#222: Sleeping on the couch
Her husband comes in as she finishes the packing. She has already dismissed the maid that Guenever sent to help her; the room is empty except for themselves, and he looks as small as she feels. "What are you doing?"
"As you see."
Mordred is quiet for a moment, and she concentrates on tying the last of the bundles; quiet is the worst sign.
"And where do you think you're going?" he says at last.
She keeps her eyes down. Careful knots, holding things together. "I am taking the children home."
"What for?"
"Better so."
Then there is no more to do. She looks up at him, at his still face, eyes black as blight. "Better!"
"You frighten them," she says softly.
He goes white.
"You frighten me."
"Christ, lady--"
She rests her hands flat on the bed to steady them. "I understand. Even so, I understand, but how can they? How shall I tell Melehan why you curse him when he tries you, when you never have before this? How shall I promise them you'll not do them harm? Or me?"
"Damn it--"
"How?"
A silence, then: "Don't go." Very low. "Lady, in God's name, don't leave me."
"Do you forbid me?" she asks, and watches him flinch. "Then I must."
He swears bitterly then in his own alien dialect, and turns his back on her, leaning trembling arms on the wall. She closes her eyes a moment to shut him out, to school herself to calm; she thinks of her sons, their faces grown wary, and armors herself against his weakness.
"When this is over," she says then. "When the King comes home, then come thou home to me, and it will be well."
But when she opens her eyes, he has gone.
Mordred
Arthurian legend
295 words
"As you see."
Mordred is quiet for a moment, and she concentrates on tying the last of the bundles; quiet is the worst sign.
"And where do you think you're going?" he says at last.
She keeps her eyes down. Careful knots, holding things together. "I am taking the children home."
"What for?"
"Better so."
Then there is no more to do. She looks up at him, at his still face, eyes black as blight. "Better!"
"You frighten them," she says softly.
He goes white.
"You frighten me."
"Christ, lady--"
She rests her hands flat on the bed to steady them. "I understand. Even so, I understand, but how can they? How shall I tell Melehan why you curse him when he tries you, when you never have before this? How shall I promise them you'll not do them harm? Or me?"
"Damn it--"
"How?"
A silence, then: "Don't go." Very low. "Lady, in God's name, don't leave me."
"Do you forbid me?" she asks, and watches him flinch. "Then I must."
He swears bitterly then in his own alien dialect, and turns his back on her, leaning trembling arms on the wall. She closes her eyes a moment to shut him out, to school herself to calm; she thinks of her sons, their faces grown wary, and armors herself against his weakness.
"When this is over," she says then. "When the King comes home, then come thou home to me, and it will be well."
But when she opens her eyes, he has gone.
Mordred
Arthurian legend
295 words