Alone

      The sky was full of clouds pregnant with rain. Sharp biting wind whipped around the
woman huddled on the weathered wooden bench. Her purple raincoat was the only splash
of color on this dreary and dismal day. The park was deserted except for a few stubborn
pigeons. Their loud fighting for the crumbs of bread scattered around the bench echoed in
the silence. Her long brown hair flew around her pixie face as she emptied the last crumbs
on the ground. As she stared at the quarreling birds, she was shocked at how they reminded
her of her family. Her pale gray eyes filled up with tears, remembering the scene she had just
fled from. No, her family reminded her of vultures, not even waiting until her grandma's
body was buried before turning on each other.

     Their screams still rang in her head, causing her temple to throb. Hands had grabbed
whatever they came to rest on. Greed shined in eyes that should be full of grief. Sisters
played tug of war with jewelery, clothes and everything that wasn't nailed down. They
even emptied the cabinets and fridge of food. She was lucky to have slipped the small
painting from her grandma's bedside table into her pocket. In the confusion, she ran
from the house, sickened by her family.

     She pulled the picture from her pocket. It wasn't anything special and had no real
value. It showed a boy and girl huddled close together as they crossed a rickety old
bridge. Floating above and behind them was a beautiful angel, dressed in white with
flowing blond hair. She had a smile on her face and it was clear that she was watching
over the two children. When she stayed the night with her grandma, that picture was
the last thing she saw at night. And when she woke the next morning, her eyes instantly
went to it. That small picture was the thing she most identified with her grandma. Her
grandma had been her guardian angel here on earth. Without her, the young woman
was lost.  Darkness pressed in on every side. She had lost the only person she trusted.

     Tears poured down her cheeks and mingled with the rain that had started to fall.
Her grief came gushing out of her in waves. Sorrow wrapped his icy arms around her
as she sobbed with abandonment. The only person that loved her as she was had been
taken from her. Her heart screamed in anger and rage. Her soul was scared and numb.
To lose the person that was her rock was unbearable. But then to watch as her family
picked apart her grandma's belongings was more than she could take. Her grandma's
funeral wasn't even until tomorrow. Did they have no respect, no shame? Her heart
ached at the unfairness of it. Is this what would happen when she died?  The people
she thought loved her not waiting until she was in the ground before they divided up
her meager possessions?

     For the first time in her life she felt totally alone. She had always been a loner.
Trusting others had never been easy for her and after the scene at her grandma's,
she understood why. She loved her family but knew that they would stab her in
the back if given a chance. Her grandma was the one person that made her feel safe.
She could tell her anything and she never laughed the way that the others did. Gran
never made her feel stupid and worthless like the rest of her family made her feel.
She had always been the one to support and comfort her. Gran's house was warm
and welcoming, much more like home than her own house. Her grandma made her
feel special and now she was gone. She wondered if she would ever feel special again.

     The young woman sat in the rain for a long time, crying out her pain. She knew
her face must be dry by the time she returned the house. It was no longer her Gran's
house because Gran wasn't there. It would be sold and the money divided between
the family. She was glad her grandma had already paid for her funeral. Her family
would have dug a hole in the backyard and buried her if they could. She sighed
and wiped her eyes with a tissue. Time to go back and face the jackals. The house
was most likely empty of Gran's things by now. Taking a deep breath, she stood
and walked out of the park. Time to begin life alone.

My Flaws Are Part of Me

I am not perfect. Far from perfect to tell the truth. I will never be called beautiful. At most,
I consider myself cute. But I'm ok with that. It took a long time to get here, but finally I am
comfortable with the way I look. First of all, I am 4 foot 8 inches tall. That is pretty short.
Needless to say, I will never be a model. I wear glasses because contact lenses and I do
not get along. There are numerous things that I can find wrong with my body. However, I
have come to terms with my so-called flaws. I won't lie and say I wouldn't like a few more
inches. That is not going to happen. So I have learned to embrace my uniqueness.

But my flaws are not all physical. I have quite a few traits that I don't like. First up, my
low self-confidence. It works against me in so many ways. I never think I am good
enough. As soon as do something and can't change it, I see things I should have done
differently. I'll say something and instantly kick myself for saying it. There are so many
things I wish I had done but I didn't because I didn't think I was good enough. I am
getting better at believing in myself. Having friends that push me helps. they don't force
me to do things, they just don't let me chicken out.

Secondly, there is my shyness. I am painfully shy around people I don't know. I get
tongue-tied and my brain freezes. Meeting a new group of people for the first time is
agony for me. I just want to run and hide. But with each day, I make more of an effort
to reach out and meet new people. By opening up, I have made some wonderful
friends.

There are many more flaws that I could list. My stubbornness, my temper, my bad
spelling, my lack of tact, my cluelessness and so on. Some I'm working on and some
I doubt I can ever fix. There will always be times I stick my foot in my mouth. And
I am so grateful for spell-check. But all of these things are a part of me. Combined,
they make me the special person I am. So I'm not perfect and never will be. Perfect
is boring and too much work. I would rather stand out for being me than to try to
fit some one's idea of perfect. Keep your air-brushed visions of perfection. I choose
to be me, flaws and all.

Why I Write

Earlier today I was asked why I write. The person that posed this question might as well
have asked me why I breathe. I don't really know why I write. I just write. It is a part of
me.  Maybe it is because I've always loved to read. It could be because I was always
surrounded by wonderful storytellers and it rubbed off on me. I can't point to one thing
and say that is the reason I write.

When I was a child I was constantly making up stories to amuse myself and others. My
mom would hear me talking in the next room. When she came in, I had my stuffed animals
in a circle around me. She asked what I was doing and I would reply that I was telling
them a story. She would leave and stand just outside the door and I continued telling the
story. But it was never one she told to me or one that someone-else told me. Sometimes
she looked out the window and I had two or three of our cats or dogs lined up in front
of me, telling them a story. I guess I just had a very active imagination.

When I got to be a teenager, I wrote horrible poetry and dreadful short stories. Just the
normal depressed, nobody understands me stuff that most teenagers write. It was just
easier to put my emotions down on paper. I was very shy and withdrawn back then. It
was my way of working out my problems. And I had too many to count back then.

Then came a long period where I didn't write. I felt my words were meaningless and
it didn't matter what I had to say. It was a very hard time in my life. I thought I had to
focus on a real job and I didn't have the time for writing. I got so caught up in surviving
that I cut myself off from the thing that made life bearable. I cast away a part of myself.

Only recently have I started writing again. It makes me happy. My life may not be the
greatest. Truthfully, it sucks right now. But when I write, I am free. For a little while, I
am in control. I can pour everything into my writing. All my fear, shame, sorrow and
pain go into words. I don't have to be strong and hopeful. My characters are all  parts
of me. So they all have flaws, just as I do. But they can do things I can't. So I live
through them just as they live because of me. Some are more like me than others. My
heroes are usually what I want to be like. Other characters are how I could have turned
out if I made different choices or took another road. But they all have a bit of me in them.

There are many different reasons why I write. But the one that makes the most sense to
me is that I have to. It is a part of me. Denying it just makes me miserable. I write because
it makes me whole. I can not ignore the words and stories that form in my mind. So I sit
and I write. Because I am a writer and that is what I do.

Ifs and Should Have Beens-Chapter 5

**** I do not own Merlin or any of the characters from Merlin. This story is strictly for
         entertainment, not for profit****

     Gwaine took a deep breath and tried to collect his racing thoughts as the guard
announced his arrival to King Thomas. Arthur, Merlin and the other knights were still a
day's ride from Tameria. Arthur had been surprised when he asked to ride ahead and tell
King Thomas that they were close but had granted his consent with a wry grin. The guard
returned and motioned for Gwaine to enter the throne room. Gwaine was startled to see
Aurora standing by her father's side. She smiled at him, radiant with an inner peace that she
had not possessed the last time he saw her. 

     "Welcome Gwaine," Aurora said with laughter in her voice. "Or should I say Sir Gwaine?
Your status has improved since we last met. That makes me wonder what else has changed
about you. I never thought you wished to become a knight. I sense much has changed."

     "My becoming a knight is one of the things I wish to speak with your father about,"
Gwaine replied solemnly. "Arthur and the other knights will be here tomorrow. If we may
speak in private, King Thomas? There are delicate matters I need to discuss with you."

     "You may say what you wish in front of my daughter," King Thomas answered. "I have
come to understand that the two of you know each other much better than I thought."

     "We talked often when I was here before," Gwaine said with shock and concern warring
in his eyes. "I may have kissed her hand a few times but nothing more serious than that. I
hope that you don't think that I tried to harm her or force myself on her. I would never-"

     "Calm yourself," Aurora interrupted. "He is just having some fun with you. My father and
I recently had a nice long talk. We are finally where we should have been for so long. He
knows about my training with his knights and has allowed me to continue as before. We
are closer than we have ever been. We talk every day now. He even asks my oppinion on
matters of state. He even knows what a fool I was the last time you were here."

     "You were not a fool," Gwaine replied with a shake of his head. "I was the fool. Asking
you to leave all of this behind and run away with me. I had nothing to give you and no idea
how I was going to make a living. I was crazy to think that you would follow me as I went
from village to village. That's no way to live. You were right. I needed to grow up."

    "Oh Gwaine," Aurora said softly as she crossed to him and took his hand. "I was a fool
for saying that. I was scared and confused. In my heart, I loved you. But I was scared of
being hurt. You gave me your heart and I tossed it back at you. Please forgive me. I have
regretted that every moment since you have been gone. I was such a little idiot."

     "No," Gwaine answered, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. "You
were right. I was not worthy of you then. I can only hope that you find me worthy now."

     He claimed her lips in a soft gentle kiss. Aurora threw her arms around his neck and
pulled him closer. They stayed locked in their embrace for several minutes, neither
wanting the kiss to end. Finally, King Thomas cleared his throat and they sprang apart.

     "I believe you had some things to discuss with me," he said as he gazed at Gwaine.
"What are they? Do any of them concern my daughter?"

     "We will have to talk of that later," Gwaine replied. "King Arthur does not know who
my father was. He believes I am just a drifter that is good with a sword. I wanted to ask
you not to tell him. I earned my knighthood by serving him loyally. I don't wish my past to
be dragged into it. Maybe one day I will tell him, but for now I want things to remain as
they are. Would you grant me the boon of not telling him?

     "Of course," King Thomas answered. "But I don't understand why you don't want him
to know. Your father was a great man and wonderful knight. You should be proud of that.
You shouldn't feel the need to hide who you are."

     "Father," Aurora said softly. "Gwaine has his reasons. We must respect them. We will
keep your secret Gwaine. When and if you tell King Arthur is up to you. Is there anything
else you wish to ask?"

     "Not right now," Gwaine replied as he stared into her eyes. "The rest can keep until
morning. I have ridden far today and I find myself in need of a bed. Is there one here
or shall I go to the inn?"

     "You silly man," Aurora laughed as she swatted Gwaine's arm. "Of course there is
a room ready for you. Is it alright for me to show him where it is?"

      Her father nodded with a smile. She smiled back and placed her arm in Gwaine's.
Talking together and laughing, they exited the room, already lost in a world of their own.
King Thomas shook his head and laughed. It appeared as if his youngest daughter had
made her choice. Now if only the other two would be so easy to please.

Brother vs. Sister

 First of all, let me say that I love my brother. He is two years younger than me and if
anyone messes with or hurts him, that person is going to wind up in the hospital. And I
will be in jail screaming, "That's what you get for messing with my little brother!" I use the
term "little brother" loosely because he is a good foot and a half taller than me and also
out weights me by about sixty pounds. He's basically a brick wall and doesn't need my
protection. However, he is my brother and I would fight to the death for him.

That being said, it still amazes me that we didn't manage to kill each other when we
were children. We got into at least one fight every single day. I'm not talking just name-
calling. I mean punching, kicking, biting, tear your eyes out fights. Our mom would get
nervous if we went more than two or three days without fighting. She knew that the next
fight was going to be a destroy the room, bloody mess. We became quite good at not
making loud noises while we fought, because we knew that would bring Mom into it.
Then we would have to listen as she yelled at us for fighting and then get punished for
the fighting. So we became very good at stealth fighting.

My brother and I both had horrible tempers when we were younger. We both knew
how to push each other's buttons. Our fights were pretty even until he started growing
taller and I basically stayed the same size. And he was diagnosed as being hyperactive
or having ADD. Then they gave him Ritalin to calm him down. It did not calm him down.
It made him grumpy and very bad tempered. I felt like was living with the Incredible
Hulk and I was his punching bag. The day they took him off those pills was one of the
happiest days of my life. And let's not forget his wrestling phase. I assure you that a
figure-four leg lock hurts a lot. I never knew when he was going to come up behind me
and put me in a Full or Half Nelson and tell me that I had to break out of it because
it could save my life one day. The martial arts phase was not that bad because when
he tried the high kick, I just grabbed his leg and flipped him to the ground. At least I did
until he learned to counter that. To this day, I don't know how he managed to do that.

I was not a sweet little angel that was always getting my ass kicked. I gave as good as
I got. No punches were pulled and we both fought to win. Neither of us gave or asked
for any quarter. The only rule was the first to scream uncle was the loser.

Somehow, we made through our childhood alive. The fights gradually stopped and
we called a truce. Now there is nothing we won't do for each other. We managed
to learn to control our tempers but we are still very good at pushing each others
buttons. But we never hang up the phone or part without saying "I love you" to
each other. He is my strongest ally and to get to him, you have to go through me
first. The brother-sister bond is strong with us. And we wouldn't have it any other way.

Lessons Learned From the Pack

When I was a child I didn't have many friends. At least not among other children. I was
a very shy and quiet person. To say I had trust issues would be an understatement. Loud
people and fighting, not including the daily brawls I got into with my brother, made me run
the other way. My favorite thing to do was to find a nice secluded place and read. Since
I had a very active imagination, you would most likely find me daydreaming or making up
stories of my own. To most children my age, I was too quiet and serious. To me, they
were too noisy and mean. I got picked on a lot because I was smaller and different from
the others. Children can be very mean to those that don't fit in.

My family loved animals. We always had dogs and cats. Usually, there was at least one
litter of kittens or puppies. I have been drawn to animals my whole life. To tell the truth,
I have spent most of my life surrounded by them. The outdoor animals were my main
chore when I was little. I fed and watered them, cleaned up their spaces, made sure
they were ok. I spent more time with them than with the humans in my life. They were
my friends and they never let me down. They taught me so much.

They taught me that true friends don't need to say a word. You can just spend hours
together, not really doing anything, just enjoying being together. I learned friends will
be there for you through thick and thin. When I had been picked on at school or I
felt like I would never fit in, I poured my problems out to them. They would sit there
and listen, concern and understanding shining in their eyes. That taught me that listening
was sometimes more important than talking. There will be times a friend doesn't need
or want you to say anything, they just need to get things off of their chests.

They taught me to always be glad to see someone I loved. I learned to tell and show
the people I cared about that I loved them every chance I got. Every time I went to
the backyard, I knew that I was loved. I learned that family protects their own. One
day one of the neighborhood dogs wandered into the yard and started a fight with
one of our smaller dogs. I heard the fighting and ran out the door to see what was
happening. Before I could reach them, our "guard cat" had jumped onto the other
dog's head and started attacking. She fought like a little fury and the other dog ran
away with her clinging to his back. A few minutes later the cat come back and
nudged our dog, as if to let him know the danger was gone. Luckily he was not
badly hurt and he got to his feet. The cat sniffed him and then went on her way.
The other dog never entered our yard again.

The most important lesson the animals taught me was that birth and death were a
part of life. I watched many dogs and cats being born into this world. When I was
six, I saw the first dog I claimed as "mine" being born. She was the runt and I have
always chosen the runt of the litter. Runts are almost always the one with the biggest
personality. They are just my favorites. Ten years later, I held my precious baby in
my lap as she took her last breaths. Rocking her, I sang to her and thanked her for
all the joy she brought into my life. Quietly and peacefully, she passed out of my life,
taking a piece of my heart with her. I fought when they tried to take her out of my
arms, not wanting to let her go. I wouldn't let anyone-else dig her grave. I  choose
a spot under the cherry tree where we had spent so many lovely moments. Even
today, I cry when I think about her. But I also smile, remembering all that we shared.
Death is painful but time does ease the pain. For the longest time, I did not want
another dog. I didn't want to feel that heartbreak again. Then one day, I looked
into eyes that were so much like hers and my heart melted. Right now, the owner
of those eyes is curled up on my bed fast asleep. I love her just as much and I
know I'll miss her when she's gone. But I also know that another little bundle of
fur will come along and steal my heart.

Morgana's Revenge

***This is dedicated to TeamMerthur. I made a promise and I always try to keep my
       promises. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for always being there for me. As always,
       I do not own Merlin or any of the characters. This story is just for entertainment, not
       for profit. Sorry Gwen, but a promise is a promise. ***


     Morgana crept into Gwen's chambers and closed the door softly behind her. She
walked swiftly to the table beside the bed. Reaching into the folds of her blood-red cape,
she withdrew a bottle of wine and a note. Placing them on the table, she pulled a small
bottle out of her pocket and removed the lid. She placed the lid on the table, along with
the bottle. Picking up the wine bottle, she deftly removed the cork. She exchanged the
cork for the small bottle on the table. Carefully, she poured the contents of the small
bottle into the wine bottle. Replacing the cork firmly in the wine bottle, she shook the
bottle up and down to help the poison blend with the wine. She smirked and put the
wine on the table. Pocketing the small bottle, she then turned and picked up the note.

     "My dearest Gwen," the note read. "I hope you enjoy this wine that I picked for you.
It is a sweet and subtle wine that has just a hint of strawberries to it. It reminds me of
your kisses. Please drink a glass before you go to sleep, as I shall do the same. All my
love, Arthur."

     "The poor girl won't be able to help herself," Morgana smugly thought to herself.
"After all the trouble she and Arthur have had in their romance, she will be overjoyed at
this sign of his love. This has to work. Having Arthur find her with Lancelot went nowhere.
And turning her into a deer was a disaster. I cannot have her be Camelot's Queen when
the throne belongs to me. I may have hardened Arthur's heart toward her for a short
time, but he is already falling back in love with her. Curse her! And curse that meddling
Merlin! I know he speaks for her. If only he didn't spend so much time with Arthur, I
would take care of him also."

     Footsteps echoed in the hallway and Morgana hurried to hide under the bed. Gwen
entered the room and went behind the screen to change into her nightgown. She took
her time, humming to herself all the while. Morgana rolled her eyes and willed Gwen to
hurry up. Finally, Gwen emerged from behind the screen. She walked to her bed and
paused when she saw the wine. She frowned in puzzlement as she picked up the letter.
Her frown turned into a radiant smile as she read the words on the paper.

     "Oh, Arthur," Gwen sighed as she picked up a goblet that was on the table. "At last,
your heart is softening toward me. Of course I will drink some of this wine before bed.
Maybe we will be drinking at the same time. I only hope this is a sign of better times."

     Morgana had to force herself not to laugh at Gwen's words. "For me, perhaps," she
thought to herself as Gwen poured the wine and drank. Placing the cup on the table,
Gwen pulled back the covers and got into bed. Time seemed to stop for Morgana as
she waited for the poison to take effect. After several long and agonizing minutes, she
heard strangled grunts and muffled screams coming from the bed. The whole bed shook
as Gwen suffered her death throes. Morgana scrambled from under the bed and stood
gazing at Gwen's convulsing body. Tears ran down Gwen's terror filled face. Morgana
smiled cruelly as Gwen began to turn purple. Gwen's eyes landed on Morgana and she
fought to scream but to no avail. Morgana laughed softly as recognition and horror filled
Gwen's eyes as Gwen felt her life leave her body. Finally, Gwen was still, her open eyes
fixed on her killer. Morgana smirked to herself in victory.

     Morgana leaned over and closed Gwen's eyelids. She rearranged the bedclothes and
moved Gwen into a position that mocked sleep. Looking around, she removed the note
she had left for Gwen and replaced it with another. Quickly, she gathered her cloak and
left the room. Her only regret was that she would not see her brother's face when he
found his beloved Gwen in the morning.

     "My dearest Arthur," the note read. "I cannot take it any longer. The shame I feel over
betraying you has become to much to bear. The loss of your love has broke my heart and
I have brought shame to you and Camelot. I know now that I can never regain your love
or trust. I blame myself for this and so I have chosen to end my life. I only ask that you
look after my brother and do not shun him for the actions of his foolish sister. What we
had together was real and true but I tossed it all away. I hope that one day you will be able
to forgive me. I know you will be a great and wonderful King, but you cannot do that with
me by your side. Please have a good life. The woman that you choose as your Queen will
be very lucky. I love you, Gwen."

     This simple slip of paper lay innocently on the table. It would be the source of great
mourning and sorrow. But it would not be the end of Arthur's tale. Or that of the steadfast
friend and powerful sorcerer that stood beside him. That sorcerer's name? Merlin.

The Most Important Lesson I Have Learned

My young cousin recently asked me what the most important lesson I have learned in
my life is. She threw me off-guard because I don't think I'm so old that I should be asked
that question. But I guess I'm old enough in her eyes. So I thought for a few minutes and
then gave her my answer which is kind of a two part answer.

First of all, I have learned you can't please everyone all the time. Or even most of the
time. It is pointless to try. You will just drive yourself  mad and become a very unhappy
and bitter person. Does that mean I don't try to please people or make them happy? Nope.
It just means I don't run myself ragged try to please everyone. It also means I don't base
my happiness on pleasing people. I try to base my actions on doing the right thing and on
doing things that won't drive me crazy. In the end, it is I that will have to answer for what
I have done in this life. I can't hide behind someone-else and say I did this and that to
make them happy or to please them. My life got a lot less complicated when I learned that.

The second part is that in order to be loved, you must first love yourself. So many of us
don't like ourself and we seek to hide this from those around us. We put up walls and wear
masks to make people love us. We basically lose ourselves by acting or becoming the
person we think other people want us to be. From a large part of my life, this was how
I lived. I hated the person I saw in the mirror. I was too short and fat. I was ugly and stupid.
I didn't want to open myself up to pain and ridicule, so I tried to be or act the way I thought
other wanted me to. My life was miserable. Luckily, I had some friends that saw beyound
the mask. They helped me to break down the walls and to see myself as special. It took
a very long time, and truthfully I am still working on it. I am a work in process. But I can
see that I am a good person. I am funny and caring. Some days I even think I might be
pretty. I have come to love myself, flaws and all. And I am finding that the friends I make
now are true friends. Because I don't hide who I am and they can see the real me. That is
a good feeling.

How I Choose to Treat Others

***Warning--This post will have some thoughts on religion in it. If religion is a touchy
       subject with you, please do not read it. I am not a pastor or preacher. I did not go
       to school to study religion and it is not my life's calling. This is just my viewpoint. If
       it bothers you, I am sorry. Like I said it is just how I feel.***

A friend of mine was upset today over some comments that were made to her. She was
being judged not on who she was but because of her religion. This is one thing I can't
stand. Not just the religion thing. But judging a person for their sex, race,age,nationality,
religion,sexual preference, etc is wrong. And to hate them for one of those reasons is
just stupid. You don't even know the person and you are judging them for a superficial
reason. This person could be one of the most amazing people that ever has lived and you
reject them for such a shallow reason. This is faulty thinking in my point of view.

I was taught not to judge people at first glance. I believe in treating people the way you
want to be treated. I did not grow up in a church going house. We believed in God and
tried to live good lives. As I grew older, I did join a church. A split in the church caused
me to step back and examine religion. Even christians can get caught up in fighting over
the craziest things. Too much importance gets placed on the trivial and focus gets drawn
away from the words we are to live by. I began to study my bible and go deeper into
clearer understanding of the words and the world. After a few years, I found another
church and I am happier there.

In my studies, I was drawn to certain things. We are told that two things are vital to our
journey in this world. The first thing is that we are to love God with all our heart, mind
and soul. The second thing is that we are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.
Neighbor doesn't just mean the people that live around you. It means every other
person on this planet. And it doesn't say to love them as long as they are just like you
and do the things you approve of. It says to love them as love love yourself. Watching
some people and how they treat others, I find myself thinking that they must really hate
themselves. To me, loving someone means you love them no matter what. Very hard
concept for some people to grasp. I may not like some of your actions or choices but
I still love you. I know that sounds naive and trite but it is how I choose to live my life.
There have been a lot of people that have hurt me in one way or another.It could have
made me a bitter and hateful person, but I choose to let those things make me stronger.
Because my stepfather abused me, I could hate all men because they are men. But I do
not. Because the woman that gave birth to me let he abuse me, I could hate all women.
I don't because I made the choice not to harden my heart. I am not going to say that I
have never hated them, because for a large part of my life I did. I wished they would
both have to go through the pain I went through. Then one day, I realised that hating
them just hurt me. They didn't care if I hated them. All I was doing was letting that
hatred bind me in chains. It shadowed every part of my life. Every relationship I had
was tainted by that hatred. I judged people based on what they had done to me.

So I made the choice to forgive them. And in forgiving them, I set myself free. It was
not easy. I have had to teach myself not to judge others when I  first meet them. I
had to change my way of thinking. Instead of approaching people with my guard up,
I had to learn to offer them a handshake and an open heart. Do I get hurt by doing this?
Yes. But I get stronger each day. I still am cautious about revealing some things to
other people. I'm working on that. But that won't stop me from loving every person I
come in contact with. It is not for me to judge others. I may not like some of the things
they do or say, but I still must love them. Rewarding hatred with hatred just breeds more
hatred. There is enough of that in the world and I do not want to add to that. I just try
to live my life, hoping to help all that I can. Hopefully, I make people's lives better as I
pass through. That is all we can hope to do. If everyone did treat others the way that
they wanted to be treated, I think this world would be a much better place.

****I hope I haven't offended too many people with this. I try not to stir the pot, but
        like I said, I can't stand to see someone judged for what they are and not who
        they are. Please forgive me if I have offended you. That was not my goal.****

Kidnapping Gwaine

***This story is in honour of Eoin Macken's birthday. I can't draw or sing. And I've never
      been good at writing poems so here is this silly little story. Gwaine has always been my
      favorite of the Camelot Knights and Eoin brings an interesting and entertaining take on
      the character. As always, I do not own Merlin or any of the Merlin characters. This
      story is not for profit, it is just for entertainment. I hope you enjoy and comment***



     "I still don't think this is a good idea," the young woman hissed to her six companions as
they lurked in the alleyway. "Surely there must be some other way to do this. I don't think
Sir Gwaine is going to be very happy with us."

     "Of course he's not going to be happy with us," the oldest, and shortest, of the seven
answered back. "We are basically kidnapping him. I know very few men that like to be
kidnapped, even if it is by seven lovely ladies. That's why we must make sure he's tied
up tight. And make sure we take all of his weapons. We've tried to get him alone but one
of the other knights is always with him. You know the Knight of Darkness said that Sir
Gwaine must come alone. And you know what will happen if he doesn't. We are just
lucky we managed to talk to Merlin and get him to help us. Now you three grab the other
end of this rope and run across the street to that other alley. When you hear Merlin, you
know what to do."

     Three of the young women grabbed the rope and scurried across the street. They let
the rope lie limp in the middle of the street. Each moment that passed was agony. Finally,
after what seemed like an eternity, they heard whistling and two men's voices. With their
eyes focused on the rope, they strained to hear the voices as they came closer.

     "This isn't the way to my quarters," Gwaine said in a slurred voice. "I don't know this
part of Camelot. Where are you taking me, Merlin?"

     "We are going the back way," Merlin replied as he rearranged Gwaine's arm around
his neck. "Remember Arthur telling you that if he saw you this drunk again he'd put you
in the stocks to learn your lesson? The other way passes right under Arthur's window. I
just don't want him to look out and see you. That's why we are taking this route."

     The two stumble on for a few paces before they come to the two alleys. Merlin eases
Gwaine's arm from around his neck. "Now!" Merlin shouts as he pushes his friend forward.
The rope is jerked tight, effectively tripping Gwaine. The seven young women hurriedly
wrap the rope around the now unconscious knight, quickly tying him up. They surround his
body and acting together, they move him into an abandoned house nearby. Once inside,
they securely tie Gwaine to a sturdy chair as Merlin hovers close by. They settle in to wait
from Gwaine to wake up. Slowly he comes to and stares around in confusion.

     "What the hell just happened?" Gwaine yelled as he struggled to free himself. He sees
Merlin and the seven young ladies staring at him from across the room. "Merlin! What is
the meaning of this? And who are they? Did you help them do this?"

     "Yes, I did," Merlin firmly answered. "You know I'm your friend. I would never let
anyone harm you but they have tried to get you alone and failed. These are good people
and they need your help. I vouch for them, Gwaine. I give you my word that they just
need your help. I know Tamsin from my village.we used to play together when we were
younger. She moved and her village desperately needs your help."

     "Please, Sir Gwaine," a dusky skinned woman with long black hair came forth. "We
tried to get you alone but one of the other knights was always with you."

      "We would never try to harm you," the youngest said as she came to stand by her
friend. Her long blond hair shone in the candlelight and her face was that of an cherub.

     "We couldn't go to Arthur," a tall dark haired beauty said as she stepped forward.
"It was forbidden by the Knight of Darkness." Her blue eyes glistened with tears.

     "He holds our village hostage," said the woman with sandy-blond hair and sky-
blue eyes as she moved to stand beside the others.

     "All of our mothers and the little children will be killed if you don't come," said a woman
with dark hair and  a warm caring face as she took her place in the line of women.

     "If you don't help us, nobody can," said a woman with long auburn hair as her grey-blue
eyes pleaded with Gwaine. He looked down as the plea in those eyes touched his heart.
Raising his head, his eyes were drawn to the petite woman standing next to Merlin. She
lifted her head, her steel grey eyes boring into him. The woman tossed her shoulder lenght
brown hair defiantly. Her gaze softened as she stared at the other women and she came to
stand in front of the chair that Gwaine was tied to. She bowed her head humbly.

     "They have told you most of our story," she said softly. "We come from a small village
two days ride from here. Every year at this time, the men go to the coast to trade with a
village there. They are gone for about a month. It has been two weeks since they left. Five
days ago, while we slept, the Knight of Darkness came with his men and captured us. He
has gathered all the children together in one house. All the old women are in another. So
far, he has not let any of his men touch any of the young women. He said that he will let
the village go if we came to Camelot and delievered a challenge to Sir Gwaine. If you can
defeat him, everyone will go free. If you do not come in three days time, he will kill all of
us. And he said to tell you that we would suffer before we died. Suffer as only women can
at the hands of a man. You are to come alone or he will kill the children. Nobody-else
can know about this or we are all doomed. Please, Sir Gwaine, help us."

     Gwaine looked at the seven women. Even though they had gone about asking for his
help in the wrong way, he could not deny them. Their fear and pain pierced his heart and
he knew that he would fight to the death to free their village. His eyes met those of the
fiery woman that was clearly the leader. He nodded his consent and she moved behind
the chair to cut him free. She offered her hand to him to seal their bargin. Gwaine took
her small hand in his and knelt before her.

     "I pledge to do my best to free your village," he solemnly promised. "If your village
is two days ride from here and we must be there in three days, we must get moving.
Do you have the supplies we need to get there?" The woman nodded. "Good. Do you
wish to wait until morning or can you ride now?"

      "We are ready to ride," she replied. "But are you ready? Do you need to rest before
our journey? We can spare a few hours."

     "I've ridden in worse shape than this, " Gwaine said with a laugh. "I can get rest on the
road. Merlin make my excuses to Arthur. I'm sure you'll come up with something good,
you always do." Merlin nodded in answer. "Now ladies let us go save your village."

      The journey to the village was uneventful. Gwaine passed the time in conversation
with the seven women. They were all fasinating and witty. Most of the trip was passed
in laughter. The closer to village they got, the ladies became more nervous and withdrawn.
Finally, they reached the tiny village that lay nestled deep in the heart of the forrest.

     A massive knight, riding an impressive black horse, blocked the way into the village.
He carried a huge mace and his armour was black as midnight. His horse galloped toward
Gwaine. Gwaine drew his sword and braced himself for battle.

     "Well met, Sir Gwaine," the knight said as brought his horse to a stop several feet from
Gwaine. "I am glad to see that you accepted my challenge. I knew a village of helpless
females would get you to come."

     "Let's stop the chit-chat and get to the fighting," Gwaine said in an angry voice. "The
sooner I beat you, the sooner  these ladies go free and I can return to Camelot. How do
we decide the victor?"

     "It is a fight to the death," the other knight replied. "I can wait and let you rest from
your long journey, if you like. I wouldn't want people believing I won because you were
tired. That would be unknightly of me."

     "I am perfectly rested," Gwaine replied. "If I win how can I be sure your men won't
attack me? And that they will leave the village without harming the women?"

     "I have already sent most of my men home," the knight answered. "Check the village.
I only have two men left guarding the children. I have found women will do anything you
want them to if you have their children."

     Gwaine searched the village and found the knight to be true to his word. He made his
way back to the Knight of Darkness and gestured that he was ready. The black-clad
knight dismounted and the fight was joined. The battle raged back and forth for hours.
First Gwaine had the upper hand, but with a mighty blow of his mace,the Knight of
Darkness sent him flying backwards, Nimbly, Gwaine regained his footing, raining blow
after blow on his opponant. Gradually, he drove him backwards toward the cliff. With
one final blow, the Knight of Darkness toppled over the cliff, landing with a sickening
thud on the valley floor. His scream still echoed in the air as his knights came running.
Glancing over the cliff, they saw their leader lying motionless at the bottom. They threw
themselves at Gwaine's feet and kissed his hands in gratitude.

     "Thank you," they exclaimed. "A thousand thank yous, Sir Gwaine. We have been
under that evil man's spell for the last ten years. He would go from land to land, seeking
out thier best knight and challenging him to a duel. He would always capture a poor
village or town to lure them to fight. Nobody has ever beaten him. And we would always
have to slaughter the people. His spell made us do many things we never would have done
otherwise. Horrible things. Cruel things. You have freed us. Thank you!"

     "Thank you," the leader of the seven women said as she come to satnd beside Gwaine.
"You have kept your word and we will give you anything you ask for. Follow me and I
will take you to my sister. She is the leader while the men are away."

     She lead Gwaine to a tiny shack in the middle of the village. Knocking on the door, she
motioned from Gwaine to stand to the side. The door opened and a woman of incomparible
beauty stepped out. Her long hair flowed like a river down her back. The sunlight made her
hair glow, framing her face in a halo of light. Her eyes danced with warmth and wit. Gwaine
felt like he was in the presence of an angel. His heart raced and felt as if his tongue was numb.

     "They call me Cupid," Gwaine's angel said in a musical voice. "I have been told that you
saved us." Gwaine nodded, unable to speak. She laughed and it was like water flowing over
rocks in a stream. "Please come in. We have much to discuss. Your reward? We do not
have much but I'm sure we can find some way to pay you for your kindness."

     Gwaine followed numbly behind her. All he wanted at the moment was to be near her.
That was all the reward he needed. He doubted he'd be getting back to Camelot very soon.
Hopefully, Merlin would come up with a good excuse. He was good at those type of things.

  

Friends

We all need at least one person, besides our spouse and family, that we can share life with.
Now family is great, they are usually always there for you but they have to love you because
they are family. I love my family and I enjoy hanging out with them but not all the time. And,
truthfully, I'm sure they get sick of me. There are things I like that they just don't understand.
And that's fine with me. Some of the things they like I could care less about. Nothing wrong
with that. We are all made to be different and unique. That make life more interesting.

What about the person you love? It's good if you like a lot of the same things. A plus to the
relationship. But the chances are that you won't like all of the same things. If you do, you
have just married a clone of yourself and hopefully you will be very happy together. I have
found the best relationships are when two people compliment each other. Your strenghts
and weaknesses balance their strenghts and weaknesses. Once again, very unlikely that
you will like all of the same things. And if you like all the same things, you'll spend all of
your time together. Not a good thing. I love my other half but I don't want to be around
him every minute of the day. I need to get away from him sometimes and he enjoys the
peace and quiet when I am gone. Sometimes, he needs to get away from me. Not a
problem. I understand completely.

So who do you turn to when you need someone to share things with? When you want
to see a movie that nobody in your family wants to see? Or when you want to go hear
a band that your other half  can't stand? You guessed it, your friends. These are the
people that don't share your blood or your house but they love you anyway. They have
seen you at your worst and best. They are the ones you spend hours on the phone
with. Or they are the ones you haven't seen for awhile but you pick up your last talk
like you saw each other yesterday. Your friends build you up and also keep you humble.
You know their secrets and they know yours. They bail you out of jail at three in the
morning after you drank a bit too much and called the policeman some names you
shouldn't have. They are there for births and deaths. You know each others fondest
hopes and darkest fears. They are part of your life and they help make life better by
sharing it with you. Life without friends is bleak. I hope you all have someone like this.

My Dad is a Werewolf?

***This is a work of fiction. Some of the details may be taken from real life.
       I had a very vivid imagination as a child and unfortunately my poor brother
       was the victim of that. I'll leave it up to you to decide what is real and what
        is just part of the story. But this mostly fiction and I hope you like it***


The two children stood beside the queen-sized bed, staring down at the sleeping man. His
short greying hair stood out against his tan skin. His lips were slightly open, showing large
white teeth. Loud snores came from his nose as he breathed deeply. He slowly turned on
his side to face the children and they stepped back in fear that he would wake up. A small
sleep sigh escaped his lips and the children crept back closer to the bed.

"He's a werewolf," the girl whispered softly. "Look at the hair in his ears. And on the back
of his hands. He always sleeps during the day and he is never here at night. That's when he
goes looking for people to eat."

"Dad is not a werewolf," the boy replied in a hushed voice. "He's too nice to be a werewolf.
"He works at night. That's why he's never home. And Mom will tell us if he was a werewolf.
She'd never leave us alone with him if she thought he would eat us."

"You're only seven," the girl shot back. "What do you know? And maybe she doesn't know.
You don't really think he'd tell her about it, do you? Besides, I'm nine and I know a lot more
than you do. His job is just a cover for when the moon is full and he has to hunt."

"Then where does Dad get money from?" the boy asked. "Mom is here all day watching
us. She's doesn't have a job and if Dad is a werewolf, then where do they get the money
for food and stuff?"

"He does work at night," his sister replied as she rolled her eyes at him. "But he doesn't
go to work on the nights when there is a full moon. He calls in sick on those nights. Jeez,
try to think for once in your life. No wonder it was so easy for me to sell you to gypsies."

"You did not sell me to gypsies!" the boy exclaimed. "I asked her and she said you didn't.
You just made that up. And there are no gypsies in North Carolina!"

"Of course she's gonna say that," she replied. "She doesn't want to admit that she never
noticed you were gone. You were only four when I did it so you've forgotten all about
it. They were part of this real little fair that came through. A few days after we went to it,
you were really getting on my nerves. You were being your normal bratty self  and I
wished there was a way to get rid of you. Then, as if by magic, the gypsy caravan went
by the house. I ran after them and asked if they could use a smart and hard-working
little boy to train to help them in the fair. Well, they did and I ran back here to get you.
They offered you some candy and you were happy to go with them. I went back in the
house and Mom asked where you were. I told her you were playing in the front yard and
I had come back in to get a book. She was busy watching her soaps and told me to get
back out there and watch you. I went back out with my book and read it under the maple
tree. It was so peaceful with you gone. Then after about two hours, the gypsies came back
with you. You had thrown one of your fits and tore one of the carts apart. You really did
a number on it. They begged me to take you back. I said I just couldn't and that Mom was
happy with one less mouth to feed. Then they offered to pay me to take you back. I
hemmed and hawed about but agreed to take you back for a hundred dollars. Man, they
really laid tracks after getting rid of you."

"I still don't think Mom lied to me," he said hesitantly, unsure if she was telling the truth.
"She had to know I was gone. I was gone for two hours. And I would have told her."

 "We've gone over this before," the girl said with a sigh. "Mom was watching her soaps.
The house could burn down around her and she wouldn't notice while they are on. And
I gave you more candy and made you promise not to tell. Besides, you went with them
willingly. End of story. We are getting off track here. This is about Dad and the fact that
he is a werewolf. This is very important. What are we going to do?"

"I still don't think he is a werewolf," the boy said as he looked at the sleeping man. "Dad
is too nice. And he always gets us treats and takes us places. I don't think a werewolf
would do that. A werewolf would just eat us."

"You really don't know anything," the girl answered with a snort. "He's getting us to trust
him. Then it will be easier for him to catch us when he is ready to eat us. He won't have
to chase us because we trust him."

The bedroom door opened suddenly. The children sprang apart as a short black-headed
woman walked into the room. They shot guilty looks at the bed and turned to face her.
Quickly they tried to look innocent as she stared at them.

"What are you two doing in here?" the woman hissed. "I told you to stay out of this room
when your father is sleeping. He works hard to put a roof over your head and food on
the table. He needs his sleep. Now get out of here before I tan both of your behinds."

The children fled from the room. The woman gazed at her husband and pulled the blanket
over him. She placed a loving kiss on his forehead. Then she turned and left the room,
closing the door shut behind her.

Safe Up High

Sunlight poked through the leaves to fall on the open book in the young girl's lap.
Her long brown hair fell across her face as she devoured the words on the page.
Shining grey eyes danced behind large glasses as her imagination wove the words
into pictures. In her mind, she saw Arthur pull the sword from the stone and hold
it high above her head. Sunlight reflected off the blade and cast a halo of light
around the young king. With a delighted sigh, she rock backwards into open
air, almost tumbling out of her perch high above the ground. She clutched the
tree trunk with one hand and made a grab for her book with her other hand. Her
legs curled instinctively around the branch she was resting on. Quickly, she regained
her balance and settled back into the little spot where the branch and tree met.
It wasn't a large space, but it was just roomy enough for her to fit herself in and
be sure that she wouldn't easily fall. This was her favorite place in the world, her
safe and alone place. Adults wouldn't climb up after her and her bratty brother
preferred to roam the woods.

She gazed down at the world below her. the family dogs were all laying around at
their individual doghouses, waiting for feeding time. There was time to finish this chapter
before she had to climb down to feed them. Her eyes scanned the yard, looking for
any adults or her younger brother. The tree was her was her refuge, the only place that
she could find peace to read her books. In a sense, the tree was her friend. It held her
close as she stepped through the doorways of her books into distant lands. High above
the ground, she was free. All she had to do was open a book and she was transported
anywhere she wished to go. Sometimes, she made up her own stories where she slayed
dragons and saved the handsome prince. She broke spells and won kingdoms. In her
stories she was beautiful and powerful. She was courageous and never tripped over her
own feet or became tongue-tied. There was no enemy she couldn't defeat and no
problem she couldn't solve. If only she was like that in real life, it would be so much
easier. She wouldn't have to feel like a screw up all the time.

The girl leaned against the trunk of the tree and rested her head against the rough bark.
It scratched her face as she fought back tears. Maybe one day life would be easier. She
would have it all together and stop making so many mistakes. In the future, maybe she
would have a job she loved and a man who loved her. She would get far away from this
place and move to England or Ireland. One day she would be happy and no longer have
to feel like she didn't fit in. Surely she wouldn't feel this way forever.

Sighing, she shook her head ruefully. It was time to climb back down to the real world.
She eased out of her niche and tucked her book into the waistband of her shorts. Nimbly,
she scampered down the tree trunk until she came to a branch about five feet off of the
ground. Wrapping her hands around it, she swung for a few seconds in the air. Then she
let go and dropped to the ground. As her feet touched, she sprinted to the house to get
the bucket of dog food. Back to the real world, where dogs were hungry and she must
feed them.

Here But Gone

To watch a parent fade away before your eyes is an experience that I would not wish
on my worst enemy. I have already spoken about my Mom and how she has dementia.
I hate that word. I really hate that word. It doesn't convey the heartache and agony that
it brings. You don't come back from it. If you have it, you just slowly drift farther away
from your loved ones and you don't even know it. The bad days start to outnumber the
good days and then what used to be the bad days become the good days. I know what
is coming with Mom because I saw my great-grandfather go through this also. I was only
12 when he died but I remember him as a mostly silent man that always stood in the corner
and he asked the same joke over and over. I didn't get to know him as he was before the
strokes and dementia stole him from us. I'm told he was a wonderful man; hardworking,
strong, loving and wise. I wish I could have known that man.

Since I was adopted by my grandparents, I'm going through this about 20 or 30 years
before my friends will go through this.It makes it hard to be able to talk to anyone about
how I am feeling. I mostly bottle it up inside and try not to think about it very much. But
there are times I can't shut it out and it just washes over me like a raging river, sweeping
me along in it's path. This usually happens after I go visit her. So many emotions flood
my heart and mind that some just manage to seep out.

Sadness and hate are the two biggest emotions that torment me. I am sad that she has
to go through this. I hate that my dad has to watch his wife go through this after having
to watch his father being stolen away in the same way. My heart aches at the fact we
had to put her in a nursing home. I hate the fact that I can't take care of her the way she
took care of me for so many years. I am sad that when I look at my mom all I can see
is a shell of the person she used to be. I hate that the strong, intelligent, fierce woman
I have always known has been reduced to a mostly silent person that roams the halls
in her wheelchair. I hate the fact the the strokes robbed her of  her love of words. She
tries to talk but we can't understand most of it and that makes her frustrated. Then she
just shuts down and stares at the floor or goes to sleep. Most of all, I hate that I can't
fight this and save her. I wish I could just wave a magic wand or say some words and
she would be the way she was but life doesn't work like that.

I have so many regrets. I wish I wasn't such an unholy little terror when I was younger.
I put most of those grey hairs on her head. I wish I had been more grateful and had
showed her how much I loved her more than I did. As I grew older, I should have
visited more and not have been so caught up in my own life. I wish I had kids so
that they could have known her as she was and not as she is now. I wish I could
have done more with my life so she would be proud of me. She always told me that
I could be anything if I just tried hard enough. And here I am with no job and feeling
like I have wasted my life. She had faith and me and I feel like I let her down.

The worst part is that I know this can go on for years and years. She will slip away
ever so slowly and I am helpless to do anything to stop it. I'll become the nice
stranger that comes and visits her and nothing more.

Ifs and Should Have Beens- Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the Merlin characters, I merely borrowed them. This is just for
entertainment, this story is not for profit.


     "Arthur, what kind of clothes do you need to take to Tameria?" Merlin asked as he dug through
Arthur's wardrobe. "I have never heard of it before. What is the weather like this time of year? Is it
warm or cold? Does it rain a lot or is it always sunny? Will there be snow? So many options and I
really need to know so I can pack."

     "Calm down, Merlin," Arthur replied. "I've never been there myself. All I have to go by are the
stories my father told me. King Thomas helped him to win Camelot. My father rewarded him with
the kingdom to the east of Tameria. It doubled his lands. King Thomas used to visit often when I
was a child but stopped after his wife died in childbirth. They say her death left him a broken man."

     "He didn't look too broken when I saw him," Gwaine remarked as he walked into Arthur's
chambers. "Maybe distracted and full of himself, but not broken. And the weather is very nice this
time of year. Somewhat cold at night but mild and sunny during the day. The rainy season is still a
month or so away. That should help you with your packing Merlin. Arthur, why are we going to
Tameria? It takes a week and a half to get there and there is nothing to do when you get there.
Very boring place."

     "Meaning that there are no taverns," Arthur wryly grinned. "I am going to renew and bolster
old ties. King Thomas was a good friend to my father and he could be a valuable ally to me. It
never hurts to have allies and his kingdom is on the coast and could be strategic in the future."

     "I don't see why you feel you have to take most of your knights along," Gwaine sulkily replied.
"You don't need all of us. You can make do with Leon and Percival. Let me stay behind with
Elyan. He could use my help. What if something happens while you are away? Elyan will need my
help. I sense that there is something you are not telling us. You have a hidden agenda."

     "Elyan will be fine," Arthur said firmly. He has plenty of knights he can call on for help. I merely
wish for King Thomas to see that I have fine and loyal knights at my disposal. You, Leon and
Percival are the best examples of this. I don't know why you would think I have a hidden agenda."

     "It wouldn't have to do with King Thomas' three daughters?" Gwaine asked as he searched
Arthur's face. "Three of your best knights and three daughters? What better way to make an ally
than to make a marriage between one of them and one of your knights? Would you use us in such
a way? I should have known! You can't trust a noble!"

     "Now, Gwaine," Merlin said soothingly as he emerged from the wardrobe. "I'm sure Arthur
would never do anything like that. He knows what it is like to be used as a bargaining chip. Arthur
respects his knights too much to use them in such a way. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

     "Well," Arthur replied as he looked at the floor. "Percival and Leon are open to the idea. And
I was going to talk to you about it on the ride there, Gwaine. The princesses are said to be quite
lovely and well-mannered. They would be a good catch for any man. Nothing is definite. This visit
is just so you can meet them and get to know them. If any of you like each other, then things can
proceed from there."

     "I have already met them," Gwaine replied angrily. "Grace and Charlotte are beautiful and lovely.
Leon and Percival would be lucky to have either one of them. They are too tame for me. As for
Princess Aurora, it will take a far better man than me to win her heart. I ask again to remain behind
with Elyan."

     "You have never wanted to stay behind before," Arthur remarked with amusement. "What
happened when you were in Tameria? You never said why you were there in the first place. There
is something you don't want us to know."

     "I helped King Thomas with some bandits," Gwaine replied defensively. "I was passing through
and  he needed help. I had nothing better to do and needed some money. They had a tournament
after the bandits were caught and I won it. King Thomas gave me some gold as a reward and I left
shortly after that. End of story. It was over two years ago.They most likely don't even remember me."

     "Somehow, I doubt that," Arthur said as he walked to the door. "But if that is your story, so be it.
I will not press you for more details. You will be coming to Tameria and that is an order. Case
closed. Now,  I am going to see Gwen. She will be staying behind as she is still feeling weak from
the fever that passed through Camelot last week. Luckily, Gaius was able to treat everyone and
no-one died. You're coming with me, Gwaine, if I have to knock you out and tie you to your horse.
That's my final word."

     Gwaine sighed and sat in one of the chairs at the table. He shook his head and then ran his
hand across his brow. He did not wish to go back to Tameria. Not now, not ever. His pride was
still wounded from his parting with Aurora. That woman had a way of striking a person's very
soul.

     "Gwaine, what is wrong?" Merlin asked as he crossed the room and sat across from Gwaine.
"I've never seen you like this. Why don't you want to go back to Tameria? It couldn't have been
that bad."

     "Merlin, if I tell you, this does not leave this room," Gwaine replied in a low voice. "You tell
Arthur none of this." Merlin nodded affirmatively. "I did help King Thomas fight and capture some
bandits that had been plaguing his kingdom. And I did win the tournament that was held after we
caught them. What I didn't tell Arthur was that I almost lost the tournament to Princess Aurora."
Merlin made a sound of disbelief. "I didn't know it was her at first. Only after I had knocked her
down and heard her gasp, did I know it was her. There were rumors that she trained with the
knights, but I did not believe them. I think the whole kingdom but her father and brother knows.
The knights pretend they don't know that it is her for her sake.And I can tell you that she fights
better than her brother. He was no challenge at all. I defeated him in a matter of minutes. Aurora
was my last opponent. I have seen very few people handle a sword like she does. I was very
hard pressed to beat her. If she had not tripped and fallen, I think she could have won.

     "You don't wish to go back because she almost beat you?" Merlin questioned. "But you sound
like you admire her. She sounds like someone that you would respect. I don't think that is the
reason you wish to avoid Tameria. What are you not telling me?"

     "Just give me a moment," Gwaine replied in an exasperated voice. "I was sitting in my tent after
the tournament, trying to process what had just happened. It was plain that she was hiding who she
was. She fought using the name Rormand of Asgaut. As I tried to solve this puzzle, the flap to the
tent was opened and she stepped in. She took off her helmet and thanked me for not betraying her
secret to her father. I  asked her why she hid who she was and she told me that her father would
banish her if he found out. We talked for a long time about many things. She told me about how
lonely she was and how her father acted like she didn't exist. We talked about how she trained
with the knights and how she loved fighting.Aurora is very intelligent and loves to read. She is also
a great storyteller and she had me laughing for most of the time we talked. By the time she left, I
could tell I was falling for her. She was everything I wished for.She was pretty, smart, funny, a
fighter. You don't find many women like her."

     "So what happened," Merlin asked, leaning forward in his chair. "Did her father find out about
you and run you out of the kingdom? Did he disapprove of you? Did you argue with Aurora?
What happened?"

     "I don't really know what happened," Gwaine solemnly answered. "After the tournament, King
Thomas invited me to stay in the castle as his honored guest. He introduced me to his daughters
and his son. Grace and Charlotte are very beautiful and would make excellent wives for Leon and
Percival but they don't hold a candle to Aurora. Her red hair shines in the sun and her eyes flash
with laughter. We spent many happy days together. We walked in the woods, rode horses, talked
and just enjoyed each other's company. We even fought each other when her father was out of
sight. She taught me that trick of how to relieve a man of his sword. After a few weeks, I felt the
need to move on. I asked Aurora if she'd marry me and come with me. She must have thought I
was joking because she laughed at me. Then she saw I was serious and told me that she was sorry
but she couldn't. I beg her and she still refused. I kept asking her why and she just shook her head.
I demanded an answer and she told me that I wasn't old enough for her. She told me that I was a
foolish boy that hadn't fully grown up yet. Then she turned and ran from me.  She broke my heart
and then ran away. I left that night and told myself that I would never return."

     "If you told Arthur, I'm sure he would understand," Merlin softly said. "He respects you too
much to ask you to go back there. You just need to explain to him."

     "No, Merlin!" Gwaine shouted. "I don't want anyone but you to know. How could the other
knights respect me if they knew? You are my closest friend and I know you won't think any less
of me. If I had been a knight back then, I could have gone and asked her father for her hand. But
I was a nobody and a coward. I should have fought for her but I turned and ran. She was right.
I wasn't worthy of her."

     "But you are a knight now," Merlin replied. "You can ask King Thomas for her hand. After all
you have been through, surely you are worthy of her. Any woman would be glad if you wanted her
for your wife."

     "But I only want Aurora," Gwaine said sadly. "I don't know if I'll ever be worthy of her. I doubt
any man could be worthy of her. I have to go pack. And not a word of this to anyone. Not to Gaius
or Gwen. No one, understand? I see you in the morning."

     Gwaine left the room, leaving Merlin sitting at the table. He felt sorry for his friend. Merlin couldn't
see how any woman could not love Gwaine. He made up his mind to help him if he could. He rose
from the table to finish packing Arthur's clothes. This trip was going to be very interesting.

  

Ifs and Should Have Beens- Chapter 3

     Aurora stopped pacing as the door to her room slowly opened. Her father stepped through,
propelled by a hand on his back. The hand left his back, grasped the doorknob and firmly shut
the door. King Thomas and Aurora stared at each other as if they were strangers meeting for the
first time. He broke contact first, turning to walk to a chair near the fireplace. Sitting, he gestured
toward the chair on the other side of the fireplace. Aurora thought about resisting him, but he was
her father. So she slowly walked across the room and gracefully dropped into the chair. She stared
at him, silently daring him to speak. The defiant lift to her chin brought the memory of when the king
had first meet her mother to his mind. She was the very image of her mother. A tear came unbidden
to his eye and he forced his thoughts back to the present.

     "It has come to my attention that you have been training with my knights," he said with a
disapproving tone. "You know that is forbidden. Apparently the whole kingdom but I and your
brother knew about this. Meaning you have caused my knights to break my laws as well. Can you
tell me why I should not banish you for doing so? And lock my knights in the stocks for aiding you
in your crime?"

     "I did not know that the knights knew!" Aurora exclaimed. "I thought I took such good care to
hide who I was from them. Please do not punish them for what I have done! As for what I have
done, do what you will! It is not like you care about me. And you would finally be rid of the
daughter you never wanted! I will not grovel and beg for forgiveness. I can take care of myself if I
have to."

     "I have no doubts that you can," her father answered softly. "You have won the hearts of my
people, much like your mother did when she first came here. It is my fault that I knew nothing about
this. I turned my back on you after your mother's death. You were just moments old and I hardened
my heart toward you. I wrapped myself in my grief when I should have seen the gift she bore me. I
focused on what I had lost and not what I still had. I was selfish and could not see that you had lost
her as well. I at least got to know her and love her. You lost your mother shortly after your first
breath. You never got to feel her arms around you or to know her love. Never did you get to hear
her lovely voice sing you to sleep. A mother's love was denied to you by her death. And I denied
you a father's love as well. No, you do not need to beg for my forgiveness. It is I that should beg
you for your forgiveness."

     The King knelt at Aurora's feet and tenderly took her hand in his. She stared at him with shock
and confusion in her eyes. He gazed at her with tears in his eyes. A silent plea shone in his eyes,
touching her wounded and broken heart. With a sob, she sank to her knees and embraced her
father. All the pain of her love-starved childhood came pouring out of her as tears flowed down
her face. She buried her face in her father's shoulder as he pulled her closer. His tears mingled with
hers as they shared the pain of losing one wonderful woman and all the years lost to them.
Wrapped together in their grief, time stopped. Each could feel the other's pain and they held each
other closer, trying to drive the pain away.

     "Why now?" Aurora questioned, raising her head to look at her father. "Why do you suddenly
care after all this time? All those wasted years when I needed you to love me. I spent so much time
trying to get you to look at me, touch me, love me. All I had to do was start training with the
knights? I have been doing that for three years now. What made you notice all of a sudden?"

     "Let us just say that your grandfather knocked some sense into me," he replied with a raised
eyebrow. "He could not hold his tongue any longer. His love of you won out over my being the
king. And I'm glad he finally said something to me. I was being a fool. I missed out on so much
of your life. He managed to raise you better than I could. From what he tells me, you are a very
amazing young woman. I see so much of your mother in you. You look just like her. That has
made it hard to look at you and I am sorry. I should have been the father you needed but I was
a coward. Every time I looked into your eyes I saw your mother. Instead of fighting the pain, I
gave into it and turned my back on everything that reminded me of her. Your brother and sisters
take after my side of the family, so I don't see much of her in them. But you are your mother's
daughter. Not just in looks, but you have her fire and love of knowledge also. But you are your
own person. Your grandfather says you have a love of animals. And that you spend days
roaming the forest. Bridget didn't like animals and hated the woods. He told me that you love to
tell stories and read. All she wanted to do was be a fighter. You are more well-rounded than she
was. I wish I could say I had something to do with that."

     "You could have," Aurora replied. "How do you know so much about me? I thought you did
not care if I lived or died. When we talked it was about the weather or if I needed new dresses.
You never asked me about what I wanted to be or how my day was. It was like you were too
busy for me."

     "Your grandfather gave me weekly reports about you," he said. "I admit I was a horrible
father. I have made so many mistakes. Hopefully, you will let me make that up to you. Will you
let me be the father I should have been to you? I will understand if you don't want anything to do
with me. I have treated you worse than I treat my enemies. Just tell me what you want me to do
and I will do it."

     "I want you to be my father," she answered as she looked into his eyes. "Show me that you
love me. Tell me that you love me. Ask me about my day and what I want to do. Let me show
you what I can do with a sword. Don't make me give up training with the knights. Tell me about
yourself. What plans do you have for me?"

     "First of all, you can continue training with the knights," the king answered. "I think they
would rebel if I ordered you to stop. No need for anything to change there. Secondly, I'll
answer any questions you have about me or your mother. Within reason, of course. We can
talk whenever you wish. I will try my best to be a better father to you. I have had several offers
for your hand in marriage, but the final choice shall be left up to you. The same goes for your
sisters. I know they think I'll just pick the men I want for them but it will be their choice. I have
plenty of land and allies. I could always use more of both but I would rather see my daughters
happy. Speaking of which, King Arthur of Camelot and some of his knights shall be here in a
fortnight. Maybe you or one of your sisters will find a match with one of his knights. What do
you think about that?"

     They talked long into the night about many things. The bond between father and daughter
began to grow and strengthen. When they finally parted to seek their beds, each was reluctant
to go. But we all must have rest and so they went their separate ways, knowing they would see
each other in the morning. Together, they had torn down the walls of hurt and pain. A bridge
had been built between them. So, snug in their beds, they each dreamed a fiery-haired woman
that smiled at them, happy that they had finally managed to work past the pain and find each other.

My Sanctuary

***** Some times you have ideas and they just flit through your mind. If you don't jot them down as

soon as you have them, they vanish, never to visit you again. Then there are the ideas that just will

not leave your head. You sit down to write a perfectly lovely little story and here comes that stray

idea, buzzing like an annoying fly in your mind. You do everything you can to make it leave but it

simply refuses to leave your mind until you bring it to life on the page. So here goes. It is a very

silly idea and my only defense is that I have a cold or the flu. Forgive me for this silly piece of fluff,

but don't say I didn't warn you. Proceed with caution. *****

     I sit at my computer, vainly trying to focus on the words in front of me. Its no use. Everything is

starting to blur together. I've lost track of the hours I've spent putting in job applications. My neck

is stiff and my back is cussing me out. After two months of the same thing, I'm starting to give up

hope. Jobs are hard to come by and most of those I see posted require a degree or experience.

Having never gone to college, that's one strike against me. Most of my jobs have been in retail,

another strike against me. Most of the retail jobs go to the younger people. They can pay them

less and give part-time hours, whereas I need full-time hours and some benefits.

     My head throbs and my chest feels like I swallowed a bag of cotton balls or steel wool pads.

The room starts to spin and I fall back into my chair. I hate feeling like this. Being sick just flat-out

sucks. I don't like not being in control of my body and that makes me a mean person to be around.

I am currently hiding from the other people in the house so I won't be a bitch to them. Normally, I

am the nicest person you will ever meet. But when I am sick, it is like a switch is flipped and I become

a totally different person. I don't like myself when I am sick and would leave if I could but I can't.

     Maybe a nice hot shower will make me feel better. It couldn't hurt. A nice hot shower where the
water is hot enough to melt the flesh off of my bones. Well, maybe not that hot but the bathroom will
be full of steam when I'm done. Yes, a shower seems like a very good idea right now. I walk out
of my bedroom and open the door to the bathroom. I enter into my sanctuary and lock the door behind me.

     I think the greatest invention of all time is indoor plumbing. I feel sorry for all the generations that did
not have it and am grateful I was born after this invention. Before indoor plumbing, you took a bath in
a ice-cold pond or river. Or you lugged countless buckets of water from the creek and waited for them
to heat up on the stove. Now you can just turn a knob and you have cold water. Turn another knob and
you have hot water. So simple, but we use it every day and never think about what a marvel it is.

     I take off my clothes and stepped into the shower, pulling the smiley-face shower curtain shut behind me.
Leaning down, I turn the knob for the cold water to where just a small trickle will come out. What the h*@#! Apparently, I didn't push the shower lever all the way down the last time I took a shower. Cold
water dripped onto my head as I hurriedly pushed the lever down. The water stopped falling on my head.
A small stream of water flowed from the faucet. I turned the hot water knob to full blast and let the water
heat up. Ah, there we go, just slightly under three-degree burn temperature. I pull the level up and stood to
let the water cascade over me.

     For me, one of life's greatest joys is a hot bath or shower. The water soothes me and calms me. As I
stand and let the water flow over me, the cares and worries of the day just melt away. I am alone and
peace surrounds me. The bills and concerns about money don't exist. As the water pounds my body, I'm
not worried about a job or where I'll come up with the money to go back to school to become a vet
tech assistant. My muscles relax under the velvet touch of the water and I can see my first novel with
my name on the cover. I see my mom healthy and as she was before the dementia claimed her and we
had to put her in a nursing home. My back arches as the spray hits the small of my back, heat kneading
the knot of tension that is centered there away. My world is simple and carefree for a few precious moments. I breathe in the steam and the congestion in my chest eases just a tiny bit. I stand under the
healing water until it begins to turn lukewarm. Then I turn the water off, careful to turn the shower lever to
the off position this time. I take a deep breath and exit the shower.

     I linger in the bathroom, not wanting to leave my sanctuary. Perched on the side of the bathtub, I let the steam flow into my lungs, breaking up some of the congestion. Using a fluffy tan towel I dry my body and pull on clean clothes. My head is somewhat clearer but I'm still not at 100%. I pull off the clothes I just put on and reach for my pj's. It may still be early but I think I'll call it an early night. My body cries for sleep and
for once, I will heed the call. I go into my bedroom and turn off the computer. The job search can continue tomorrow. Calm and relaxed from my shower, I seek my bed. I tumble in and pull the covers up to my neck. I curl up and closed my eyes. I'll pick my worries and cares tomorrow. Sleep steals over me and wings me far away.

****I hope this wasn't too silly. Some times my mind goes strange places and all I can do is follow. Feel free to comment on this piece.****

What Makes The World Go Around

People ask what makes the world go around. Some say money. Some say power.
There are many answers to this question. Ask 100 people and you'll get 100 answers.
My answer is love. I feel that love makes the world go around. All of our actions and
emotions stem from love or the lack of love.

Everyone wants to be loved and to love in return. When we close ourselves away from
love, we shut off a vital force that we need to live. Then we begin to hate others for not
loving us. Or, even worse, we become indifferent to the world around us. Love and hate
are two sides of the same coin. It takes passion to love and to hate. They are both
powerful emotions. Indifference is a lack of all emotion. When we become indifferent to
the world around us, we no longer care about anything. We can walk by people and not
care that they are suffering. The needs of others mean nothing to us because we have lost
the ability to feel. The world has gotten so offtrack and in chaos because people just don't
care any more.

When we are born, we have an inherent desire to be loved. It is not just a want, it is a need.
If we are lucky, we have people that meet and nurture that need. But far too often, there are
children that are beaten and tortured by the ones that are supposed to care for them. Even
worse, they are neglected and ignored, made to feel like they are worthless and don't matter.
So hatred starts to build and they search for ways to feel. Some grow up and abuse their
own kids or their spouses, causing the cycle to repeat for generations. Others fight for power
so they will never feel helpless again. And others try to amass wealth so they will never feel
hungry or have to want for anything ever again in their lives. Then there are the ones that build
walls and shut other people out so they won't have to be hurt again. They would rather feel
empty inside than risk feeling physical and emotional pain. So they drift through life, never
letting anyone close to them. They exist but they don't live. They eat, breathe and merely go
through the motions of living until they die and can leave this life behind them.

If you make it through childhood with a whole soul, having been loved and given the basic
skills and tools to survive, you are lucky. Then you go out into the world, hoping to find the
missing part of your soul. You search for that person that will complete you. That one person
that sees you and loves you just as you are. Thus the dating game begins. There are very few
people that find this special person early in life. We have all heard the tales of two people that
met when they were kids and loved each other their whole lives. Childhood and high school
sweethearts are very rare but they do happen. Too often, we change as we grow older and
the person you love one day becomes the person you can't stand the next day. Or they change
and you are no longer what they want. Life is cruel that way. So many of us continue the search,
having our hearts broken over and over again. And we do our share of breaking other peoples'
hearts also. The fact is our souls get battered and bruised during this time. Many of us try to
change to hold on to someone that we love. That seldom works and we only betray ourselves
when we do so. It is a miracle that any of us survive this time in our lives.

But the lucky ones find that special someone. Often you'll start off as friends and then one day
you look at each other and know that this is the person you want to grow old with. Some times
you'll just bump into each other and you find that you can't stop thinking about each other. Love
finds us in many different ways. For those of us fortunate to find it, we grab on with both hands
and never let go. Many times we may love somebody but we are not able to live with them.
That kind of love leaves a special scar. We may marry a person and not be able to make the
differences work. Hard times may befall us and instead of coming together we drift apart. Each
failed relationship takes a bit of our hearts and souls. Then we turn to our careers or our hobbies
to fill the void in our lives. Some of us draw inward, not wanting to feel the pain of rejection again.
We live in our own world, shut off from others, not wanting to be hurt again.

Love is the most powerful emotion there is. Without love, a soul cannot come into its full potential.
We live blighted and empty lives, yearning for that which we do not have. Love, or a lack of love,
is what makes this world go around. Every person has the ability to love and show love to others.
If we all loved the other people we share this planet with, this world would be so much better.
You cannot make someone love you, but you have the power to love them. If only we all used
this power more, how different would our world be?

Ifs and Should Have Beens- Chapter 2

     The door to the throne room burst open and a guard stumbled backwards into the room.
He hurriedly retreated before the old man as he angrily strode in. The guard hastily turned and
rushed to where the King sat on his throne. The old man's blue robes flowed around him like
an angry river. His blue eyes flashed with purpose as he advanced toward the throne.

     "I tried to stop him, Sire," the guard stammered. "I told him you were talking to the Princesses.
He said that he did not care and he had urgent matters to discuss with you. Then he just barged his
way in. Forgive me for failing you, Sire." The guard knelt and bowed his head in submission.

     "Oh, do get up, Scott," the king said with a wave of his hand. "My father does things his own
way. When he is focused on something, it is hard to stop him. You are dismissed. Go and guard the
door. And this time, don't let anyone in."

      The guard flew from the room, bowing to the two princesses standing in the corner. The taller
of the two shot him a smile of encouragement. The other princess hid a grin behind her hand. They
shared an amused glance as the door closed behind the hapless guard.

     "What is it that you wished to see me about?" the king asked his father. "I was just telling Grace
and Charlotte about the offers I have for their hands in marriage. Quite a few good matches, if I
do say so. They will both be well taken care of. And I will gain two powerful allies, no matter which
match strikes their fancy."

     The princesses rolled their eyes at each other. They knew their father loved them but it would not
be their choice as to whom they would marry. Their only hope was that the men they would marry
wouldn't be too old and didn't beat them. Princesses didn't marry for love, they married for duty.

     "That is all well and good," the old man answered. "But what about Aurora? Have you given any
thought to her future? She deserves a good match also. Or do you even care? You do know you
have three  daughters, don't you?"

     "Choose your next words carefully," the king replied in a warning voice. "You are my father and
I respect you, so I give you leeway but there is a limit. Be careful that you don't cross the line."

     "I beg your pardon," the old man said sarcastically as he bowed low. "I would not dare to raise
your ire, but my granddaughter suffers at your hands. She thinks you find her ugly and lacking the
refinements of her sisters." He waved a hand at the two girls. "She thinks you would not care if she
dropped off the face of the earth. And that you blame her for the death of her mother."

     "How can she think that?" the king asked in a subdued voice. "I don't blame her for Bridget's
death. Many women die in childbirth. I think every woman fears she may not survive the birth of
her child. And why has Aurora never told me this herself?"

     "I think I can answer that," the tall princess said as she crossed the room to her father's side.
"You do treat her different. You never look at her. When she talks to you, you don't pay attention
to what she is saying. Do you even know she dresses up as a squire and trains with the knights?
They don't let her know that they know who she is of course."
 
     "Grace, I don't think you should have told him that," the other princess said as she crossed the
room. "You are just going to get her in trouble. Training with the knights is the only happiness our
sister has in her life. Don't get that taken away from her."

     "Be quiet, Charlotte," Grace retorted with a toss of her long dark hair. "The knights didn't know
who she was at first. They pressed her hard, like they do to every new squire. She held her own
and began winning matches. When Grandfather found out and told them who she was, they were
going to back down. Then Sir James challenged her to fight. He won but not by much. Aurora won
his respect and he is her champion. He told the other knights that he would discharge them if them
started to treat her differently. One by one, she won their respect. They don't pull any punches with
her. She has fought all of them and beaten most of them. William cannot say that. They treat him
as if he is the heir to the crown. Aurora can fight better than William. Mother would be proud."

     "Why am I the last to know about this?" the king exploded in a rage. "Father, how could you
let this go on? And why didn't you tell me about this?" he directed at the princesses as he began
to pace the room. "I have given that child everything she needs. I clothe her, I feed her, I keep
a very nice roof over her head. And how does she repay me? By dressing as boy and playing
at being a knight! If the other kings found out, I'll be a laughingstock. They would never respect
a king that cannot keep his daughter in line. The marriage offers will dry up. Nobody will want
their son to marry the sister of a girl that fights like a man. The kingdom will be ruined."

     "Just listen to yourself," the old man admonished the king. "All your fears are for you and
the kingdom. Or for Grace and Charlotte. What about Aurora? Don't you care about her?"

     "Grace! Charlotte!" the king barked at his daughters. "Leave us! Your grandfather and I
will talk about this in private. And what you heard in this room does not leave this room."

     Charlotte and Grace quickly exited the room. It took a lot to make their father angry but
when he was, heads would roll. Hopefully, it would not be Aurora's head on the chopping
block. Grace gave her grandfather's hand a firm squeeze as she passed him. The door closed
firmly behind them, leaving the two men to do battle.

      "Now Thomas," the old man said soothingly. "There is no need to get upset. No one
outside the kingdom knows about Aurora. Those in the kingdom that do know would never
betray her secret. And most of the kingdom does know. I think you and William might be the
only two people that didn't know."

     "That is such a comfort," the king spat out. "My youngest daughter thinks I hate her, trains
with my knights and I did not know a thing. That is just wonderful. How did it come to this? I
should have paid more attention to her. When she was first born, I avoided her because of my
grief. When she got older, she began to look more and more like her mother. looking into her
eyes, I can see Bridget so clearly. It pierced my heart every time I did. What kind of father cannot
look his daughter in the eye? I could see Bridget's fire and determination in her, even when she
was a small child. I should have embraced her but I pushed her away. This is all my fault."

     "You have a daughter to be proud of," the old man said as he laid a comforting hand on his
son's shoulder. "She can take care of herself. Aurora may take after her mother, but she is not
Bridget reborn. The fire is there but there is a gentleness also. Her intelligence is tempered with
humor and compassion. She wishes to make the world a better place but honors our traditions.
You need to get to know your daughter, Thomas. She is a wonderful person and she needs to
know you care for her. She needs your love."

     "She has to stop training with the knights," the king said decisively. "It is unseemly for a woman
and a princess to fight with a sword. It has to stop."

     "No," his father replied. "That would kill her. You cannot take away one of the things that brings
her joy. I know what I am saying is not normal," he said as his son tried to interrupt him. "But I
know Aurora. If you try to stop her, she will still find a way. And the knights respect her so they
would help her. First of all, you need to sit down and talk to her. Really talk to her. Make up for
lost time and get to know your daughter. She might just surprise you. Aurora is a special person
and will make the right man a good wife. But you must get to know her so you can make the best
choice for her."

     "I have a few offers that I have been thinking about for her," the king admitted. "Arthur and his
knights shall be here in a fortnight. Maybe one of them will be a good match. Having Arthur as an ally
would be a good thing for our kingdom. But, first things first. Take me to my youngest daughter. I
have much to make up for. Too much time has been wasted. I need to find out what kind of woman
she is. And I need to know what I have been missing by pushing her away. I hope she will forgive
me for being such an idiot for all these years."

    "I'm sure she will," the old man laughed as he embraced his son. "She is a very forgiving person.
A trait that she got from me. Now let us go to Aurora's room and I shall introduce you to one of
the most complex and interesting people I know."

     The two men left the room, closing the door behind them. They walked down the hallway and
went up the stairs. The king's mind raced with a million thoughts. He was going to truly talk to his
youngest child for the first time. Why had he been so foolish and blind? He drew a deep breath and
squared his shoulders as he stood outside her door. He reached a shaking hand toward the doorknob.