Sir Lan of Cardigan's Journal

I feel introspective.
I've been thinking too much since the day I sat on the edge of Veva's bed and looked at her bruised cheek and held her hand and saw her eyes burning wtih tears. That's what her husband did to her. I'm still trying to understand why. He says he never means to hurt her, that it just 'happens'.

How does one 'accidentially' cause their wife to bruise everywhere they touch her? I know he's rough, I know he's violent, but surely, if he knew he was handling a lily, he would not shake it like an oak tree. She's not even eighteen, he treated her so roughly, how can he fail to see she's like a stained glass window?

It doesn't matter, now, I suppose, he's gone, and G is king. And I am charged to protect the queen, she is now my ultimate loyalty. That's harder than I thought; no one to think about other than her. What will make Veva happy? When was the last time she was happy?

I woke her up and looked in her eyes and told her Arthur was gone. There was a strange light there, and she put her arms around me, and held me, like the loss was mine. Maybe it was. Arthur made me.

Is it now safe to tell her? Tell her what? When our hands meet in simple moments, it's like I'm on fire from the inside into my skin? That when I catch the scent of her hair I can't breathe and all the blood rushes to my head and I'm dizzy?

My mouth goes dry thinking about trying say it. I've tried so hard to be the knight, the chivalric hero, forgetting my feelings, ignoring the things that interfere with my duty. But what happened a few nights ago was far from chivalry. I felt a hatred for Arthur I never knew existed, I couldn't stop myself as I hit him. I would have hit him until he died, and kept going until I collapsed.

I hate hating him. I loved him once. I loved him for so long, I was dazzled by his energy once, his enthusiasm for his interests drew me in. His broad faith in the world made me believe in myself. I remember moments, now past, where I loved him, and he could have done no wrong in my eyes. I gave him all of myself.

I do mean that literally.

But something ugly happened when he met Veva. She was a girl, and he wanted her. But I wanted her light. I wanted her life, I wanted to have that smile turned on me and to touch the golden-red hair and think myself the most fortunate ~~man~~ woman in the world to have gotten that close, to watch her blush and put a sunrise to shame.

I got my wish but Arthur didn't get his. And he became so ugly. He changed. I don't know this person who ought to be the king who made me a knight. I loved him so much, but he can't love anyone else.

Now Gawaine is king. That is good. Maybe she'll be a good king. But... I look at Veva, and I still see the blue bruise on her cheek, and the marks on her shoulders, and the blood on her neck, and I want to save her. Arthur is gone but she's still unhappy. I want to save her from unhappiness, from pain, from the slow sad lookbehind her smiles and the quiet fear as the day gets dark.

I looked in a mirror today and saw something odd and familiar but out of place. I realized it's the look I see in Garrett's eyes when he talks about every action making a difference in this life. It's the look of being afraid every action condemns us in front of the judge, and that the people we're trying to help are being hurt by us.

I still can't breathe when I think about Veva's breath warm against my ear as she whispered 'thank you', when she invited me to stay as company, and settled herself in my arms, against me, and said she felt safer that way. She slept, but I couldn't. But she slept easier, and for once I felt useful.

But the sadness in her eyes won't go away.

I want her to be happy even more than I want to be happy myself.

Current Mood: frustrated
Current Music: The Actress Hasn't Learned The Lines - from Evita

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