Rachel Caustello | Clubs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theunpressuredclub) wrote2014-02-16 04:53 am
theunpressuredclub) wrote2014-02-16 04:53 am
Entry tags:
it's the worry that gets you [Arthuriana]
Somehow, her father's visit had gone remarkably well. She'd fretted about it, prior to his arrival, but he'd managed to be civil, and she hadn't felt the same sort of inadequacy she usually struggled with in his presence.
It helped to know that she was loved as completely as she was by her husband and her dearest knight. Helped to have an excuse to slip away to spend time with the children, every so often.
It had gone remarkably well, until just before her father had departed and he'd come to bid her goodbye privately and everything he'd been waiting to say had finally slipped out.
People were talking, he'd said, though he hadn't said who exactly was. They were talking about how much time the Queen and the King's right-hand man spent together when the King was away. About how the Queen's second and newest child looked remarkably like the knight. Surely she understood how concerning this was to him, yes? Adultery was, after all, a treasonable offense, and even though Edgar looked on her with love now, surely at some point he'd question, and then where would she be? Better for her to deal with it now, her father had advised. Before things got messy.
They're mostly worries that have lingered in the back of her mind since the moment it became clear that her son looked like the other half of her heart. They're worries that have her hiding away in the children's room once her father leaves, her head bent over the young boy as she sits deep in fretful thought.
It helped to know that she was loved as completely as she was by her husband and her dearest knight. Helped to have an excuse to slip away to spend time with the children, every so often.
It had gone remarkably well, until just before her father had departed and he'd come to bid her goodbye privately and everything he'd been waiting to say had finally slipped out.
People were talking, he'd said, though he hadn't said who exactly was. They were talking about how much time the Queen and the King's right-hand man spent together when the King was away. About how the Queen's second and newest child looked remarkably like the knight. Surely she understood how concerning this was to him, yes? Adultery was, after all, a treasonable offense, and even though Edgar looked on her with love now, surely at some point he'd question, and then where would she be? Better for her to deal with it now, her father had advised. Before things got messy.
They're mostly worries that have lingered in the back of her mind since the moment it became clear that her son looked like the other half of her heart. They're worries that have her hiding away in the children's room once her father leaves, her head bent over the young boy as she sits deep in fretful thought.
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"F-father said that people were-- starting to talk. That they're-- seeing how much time I spend with him, even without you and-- how much the baby looks like Elliot. That they're saying I'm a--"
And the words you could call a woman who sleeps around with men other than her husband catch her throat painfully. Has her eyes shutting as she leans a little better against him.
"--I wish they-- weren't so bad at misjudging-- all that is in my heart."
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Particularly if people are slandering his wife this way. If she's here shaking before him from her own father bringing report of such things.
"I know your heart, Rachel. Elliot knows your heart." One thumb brushes at the corner of her eye, compulsive against tears he doesn't see but worries will fall. "These boys are-- Rachel, this child--" One hand has to drop down and touch the boy's cheek again "Is mine. I will go to the grave swearing that to the world that he is my son and that you have been nothing but faithful to our holy love. And it will-- not be a lie."
Not to them. Not to the honesty of the emotions between them.
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"God is-- the only One that can judge us on this," she murmurs, "And I-- cannot believe that One so good as He would judge us harshly as this world does, for something so pure as our love."
And it is a pure, beautiful, entirely holy love, between the three of them. It's a love that strengthens them all, and, as a result, gives strength to their kingdom, as well. She'd needed his words to remind her, but she knows them well in her heart, at the end of the day.
Still, there's another furrow in her brow as she thinks on it a moment longer, nudges his nose with hers.
"Don't-- tell Elliot, mm? I worry he'll-- try to do something noble, for our honour's sake."
Like leave. Like break his own heart and theirs, and all because he thought it would protect them.
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"We won't let him do anything foolish and honourable." His fingers shift from her cheek to her neck, hold her in place warm and safe. "Don't-- you do anything noble either, Rachel."
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"Nor you, my lion. Please."
It's better, if they all work together without one of them trying to take any sort of fall.
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He doesn't mean to pause. He doesn't mean to ponder what he might be able to attempt as the monarch of the realm--as their king as well as their husband and lover.
"Nothing noble."
Maybe not nothing stupid.
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"And not anything stupid, either, Edgar. At least-- not without us knowing, mm?"
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It's beyond perfect to have them both. It's absolutely something he'll fight tooth and nail to the bloody end to defend.
"Not without you knowing. I swear it."
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And she presses a soft kiss against his lips, gratefully and entirely lovingly.
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"What would I not do for you?" he murmurs against her lips. "What would I not do for our family?"
All of them.
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And it's a sentiment Elliot would absolutely share. They all know this.