Part 7: link
British Army Field Hospital, 1942
kbrand5333
“And how are wewe this afternoon?”
“Not too bad, Nurse. Bored, mostly,” the young lieutenant replies, giving the pretty nurse a lopsided grin.
“Would wewe like a book, au a deck of cards au something? I’m sure I could dig some kind of diversion up for you,” Nurse Guinevere says, looking over his chart. “Lieutenant Emrys. Hmm. wewe are due for some medication, my friend.” She makes a mark on his chart and goes to a cabinet at the side of the large ward room filled with bunks.
“Perhaps a book. If wewe have anything good, that is.”
“Oh, choosy, are we?” she says, smiling at him. “It’s not often we get soldiers interested in literature.”
“I’m barely a soldier,” he admits, grinning at her again.
“Now, do not be so modest. I happen to know what wewe did to earn that ankle filled with shrapnel and broken bones.”
“How is the Captain, anyway?” Lieutenant Emrys says, looking at the bunk inayofuata to him, his face suddenly full of concern.
“He’s inayofuata on my list, Lieutenant. Here,” she says, handing him two pills and a paper cup filled with water.
“Thank you. And call me Merlin,” he says, swallowing the pills.
“Merlin. That’s an unusual name,” she says, handing him a book. “I’m Guinevere, but wewe may call me Gwen.”
“Thanks, Gwen. Hmm. The Hobbit. I thought this was a children’s book,” he says, flipping the book over.
“Allegedly, but it’s not really. You’ll like it,” she says, moving to the inayofuata kitanda and picking up the chart clipped to the footrail. “Hmm. Captain Arthur Pendragon. You’ve gotten yourself in quite the mess here, haven’t you?” she mutters, looking over the chart with a scowl. “Broken clavicle, extensive shrapnel damage to the chest and shoulder…” She looks up at the unconscious form lying on the bed.
He’s very handsome, she can’t help thinking. Young for an officer. His left shoulder is heavily bandaged, and some blood is starting to seep through. He looks slightly sweaty. I should check for fever, she thinks, walking to the head of the kitanda and laying her hand on his forehead. Not too bad, but will definitely keep an eye on him. She checks his bandages. They need changing.
“How is he?” Merlin’s voice behind her.
“Stable, for the moment. Going to keep my eye on his temperature. We don’t want him coming down with a fever.” She turns. “Good man, is he?”
“The best. I wouldn’t have dragged him out of the road if he wasn’t,” he says, smiling weakly.
“I’m sure,” she says, her eyes drifting back to the young captain. She goes to another cabinet and gets clean bandages and brings them to the bedside where she sits on a kinyesi beside him.
Reaching gently, carefully down, she begins to remove the old bandages, discarding them in a metal tray at her feet. He winces; he squirms in his unconscious state.
“Shh, Captain. I’m just changing your bandages,” she speaks softly to him, her fingers coming up to brush the sweaty hair at his forehead.
“He prefers to be called Arthur,” Merlin says from the inayofuata bed, eyes on his book.
“Arthur,” she says, looking down at his face, “I’m Guinevere.” She impulsively strokes his cheek.
Arthur sighs then, and settles back down. Gwen quirks her head to the side, curious, but continues to work, carefully peeling the last layer from his shoulder.
This is going to leave quite the scar, she thinks, but cannot help notice that his chest and shoulders are well-muscled and attractive. Not scrawny at all, but neither is he too huge. He’s perfect.
Her moyo seems to be beating rather faster, and she chastises herself. He’s a patient. You’re not supposed to be admiring the patients. Only leads to trouble.
Gwen touches Arthur’s shoulder with her hand, and she can swear he smiles just slightly. “I’m just going to clean your wounds and give wewe clean bandages,” she says, using the same soft tone to which he seems to be responding. Arthur sighs.
“Ah, how is Captain Pendragon doing, Gwen?” Doctor Gaius strides up, peeking over her shoulder at their patient.
“He’s comfortable now, Doctor. He was squirming a bit, but he seems calm now.”
“I’d like to take a look as long as you’ve got the bandages off,” he says.
“Of course.” She stands and the doctor sits in the kinyesi she has just vacated.
“Hmm.” The old man leans in close, inspecting the sutures and the other wounds. He gingerly touches Arthur’s skin, and the captain flinches and squirms again. “I thought wewe alisema he was calm,” Dr. Gaius looks sideways up at her.
“He was, just a dakika ago,” she furrows her brow.
“He’s warm,” Gaius says, laying his palm on the young man’s forehead. Arthur whimpers slightly.
Gwen goes around to the other side of the kitanda and sits on the mattress beside him, taking his hand between hers.
He immediately relaxes, and Dr. Gaius looks at her, amazed. “What did wewe do?”
“I just held his hand,” she says with a shrug.
“Looking pretty good. When he came in here his shoulder resembled ground beef,” the doctor says, inspecting the wound again, looking for any sign of infection au other trouble. “Hmm. This one doesn’t look too good. Keep an eye on him, Gwen,” he says, pointing to a particularly nasty-looking gash that has been neatly sutured closed. It is a little redder than the rest, and that troubles Gaius.
“Yes, Doctor,” she nods, and Gaius stands to go visit the inayofuata patient. Gwen tries to remove her hand from Arthur’s but he’s holding it tightly.
“Um…” she says.
“What is it, Gwen?” Gaius asks, curious.
“He won’t let go of my hand.”
“Well, at least we know he’s responsive,” the old man smiles and turns back to the soldier in the inayofuata bed.
“Try talking to him again, Gwen, it seemed to work before,” Merlin suggests, nose still in his book.
Worth a shot, anyway. She leans in close. “Arthur? I need my hand, please, dear. I promise wewe can have it back later.”
After a moment, his grip loosens and she extracts her hand. “Thank you,” she tells him softly, squeezing his good shoulder lightly, fighting the urge to kiss his cheek. What is wrong with me this evening?
Guinevere applies some antiseptic ointment to his wounds, talking softly to him all the while. Occasionally she peeks up at Merlin, a little self-conscious, but he is studiously keeping his face in his book. Which means he’s listening intently to everything I’m saying.
Gwen returns her attention to Arthur, gently wrapping his wounds, humming softly to herself as she works.
“He likes that song,” Merlin says.
“I knew wewe were listening,” she smirks at him. “Arthur,” she whispers, bending down over him, “I have to check on some other patients now, love, but I’ll be back to check on wewe soon.”
Did he just pout? Couldn’t be.
She turns to the inayofuata bed, and sighs heavily. Private Gwaine. Here we go…
xxx
“Ehhh… eeeeer…”
Merlin looks to his left, dropping his book down to his chest. What? “Doctor?” he calls.
Dr. Gaius comes over to his bed. “Something wrong?”
Merlin points at Arthur. “He’s saying something.”
“Ehhhnn… veeeer…”
“…When fear?” Dr. Gaius says, his face puzzling, looking at Merlin. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“No,” Merlin leans up on his elbow, listening intently.
“Wennn… ah… veeeer…” Arthur moans, his head turning on the pillow.
“Guinevere. He’s saying Guinevere,” Merlin translates suddenly.
Dr. Gaius looks up, scanning the large room. “Where is she?” He turns to a passing nurse. “Alice, can wewe find Gwen please, and send her over?”
“Yes, doctor,” she says, hurrying away.
“G…” Arthur manages, and Gaius puts his hand to his forehead.
“He’s burning up,” he says, whipping the blanket back and reaching for a cool compress.
“Yes, doctor, what is it?” Gwen asks, slightly winded.
“He’s asking for you, I think.”
“He is,” Merlin agrees, nodding.
“Gwehhhh…” Arthur moans again, hoarsely.
Guinevere goes around to his right side, his uninjured side, sitting on the mattress beside him again. “Shh, love, I’m here,” she whispers, taking his hand in hers. She gasps as he grips it tightly, almost painfully.
“What’s going on?” Merlin asks, hearing the gasp.
“He’s squeezing my hand. Hard,” she says, and as soon as the words are out of her mouth, Arthur relaxes his grip a bit, as if he understands.
“His fever is spiking,” Gaius says, frowning, applying the cold compress to his forehead.
“I’ll stay with him,” Gwen says.
“Your shift is almost over, Gwen,” Gaius says, raising an eyebrow at her.
“It’s all right. I’ll stay. Besides, I don’t think he’ll let me go,” she says with a smile, holding up their joined hands.
He shrugs, resigned. “It’s your time off, who am I to tell wewe how to spend it?” he mutters, wandering off.
She reaches up with her free hand and adjusts the compress. Doctors never do it right.
Gaius returns a moment later with a syringe. He gives Arthur the medication, peers over the tops of his glasses at Gwen one zaidi time, and walks off to attend other patients.
“You’re going to stay there all night?” Merlin asks.
“If I have to,” she says over her shoulder, toeing her shoes off and swinging her legs up onto the bed.
“Well, then, make yourself comfortable,” he laughs. “He likes you,” he adds.
“He’s unconscious.”
“He hasn’t responded to anyone else.”
“Hmm.”
“Can I get wewe anything, Gwen?” Alice comes over.
“Yes, bring that basin of cold water over here, please, so I can refresh his compress.”
“Of course,” the older nurse says, bringing a kinyesi over and setting the basin on top.
With her one hand, Gwen refreshes the cloth and replaces it on his forehead. “Stay with me, Arthur,” she whispers to him. “I need wewe to fight. I… I want to see wewe open your eyes so I can see what color they are,” she chuckles, her throat surprisingly tight. “Your friend Merlin is very worried about you. Don’t make his broken ankle be for naught, now.” She hears Merlin snort behind her. “Though I fear that when wewe do wake, he won’t let wewe forget that he saved your life,” she smiles and strokes the back of his hand with her thumb. “Arthur, wewe are not going to die. Not tonight. Not for a long time. Stay alive… for me.”
Before she realizes what she’s doing, she leans down and kisses his temple, just below the compress on his forehead.
Arthur’s temperature gradually drops over the inayofuata several hours, while Gwen’s eyelids gradually droop.
“Gwen, wewe should get some rest,” Merlin says.
“Go to sleep, Merlin. wewe need your rest zaidi than I do.” But he’s right. I’m exhausted.
xxx
Where am I? God, my shoulder hurts. What the hell happened? Arthur squeezes his eyes tight, not ready to open them yet. He feels strange. His left shoulder feels like someone has applied a large cheese grater and then set moto to it. He can’t songesha his right shoulder. There is something warm holding it down, and… someone’s holding my hand. Feels nice…
He turns his head and something tickles his chin. Smells so good. He opens his eyes. Who is this woman? The name drifts into his head and he immediately knows.
Guinevere. She’s real. I thought it was a dream. She stayed here with me all night. Either she’s real, au I’m dead and this is heaven.
He lifts his head and looks down at her, trying to see her. Her head is tucked into his shoulder, his hand loosely held between hers. She’s petite. Dark curls coming loose from a braid now hanging askew.
She feels really good. I can’t see her face very well. He angles his head, trying not to wake her. Smooth, light brown forehead. That’s about all I can see. He frowns.
“Arthur!” a voice inayofuata to him exclaims.
“Shh!” he shushes Merlin. “She’s sleeping,” he whispers, trying to bring his other hand around to hold her. Ow. He drops it back to his side, disappointed.
“What happened?” Arthur whispers to Merlin.
“There was a bomb, and—”
Guinevere sits up suddenly, surprised and embarrassed. She stares down at a grinning Arthur, her eyes wide. “Oh! I’m…”
“Guinevere, I know,” he says quietly.
“What? Oh, yes, well, I am, but I was going to apologize. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, least of all on your shoulder.”
“It’s all right,” he says, reaching for her hand again. “I liked waking up with wewe here.”
“You did?” she asks quietly, looking down at her hand in his.
“I dreamt of you.” You were caring for me, leaning over me, your beautiful brown eyes warm and tender, your soft lips brushing against mine, kissing all the hurt away.
“You did?” her eyes fly to his. Blue, with flecks of grey.
He nods, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. It sends a flutter through her belly and she suddenly feels warm all over.
“I’m happy to discover that you’re real.”
She smiles, afraid to speak. My moyo will leap from my throat if I open my mouth.
“And you’re even zaidi beautiful than wewe were in my dream,” he says, releasing her hand to touch her cheek.
Gwen blushes, his touch once again making her feel weak.
“Um,” she stammers, finding her mind completely blank. “How… how are wewe feeling?”
“Like my shoulder has been shredded. But if wewe keep taking care of me, I think I’ll make a full recovery in no time,” he smiles at her and the world stops. She cannot help but smile back at him.
Her smile is like sunshine.
xxx
Gwen hurries to the hospital, almost running, ignoring the knowing looks from those she passes. But all her haste is wasted this afternoon when she discovers an empty kitanda where Captain Pendragon was.
Her breath catches in her throat, and her overwhelming sense of loss takes her quite kwa surprise. See, wewe silly girl, that’s what happens. That’s why wewe can’t get attached to the patients. They leave. He’s probably been discharged to go home. au reassigned to a cushy dawati job somewhere, at the very least.
Still, her moyo feels empty. Shattered. If he’s gone, he’s surely taken my moyo with him. She takes a deep breath, blinks back traitorous tears, and is just about to step mbele to strip the kitanda of its linens, when a voice stops her.
“You look like you’ve Lost something.”
Gwen stops breathing. She doesn’t turn around. She can’t. It would be too cruel if it were my imagination.
“Or perhaps someone?” the voice says, closer now. She can feel the warmth of his breath on her neck.
She gasps as a strong arm snakes around her waist, and a warm body presses itself gently against her. She can feel his other arm, incapacitated kwa a sling, across the middle of her back. “I thought you’d been discharged,” she whispers hoarsely. It was all she could think to say.
“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” Arthur says, his lips tantalizingly close to her neck, just before he turns her around and replaces his right arm around her back, holding her as close as he is able.
“But…” she starts, and his lips cut off her words, soft but insistent, melding deliciously with hers as her eyes flutter closed and her hands come up to rest on his chest.
The kiss is over much too soon and Guinevere opens her eyes to see slate blue eyes gazing down at her, turning her insides to liquid, just as wave of sadness pours over her. He’s leaving.
Tears well in her eyes, and she lifts a hand to his cheek. “Goodbye, Arthur,” she whispers, and a tear slips from the corner of her eye.
“No,” Arthur says, his voice a low rumble.
“No?” she asks, puzzled.
“This isn’t goodbye,” he says, wiping her tears with his thumb, “this is hello.” With that, he slips his hand behind her neck and kisses her again, zaidi passionately, his tongue shyly coming forward, craving entrance but not wanting to scare her off.
Gwen brings her hands up around his neck and, forgetting that they are in the middle of a hospital ward in the middle of a war, parts her lips beneath his and gives in to the magic of his kiss, surrendering completely.
The hospital ward melts away, and it is just Arthur and Guinevere, locked in an embrace, their souls joining in an eternal dance as they forget the rest of the world.
The song that Gwen was humming to Arthur is “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square.”
Part 9: link
British Army Field Hospital, 1942
kbrand5333
“And how are wewe this afternoon?”
“Not too bad, Nurse. Bored, mostly,” the young lieutenant replies, giving the pretty nurse a lopsided grin.
“Would wewe like a book, au a deck of cards au something? I’m sure I could dig some kind of diversion up for you,” Nurse Guinevere says, looking over his chart. “Lieutenant Emrys. Hmm. wewe are due for some medication, my friend.” She makes a mark on his chart and goes to a cabinet at the side of the large ward room filled with bunks.
“Perhaps a book. If wewe have anything good, that is.”
“Oh, choosy, are we?” she says, smiling at him. “It’s not often we get soldiers interested in literature.”
“I’m barely a soldier,” he admits, grinning at her again.
“Now, do not be so modest. I happen to know what wewe did to earn that ankle filled with shrapnel and broken bones.”
“How is the Captain, anyway?” Lieutenant Emrys says, looking at the bunk inayofuata to him, his face suddenly full of concern.
“He’s inayofuata on my list, Lieutenant. Here,” she says, handing him two pills and a paper cup filled with water.
“Thank you. And call me Merlin,” he says, swallowing the pills.
“Merlin. That’s an unusual name,” she says, handing him a book. “I’m Guinevere, but wewe may call me Gwen.”
“Thanks, Gwen. Hmm. The Hobbit. I thought this was a children’s book,” he says, flipping the book over.
“Allegedly, but it’s not really. You’ll like it,” she says, moving to the inayofuata kitanda and picking up the chart clipped to the footrail. “Hmm. Captain Arthur Pendragon. You’ve gotten yourself in quite the mess here, haven’t you?” she mutters, looking over the chart with a scowl. “Broken clavicle, extensive shrapnel damage to the chest and shoulder…” She looks up at the unconscious form lying on the bed.
He’s very handsome, she can’t help thinking. Young for an officer. His left shoulder is heavily bandaged, and some blood is starting to seep through. He looks slightly sweaty. I should check for fever, she thinks, walking to the head of the kitanda and laying her hand on his forehead. Not too bad, but will definitely keep an eye on him. She checks his bandages. They need changing.
“How is he?” Merlin’s voice behind her.
“Stable, for the moment. Going to keep my eye on his temperature. We don’t want him coming down with a fever.” She turns. “Good man, is he?”
“The best. I wouldn’t have dragged him out of the road if he wasn’t,” he says, smiling weakly.
“I’m sure,” she says, her eyes drifting back to the young captain. She goes to another cabinet and gets clean bandages and brings them to the bedside where she sits on a kinyesi beside him.
Reaching gently, carefully down, she begins to remove the old bandages, discarding them in a metal tray at her feet. He winces; he squirms in his unconscious state.
“Shh, Captain. I’m just changing your bandages,” she speaks softly to him, her fingers coming up to brush the sweaty hair at his forehead.
“He prefers to be called Arthur,” Merlin says from the inayofuata bed, eyes on his book.
“Arthur,” she says, looking down at his face, “I’m Guinevere.” She impulsively strokes his cheek.
Arthur sighs then, and settles back down. Gwen quirks her head to the side, curious, but continues to work, carefully peeling the last layer from his shoulder.
This is going to leave quite the scar, she thinks, but cannot help notice that his chest and shoulders are well-muscled and attractive. Not scrawny at all, but neither is he too huge. He’s perfect.
Her moyo seems to be beating rather faster, and she chastises herself. He’s a patient. You’re not supposed to be admiring the patients. Only leads to trouble.
Gwen touches Arthur’s shoulder with her hand, and she can swear he smiles just slightly. “I’m just going to clean your wounds and give wewe clean bandages,” she says, using the same soft tone to which he seems to be responding. Arthur sighs.
“Ah, how is Captain Pendragon doing, Gwen?” Doctor Gaius strides up, peeking over her shoulder at their patient.
“He’s comfortable now, Doctor. He was squirming a bit, but he seems calm now.”
“I’d like to take a look as long as you’ve got the bandages off,” he says.
“Of course.” She stands and the doctor sits in the kinyesi she has just vacated.
“Hmm.” The old man leans in close, inspecting the sutures and the other wounds. He gingerly touches Arthur’s skin, and the captain flinches and squirms again. “I thought wewe alisema he was calm,” Dr. Gaius looks sideways up at her.
“He was, just a dakika ago,” she furrows her brow.
“He’s warm,” Gaius says, laying his palm on the young man’s forehead. Arthur whimpers slightly.
Gwen goes around to the other side of the kitanda and sits on the mattress beside him, taking his hand between hers.
He immediately relaxes, and Dr. Gaius looks at her, amazed. “What did wewe do?”
“I just held his hand,” she says with a shrug.
“Looking pretty good. When he came in here his shoulder resembled ground beef,” the doctor says, inspecting the wound again, looking for any sign of infection au other trouble. “Hmm. This one doesn’t look too good. Keep an eye on him, Gwen,” he says, pointing to a particularly nasty-looking gash that has been neatly sutured closed. It is a little redder than the rest, and that troubles Gaius.
“Yes, Doctor,” she nods, and Gaius stands to go visit the inayofuata patient. Gwen tries to remove her hand from Arthur’s but he’s holding it tightly.
“Um…” she says.
“What is it, Gwen?” Gaius asks, curious.
“He won’t let go of my hand.”
“Well, at least we know he’s responsive,” the old man smiles and turns back to the soldier in the inayofuata bed.
“Try talking to him again, Gwen, it seemed to work before,” Merlin suggests, nose still in his book.
Worth a shot, anyway. She leans in close. “Arthur? I need my hand, please, dear. I promise wewe can have it back later.”
After a moment, his grip loosens and she extracts her hand. “Thank you,” she tells him softly, squeezing his good shoulder lightly, fighting the urge to kiss his cheek. What is wrong with me this evening?
Guinevere applies some antiseptic ointment to his wounds, talking softly to him all the while. Occasionally she peeks up at Merlin, a little self-conscious, but he is studiously keeping his face in his book. Which means he’s listening intently to everything I’m saying.
Gwen returns her attention to Arthur, gently wrapping his wounds, humming softly to herself as she works.
“He likes that song,” Merlin says.
“I knew wewe were listening,” she smirks at him. “Arthur,” she whispers, bending down over him, “I have to check on some other patients now, love, but I’ll be back to check on wewe soon.”
Did he just pout? Couldn’t be.
She turns to the inayofuata bed, and sighs heavily. Private Gwaine. Here we go…
xxx
“Ehhh… eeeeer…”
Merlin looks to his left, dropping his book down to his chest. What? “Doctor?” he calls.
Dr. Gaius comes over to his bed. “Something wrong?”
Merlin points at Arthur. “He’s saying something.”
“Ehhhnn… veeeer…”
“…When fear?” Dr. Gaius says, his face puzzling, looking at Merlin. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“No,” Merlin leans up on his elbow, listening intently.
“Wennn… ah… veeeer…” Arthur moans, his head turning on the pillow.
“Guinevere. He’s saying Guinevere,” Merlin translates suddenly.
Dr. Gaius looks up, scanning the large room. “Where is she?” He turns to a passing nurse. “Alice, can wewe find Gwen please, and send her over?”
“Yes, doctor,” she says, hurrying away.
“G…” Arthur manages, and Gaius puts his hand to his forehead.
“He’s burning up,” he says, whipping the blanket back and reaching for a cool compress.
“Yes, doctor, what is it?” Gwen asks, slightly winded.
“He’s asking for you, I think.”
“He is,” Merlin agrees, nodding.
“Gwehhhh…” Arthur moans again, hoarsely.
Guinevere goes around to his right side, his uninjured side, sitting on the mattress beside him again. “Shh, love, I’m here,” she whispers, taking his hand in hers. She gasps as he grips it tightly, almost painfully.
“What’s going on?” Merlin asks, hearing the gasp.
“He’s squeezing my hand. Hard,” she says, and as soon as the words are out of her mouth, Arthur relaxes his grip a bit, as if he understands.
“His fever is spiking,” Gaius says, frowning, applying the cold compress to his forehead.
“I’ll stay with him,” Gwen says.
“Your shift is almost over, Gwen,” Gaius says, raising an eyebrow at her.
“It’s all right. I’ll stay. Besides, I don’t think he’ll let me go,” she says with a smile, holding up their joined hands.
He shrugs, resigned. “It’s your time off, who am I to tell wewe how to spend it?” he mutters, wandering off.
She reaches up with her free hand and adjusts the compress. Doctors never do it right.
Gaius returns a moment later with a syringe. He gives Arthur the medication, peers over the tops of his glasses at Gwen one zaidi time, and walks off to attend other patients.
“You’re going to stay there all night?” Merlin asks.
“If I have to,” she says over her shoulder, toeing her shoes off and swinging her legs up onto the bed.
“Well, then, make yourself comfortable,” he laughs. “He likes you,” he adds.
“He’s unconscious.”
“He hasn’t responded to anyone else.”
“Hmm.”
“Can I get wewe anything, Gwen?” Alice comes over.
“Yes, bring that basin of cold water over here, please, so I can refresh his compress.”
“Of course,” the older nurse says, bringing a kinyesi over and setting the basin on top.
With her one hand, Gwen refreshes the cloth and replaces it on his forehead. “Stay with me, Arthur,” she whispers to him. “I need wewe to fight. I… I want to see wewe open your eyes so I can see what color they are,” she chuckles, her throat surprisingly tight. “Your friend Merlin is very worried about you. Don’t make his broken ankle be for naught, now.” She hears Merlin snort behind her. “Though I fear that when wewe do wake, he won’t let wewe forget that he saved your life,” she smiles and strokes the back of his hand with her thumb. “Arthur, wewe are not going to die. Not tonight. Not for a long time. Stay alive… for me.”
Before she realizes what she’s doing, she leans down and kisses his temple, just below the compress on his forehead.
Arthur’s temperature gradually drops over the inayofuata several hours, while Gwen’s eyelids gradually droop.
“Gwen, wewe should get some rest,” Merlin says.
“Go to sleep, Merlin. wewe need your rest zaidi than I do.” But he’s right. I’m exhausted.
xxx
Where am I? God, my shoulder hurts. What the hell happened? Arthur squeezes his eyes tight, not ready to open them yet. He feels strange. His left shoulder feels like someone has applied a large cheese grater and then set moto to it. He can’t songesha his right shoulder. There is something warm holding it down, and… someone’s holding my hand. Feels nice…
He turns his head and something tickles his chin. Smells so good. He opens his eyes. Who is this woman? The name drifts into his head and he immediately knows.
Guinevere. She’s real. I thought it was a dream. She stayed here with me all night. Either she’s real, au I’m dead and this is heaven.
He lifts his head and looks down at her, trying to see her. Her head is tucked into his shoulder, his hand loosely held between hers. She’s petite. Dark curls coming loose from a braid now hanging askew.
She feels really good. I can’t see her face very well. He angles his head, trying not to wake her. Smooth, light brown forehead. That’s about all I can see. He frowns.
“Arthur!” a voice inayofuata to him exclaims.
“Shh!” he shushes Merlin. “She’s sleeping,” he whispers, trying to bring his other hand around to hold her. Ow. He drops it back to his side, disappointed.
“What happened?” Arthur whispers to Merlin.
“There was a bomb, and—”
Guinevere sits up suddenly, surprised and embarrassed. She stares down at a grinning Arthur, her eyes wide. “Oh! I’m…”
“Guinevere, I know,” he says quietly.
“What? Oh, yes, well, I am, but I was going to apologize. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, least of all on your shoulder.”
“It’s all right,” he says, reaching for her hand again. “I liked waking up with wewe here.”
“You did?” she asks quietly, looking down at her hand in his.
“I dreamt of you.” You were caring for me, leaning over me, your beautiful brown eyes warm and tender, your soft lips brushing against mine, kissing all the hurt away.
“You did?” her eyes fly to his. Blue, with flecks of grey.
He nods, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. It sends a flutter through her belly and she suddenly feels warm all over.
“I’m happy to discover that you’re real.”
She smiles, afraid to speak. My moyo will leap from my throat if I open my mouth.
“And you’re even zaidi beautiful than wewe were in my dream,” he says, releasing her hand to touch her cheek.
Gwen blushes, his touch once again making her feel weak.
“Um,” she stammers, finding her mind completely blank. “How… how are wewe feeling?”
“Like my shoulder has been shredded. But if wewe keep taking care of me, I think I’ll make a full recovery in no time,” he smiles at her and the world stops. She cannot help but smile back at him.
Her smile is like sunshine.
xxx
Gwen hurries to the hospital, almost running, ignoring the knowing looks from those she passes. But all her haste is wasted this afternoon when she discovers an empty kitanda where Captain Pendragon was.
Her breath catches in her throat, and her overwhelming sense of loss takes her quite kwa surprise. See, wewe silly girl, that’s what happens. That’s why wewe can’t get attached to the patients. They leave. He’s probably been discharged to go home. au reassigned to a cushy dawati job somewhere, at the very least.
Still, her moyo feels empty. Shattered. If he’s gone, he’s surely taken my moyo with him. She takes a deep breath, blinks back traitorous tears, and is just about to step mbele to strip the kitanda of its linens, when a voice stops her.
“You look like you’ve Lost something.”
Gwen stops breathing. She doesn’t turn around. She can’t. It would be too cruel if it were my imagination.
“Or perhaps someone?” the voice says, closer now. She can feel the warmth of his breath on her neck.
She gasps as a strong arm snakes around her waist, and a warm body presses itself gently against her. She can feel his other arm, incapacitated kwa a sling, across the middle of her back. “I thought you’d been discharged,” she whispers hoarsely. It was all she could think to say.
“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” Arthur says, his lips tantalizingly close to her neck, just before he turns her around and replaces his right arm around her back, holding her as close as he is able.
“But…” she starts, and his lips cut off her words, soft but insistent, melding deliciously with hers as her eyes flutter closed and her hands come up to rest on his chest.
The kiss is over much too soon and Guinevere opens her eyes to see slate blue eyes gazing down at her, turning her insides to liquid, just as wave of sadness pours over her. He’s leaving.
Tears well in her eyes, and she lifts a hand to his cheek. “Goodbye, Arthur,” she whispers, and a tear slips from the corner of her eye.
“No,” Arthur says, his voice a low rumble.
“No?” she asks, puzzled.
“This isn’t goodbye,” he says, wiping her tears with his thumb, “this is hello.” With that, he slips his hand behind her neck and kisses her again, zaidi passionately, his tongue shyly coming forward, craving entrance but not wanting to scare her off.
Gwen brings her hands up around his neck and, forgetting that they are in the middle of a hospital ward in the middle of a war, parts her lips beneath his and gives in to the magic of his kiss, surrendering completely.
The hospital ward melts away, and it is just Arthur and Guinevere, locked in an embrace, their souls joining in an eternal dance as they forget the rest of the world.
The song that Gwen was humming to Arthur is “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square.”
Part 9: link
