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Your Face Bathed in Moonlight

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The first thing he remembered was her face, bathed in moonlight. With a gasp, he’d woken in the middle of the night in his miserable little bed in his miserable little house on the moon, the vision of a beautiful woman with kind blue eyes and long blonde hair burned onto his retinas, reaching out to him with tears in her eyes, helpless. He hadn’t seen the moonlight since he was- well he didn’t actually remember the last time he’d seen the moon as anything but the ground beneath his feet. Hard to see the light of a thing you’re standing on. For the longest time, he’d just assumed it looked something similar to the light reflected back at them from earth.

It didn’t.

The moment he’d seen her face, he’d known just how much it was not the same. The earth’s light, polluted by it’s thriving cities and so-called civilisation, was no match for moonlight. No match for the ethereal blue glow he had seen around his wife’s visage. Oh how he missed her.

He wondered what her name was now. He wondered if she remembered. His memories were vague at best, coming to him mostly in flashes of faces and sounds, smells… The sensation of her lips on his. The knowledge that wherever she was now, he loved her still.  

He wished there was more. There was a person inside him that he didn’t know yet, but he wanted to. Wanted to know this man called Arthur, this man so just, so brave… so different from himself. What had happened to that man? How could he have been that person once and this person now. This person so useless they had just thrown him away. Just given up on him, sent him to the moon and made him someone else’s problem.

Anger bubbled up from the core of his being. Anger and grief at feeling so very misunderstood, so lost, so abandoned. Suddenly he didn’t want the name he had given to himself out of spite. Didn’t want to be bad at all. But what else was there? What could he do, here, trapped on the moon, without her?

The moon.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He knew exactly who were here with him and he knew that she was not.




He breathed deeply, a smirk on his face hidden behind the helmet of his spacesuit. He’d done it. He’d actually done it. They were on earth.

It didn’t take long to cause some trouble. Just a few moments on earth and he’d totally forgotten his plans, and just enjoyed the chaos he and Sweetheart were causing. Who cared about past lives, he was not that person anymore, and he was entitled to some fun.




A gun, pointed at his face. Blue eyes flashing with righteous indignation. Struck by lightning, he stared at her amidst the chaos, wanting nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss her, gun be damned. She glared, and he started running. Oh, but he would win her back.


His Guinevere.