pine seemed to haunt you everywhere, just not here weirdly. Maybe what occurred earlier created a new space for you two to coexist without any previous settings. Or possibly you were simply getting used to him.

     With a defeated huff, you turned over towards the bay windows, still peeking out from your arm and the blanket. So, this was your life now. You wished you could stay here forever— just in this room. There was something comforting about the books lining the wall, about the intricate tapestries and antique decorations. An old grandfather clock ticked in the corner, the brass arm swinging behind the glass in metronome ease that seemed to soothe your gradually racing heart. There was no other noise aside from the ticking clock and your steady breathing. Wonders flitted through your mind as you traced over the cobblestone walls and the red and gold carpets. Did he truly become a king at just sixteen years? Surely this castle has changed since then, with Camelot constantly being swept up in the wars. What terror that must have been for such a young soul to witness the destruction of his only home again and again. You were surprised by the sharp pang of sorrow that ran through you; what he had experienced before is exactly why you were here. But you still had his help, his resources and advisors. But what did he have? Himself, in that labyrinth of a mind. Maybe if you could read minds you'd be at ease; you'd always know what he was thinking and what he thought of you. Or maybe that wouldn't be a good idea... though, you were sure his chaos powers could grant that possibility if you so desired.

    Speaking of chaos, just what kinds of sorcery coursed through his body? You were unsure of what to think of the rumors; that King Arthur of Camelot was the hallmaster of chaos and he was but unforgiving to any in his way. But being here, you were inclined to speculate differently: his subjects were content, his advisors wise, and his manners proper. Though, you didn't really know him, did you now? Yesterday was your first day with him, face to face. And although he had been anything but kind and understanding, you still consulted that inkling of suspicion in the back of your mind. He was doing this all for you— to gain your trust. And then once he had it, then what would he do? Trust wasn't so easily granted... but you let him have it, no? This morning was... you didn't quite want to remember. Maybe if you ignored it and believed this was the first time you woke to your dread of a husband having already left without a note of goodbye then you could be at ease. However, you remembered his warm smile, his soft voice, and his warm clothing badinh you farewell as he left. And that didn't help your situation. You felt slightly sickly, maybe you could excuse yourself from the rest of the day— maybe you could hide here for the rest of your life. But, what good would those sentiments do for you subjects back at home, and begrudgingly, the people of Camelot? Now, there was no hiding from your new life. It was either drown, or swim.