<Two Weeks Later>
As the Commander strode along a cobblestone path towards the fortress chapel, Arthur deeply inhaled the scent of fresh herbs as he passed by one of the small gardens within the walls of Camboglanna. The Roman smiled to himself as he realized how much pleasure he derived from certain scents since Lancelot had begun sharing his bed a month ago. If he closed his eyes, Arthur could easily imagine the feel of his lover’s warm skin beneath his as the scent of lavender enveloped them both during their intense couplings.
But as Arthur came ‘round the final corner, his hobnailed boots clicking on the stone pathway until he reached the side door to the chapel, his pleasurable expression melted away into something darker. God, forgive my sins. Arthur quietly murmured as he entered the tiny house of worship. He approached the front of the chapel and prostrated himself nearly face down before the altar and prayed for forgiveness and understanding…and for Lancelot’s soul. Arthur remained bent before the altar of his God until his back fully protested from his arched position on the floor. He rose at last and humbly sat down on the small bench facing the large wooden cross before him….and continued to think while having this small time alone.
The handful of days following the medicus’ recommendations on Lancelot’s wounded side had been troublesome for Arthur. He had successfully enlisted Dagonet’s aid in keeping Lancelot from riding (or so far as Arthur knew), but refraining from acting on his urges at night had been nearly impossible. Yet Arthur had succeeded…much to Lancelot’s grumbling dismay. And when the two men had finally decided that Lancelot was well on the mend….their coupling had been almost comical as Arthur attempted to be as gentle as possible….and most likely looked the fool as he coddled Lancelot to the point of angering the other man. And Arthur would never be able to use his shaving unguent again without thinking on how Lancelot had made use of it recently. He raked a hand through his hair and then sighed at catching a whiff of it now…..Lancelot would certainly be the death of the Roman, one way or another. Arthur had finally allowed Lancelot to return to the patrols roster this week; expecting his lieutenant back before dusk this day. And he prayed to God for the Sarmatian’s safe return…uninjured. The dispatches had arrived mid morning still with no reply from Arthur’s superiors on the matter of Falco’s idle threats over supply wagons. However, thus far all supplies arriving at Camboglanna had been at full capacity. Thus Arthur hoped that Lancelot had misunderstood what he’d overheard at Aquae Sulis. Yet the lack of response from his superior was somewhat worrisome…
Current Location: Fortress Chapel
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: silent prayers