Shatter into the Hope of Tomorrow
Title: Shatter into the Hope of Tomorrow
Author: mara93
Rating: R, but it’s probably mild. I gave it this rating because of violence and mature matter: sensual angsty scenes more than sexual, but I like to be safe.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. Merlin belongs to BBC/Shine. But some of the characters in this story are made up. The first line of the story is a quote taken directly from the show, posted in bold italics.
Warnings/Spoilers: This has spoilers for all seasons probably. I know nothing about what’s to come for season 5, but it’s filled with season 4 spoilers. It has angst, violence, tension and once in a while a touch of humor. It even has some romance and A/G are endgame, but it’s not an easy route. If you thought the show rushed things a bit, like I have to admit I did, you may enjoy this.
Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, Gwaine, Merlin, Percival, Elyan, Leon, Morgana, Agravaine // Arthur/Gwen
Summary: Arthur sends Guinevere away after what he sees as the deepest treachery against his heart. When the true treachery begins, and his beloved Camelot is lit ablaze by those he had trusted most, he is lost in every sense. Physically forced away from home, fate equally forces his heart to face its greatest fear, being shattered by love.
Author Notes: I loved for the most part episode 4.13. I didn’t feel that way so much for ep.4.12 because I think for the lead in to the finale so much time shouldn’t have been wasted making Arthur look so silly. Any other episode it could have worked, but not this one in my opinion. (Rest of my notes on this can be read at the first post for this story…)
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Two: She who Hungers
It was hard to know where to start first.
She spun in a slow circle at the middle of the tiny house, gazing over everything she had collected from the past, bought at the markets, and been gifted with. Looking over it all was so overwhelming.
Her stomach churned angrily. She hadn’t eaten since last night, when she had been placed in the dungeons, and even then it was a meager meal. Yet hunger, even if her stomach was complaining about it, was the last thing her heart cared about.
Why did she desire him? Why did she kiss him?
Why? Why? WHY?
When she had love in her hands, in her vitals. Why? What made that yearn so powerful that she had to give into it? She didn’t know. Didn’t know.
It just ruined so much, burned at her heart. She loved Arthur, not…him.
She never wanted Lancelot to die. It saddened her when it happened, but she grieved and then moved on. He made his sacrifice and so she hoped simply for his soul to be at peace. Then the impossible happened. He returned to Camelot just days ago and the equilibrium of her life exploded. She cared for Lancelot, truthfully, desired him once, but it had never reached the depth of her feelings for Arthur, and it had never lasted as long.
For years she had watched the prince, waited for him to notice her. And then when he did as he stayed at her home, she learned how truly arrogant the man could be. It made her smile now with wry amusement to remember him thinking during that stay that she had more than one bed and so he slept in what was actually her sole bed. She started to experience a new feeling for him, annoyance, especially after he expected her to fetch him bath water from outside. Finally she let him know how rude he was being and he realized his folly, apologizing and admitting he strongly cared for her.
Gwen breathed hard now, fisting her hands on her dress, and then pushing at her tangled hair that she hadn’t bothered to comb after the night spent in the dungeon.
It would not do to take her thoughts there, dwelling in what was no more.
She had to start packing away what she’d take with her. Just the most important things. The rest she’d leave for whoever resided here next, for whatever waste vehicle took it, for whatever burning fire was used to torch it all away. Arthur wanted no reminder of her. And one day when he met his future queen-
Her stomach groaned so hard she clutched it, almost kneeling down to the floor.
Life’s secure hold was gone, its tethers no longer anchoring her to a safe happy home. To him.
Something not so bright of color, but suddenly standing out from the other items, caught her eye. She walked over to it, her boots clacking against the floor. Her fingers tangled into a tunic of pale ash color and suddenly a memory whiffed within her heart of happier times, of less than a week before their almost wedding. He would sometimes come over to receive her council, or to simply share dinner. This night was for the latter…
“That was wonderful.”
She smiled at his approval. Oh how he loved her roast chicken and freshly baked bread.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it”, she stated, getting up from the table to bring the dishes to the sink. It was just an ordinary day, their relationship not completely out in the open, but far from as hidden as it used to be. He didn’t want to treat her as some dirty secret.
Moments passed by before he got up from the table too, carrying more dishes. “Here, I can help.”
She smiled at that amusedly. He was great at many things, but draw the line at helping out in the kitchen. Still, even if his assistance was awkward, she was happy to have added time in his company.
The cleaning went into effect quickly and efficiently. All was well until the very last dish. He accidentally fumbled and spilled the final remains of the chicken’s gravy upon himself.
“Oh, Arthur!” She exclaimed as the juice splattered all over his tunic messily.
“Well if that wasn’t a Merlin move. His incompetence must be wearing off on me.” Arthur grumbled, poking at Merlin as the instigator amusedly, even though the poor innocent servant wasn’t in the vicinity.
Brows giving a quick bounce, Gwen held in her laughter, helping him put the messy pot down, and then using a rag to wipe at his stained tunic. It was pretty much a useless cause that soon enough he interrupted with a shrug before he discarded the tunic entirely, letting it fall to the bench of her dining table.
A not so planned smile came to her face. Seeing him shirtless was nothing new. Enough times he would wash up after a knight training session. Any type of nervousness of such mild states of undress had departed after their first days and nights of sharing affections more regularly.
Feeling Guinevere’s hands climb up his shoulders, Arthur brought his head down. As their lips lazily slid against each other’s, he grasped her waist, backing them up to an intended target, the distance not so far as her house was quite tiny.
His destination was her cot sized bed as he now relaxed his back against it, and kept her solidly atop, lips still taking their time to nuzzle and play with hers. Realizing their new positions, Gwen pulled away, letting out a warning that referred to a woman’s laws of propriety. “Arthur…” It didn’t come out that firmly though as she was feeling quite warm and very relaxed. His body was the perfect cushion of hardness and heat.
Kissing her a little more, he endeavored to appease, settling himself comfortably against her cot’s pillow. For the moment he didn’t want to think about how when the hour grew too late they’d have to end this. So for now he just ran his fingers over the waist of her blue gown, looking up into her dark shining eyes. “You’re beautiful…” He whispered romantically in her ear. She blushed slightly at that, but then he pulled away a bit, getting a curious expression in his blue eyes.
“And you have powder in your hair.”
Gwen scrunched her nose up at that half romantic gesture, half oddball spontaneous comment. “Well, why thank you. Such a chivalrous thing of you to say my lord.”
He giggled at that, boyishly, because she had that effect on him often, getting him to smile with all his teeth showing and bringing out the uncontainable chuckles from his mouth. “No…” He trailed a finger into her dark curls, bringing it out as evidence. “See…”
Gwen rolled her eyes as he proceeded to relieve her of the rest, just a few specks, probably flew atop her head while she had been kneading the dough for the bread.
“Hazards of baking I suppose.” Arthur muttered distractedly, fascinated with how her tight curls looped around his fingers.
“Oh yes, can be quite dangerous using flour, which by the way is the technical name used for it.” She replied teasingly, kissing around his lips with daring before whispering, “You are quite handsome.”
That brought out a cheeky grin as the egotistical part of him thought ‘well, of course it was true’. And yet it wasn’t more than a pair of minutes later after some deep scrutiny, she added on to the compliment. “And you have a glob of dried gravy on the tip of your nose.”
“Eh!” He wiped away at it furiously, causing her to catch his finger with laughter. “Well you do! Or er…did.”
Arthur decided that they’d engaged in enough talk. “Ah, kiss me and we’ll stop giving honest assessments of each other.”
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or kiss him as ordered. The latter won out as it was definitely a more desirable token of choice at the moment. He lay back upon her pillow with a relaxed smile. Pressing his lips up against hers, he bounced away too, playfully, giving light fast pecks now.
It was like a melody of affection. She smiled with contentment before strongly reminding him of one important thing. “This is my bed.”
“Hmmm, as I recall it was my bed that night I stayed here.” He kissed her languidly, before she pressed her fingers against his pouting lips.
“NO, you just assumed you could use it as your bed.” She continued to hold him off as his pout grew. The king liked getting his way.
“The purpose of this argument Guin-E-vere (he brought out with boyish emphasis on her name) is that I can call it my bed now because I used it once before.”
“Fine, should I have Merlin move it into your room and trade it for yours?”
He snuffed at that with ridicule. “Hah, my bed would take over your house.”
“Your bed would make it impossible to get to the door! And since when are we having an argument?”
He fingered her hair, pulling and swirling. He loved those tight little curls. “Since arguing means a necessitated make-up of feelings, which in kind means inappropriate behavior of physical solace that is quite exhilarating to engage in with you.”
Her head fell back with laughter at that so he growled and snatched her neck with his lips, bringing a solid closure to her giggles.
Instead a deep moan. “Oh Arthur…no…you won’t want to leave. I won’t want you to leave.”
His mouth was wet and hot against her skin, languishing. “I was thinking of staying anyway since your bed is my bed.”
She gave him a one eyebrow lift to that comment, making him giggle with more silliness.
Gwen rolled her eyes, getting up from the bed, and eliciting a most undignified groan from said king of Camelot.
“Such a noble sound.” She remarked dryly.
Standing up he snatched her waist against his. “Noble is null and void when you interrupt our romancing.”
She laughed some more, before sobering. “You’re king now. You and I both know that your staying here-
Another tight groan came from him, but he nodded his head. “Yes, right. Even though I hate it. I’m king, shouldn’t I have a say in my personal endeavors?”
It was part teasing, part seriousness. She smiled at him in apology, maybe making solace for both of them. “Kiss me goodnight Arthur. And I’ll see you tomorrow my Lord.”
He held her in his arms and did as ordered, forgetting all their fussing and play fighting. She kissed him back, feeling the solidity of his chest against her dress’s front. His hands cupped her cheeks as he whispered regretfully, “Goodnight.”
One last kiss and he was out the door. She stood against its closed structure, letting out a content sigh of pent up frustration. Ah, the blissful irritation of love…
The memory fading away, Gwen’s tears fell onto the pale ash tunic that she never thoroughly finished washing for him. All she’d done was wiped away the stain with soap and water that night. Now a furious determination drilled deep into her. She had to clean it all the way. She’d have to find her washboard and pan. Get some soap from the shelves. Fill the pan. Scrub hard and-
She gathered it all, feeling another hunger pang in her stomach. She clutched at its emptiness as she perused the room. After that time he stayed and wanted a bath, she tried to keep water around, just for her own self. Now she heated it before pouring the hot liquid into the pan. Some of it splattered away from its destination.
“OH!” Gwen let out painfully, feeling the high temperature of the water scald her fingers for a quick moment. Her face scrunched up at the temporary pain. Angrily, Gwen forgot her own discomfort, bringing the tunic into the water, giving it a good soak. And then bringing it against the washboard, she started to scrub rapidly. Punishingly, feeling tiny pricks of pain in her fingers that had been touched by the hot water, she ignored it all. So set upon her work, she didn’t hear the door open, didn’t know she wasn’t alone until a voice came from behind.
“Gwen.”
As she turned backward, Gaius frowned at the tears coursing down her cheeks, the way some of her fingers were tensing with some kind of anguish.
“I have to clean this. Return it to him. He came a few nights ago. I know I don’t have to hide it from you Gaius. You knew we were---together. And, well, he spilled some gravy and it made this mess. And now I’m soaking it in the water so he can have it back. But who’s going to give it to him? He doesn’t want to look at me. He hates me! And I don’t blame him. I don’t blame him because I hurt him so badly. I did something so awful. And WHY…oh WHY…”
Gaius put down the small pack of supplies he had brought and moved down carefully to the floor next to the sobbing young woman, so upset her words came out in rash mumblings. “Oh Gwen dear.”
His hands gently came to her shoulders and Gwen tried to push him away. “You shouldn’t be here. No one should be. He’ll be angry. He’ll be so-
Gaius brought an aged hand to her cheek with almost fatherly care, remembering for a moment her beautiful brave mother. How pained she would be to see her daughter hurting so. “He is the one who sent me Gwen.”
She stared at him, for a moment so hopeful. “Did he…has he changed his mind?”
Gaius looked upon the young woman with saddened eyes, shaking his head regrettably, realizing he might have just made things worse, but then taking in her throbbing fingers, he lifted the most affected ones up. “These look like burns Gwen .”
She dully looked down at her fingers, having almost forgotten the pain, uncaring. “They’re from the water. It was too hot and I spilled some.”
Gaius grimaced at that, before giving her a comforting smile. “We should get you up off the floor. I have bandages in my bag.”
Gwen allowed the elder man to help her to stand as he did too. She moved over to her dining bench, sitting upon it, leaving the pail and wash on the floor.
Gaius came to the bench now too, bringing out a few of the bandages to wrap Gwen’s fingers. “The burns are very mild. They should be healed by morning and you can remove them then Gwen, alright?”
She nodded her head, recalling something he had said when he walked into her home. “Gaius, you said Arthur sent you. Or did I hear you wrong?”
Gaius shook his head, touching at her hand now that the small bandages were in place on her fingers. “No. He sent me. He was concerned my dear. He said that when you…spoke to each other…he unintentionally physically hurt you and he simply wanted to make sure you suffered no injury before you left.”
Gwen lifted the sleeve of her dress, pointing to it, a mild red mark still left on her arm that would soon enough fade, but no kind of bruising or serious infliction. “This? Oh he should not worry about me so. It’s nothing.”
Her stomach grumbled angrily, making her clench it.
Gaius now knew that she was alright physically from anything Arthur might have inadvertently done in his anger, but her hunger was indeed something to worry about. Especially if she was to be off on her own, food might not be so readily available. It would cause much harm for her to leave here half starved. “Gwen my dear when was the last time you ate?”
Gwen shook her head. “It’s not important.”
He grasped her hand. “Yes it is. You must take care of yourself, especially if you are to find somewhere to stay.”
Gwen shook at that, new tears entering her eyes. “Stay? I have nowhere to stay. I don’t know where I’m going to go. I never thought I’d leave here. I never imagined-
Camelot is my home. I never thought I’d spend days not seeing him. I---
She got up off the bench, clutching her heart, bending over with the force of the invisible knife cutting through it. “Oh, I don’t know why I did it Gaius. I don’t know why I k-kissed him…Lancelot. I don’t love him. I just couldn’t-I couldn’t help myself. For some reason I can’t even explain I was drawn to him. But it’s Arthur-
Gaius listened until the young woman’s voice started to break with ravage and then he stood up, caringly bringing her into his arms. “Oh Gwen.”
She sobbed against his shoulder. “It’s Arthur I love. Arthur who I wanted to spend my life with. And now it’s ruined. It’s all ruined.”
Gaius whispered soothingly, rubbing her back patiently. “Perhaps, perhaps not.”
Gwen pulled back from him some questioningly. “Gaius?”
He smiled, recalling it, her. “I knew your mother Gwen.”
She wiped at some of her tears. “You did?”
Gaius nodded solidly. “Yes. She was a good woman.”
“Unlike me.” Gwen remarked dryly, already having received some of the looks, heard the whispers about her from some of her former friends. Others just gave her sad expressions, but were unwilling to speak to her because of her banishment.
“No. That’s not true my dear. She was much like you. Lovely and kind hearted. Strong and forgiving. When she became ill, she fought it so bravely. And when she knew there was no more fight to be had, she made sure of everything for you and Elyan.”
Sadly Gwen stated, “I don’t remember her, except for one bit of memory, but it’s always been too fragmented. I can’t hold onto it. I can’t see her. I wish I could have before she…departed.”
Gaius nodded his head. “I do too. You may not know all of this. Part you will. Your mother worked for Leon’s family. They loved her dearly because she was so hardworking and just a lovely person. Many grieved when your mother passed on, Gwen. It was hard for those who cared about her so. But before the illness got too bad, your mother took on Ingrid’s role for a very short time.”
“Who was Ingrid?” Gwen asked curiously, tears starting to dry on her cheeks.
“Arthur’s nanny when he was just a young prince.”
“Oh.”
Gaius continued, “Ingrid was away visiting her mother so for that period of time your mother took on her duties of caring for the then infant prince. It was only a few months after you were born, several more after his birth. One day, your mother came into my chambers with both of you in tow.”
Gwen listened with deep interest, a temporary reprieve from all her troubles. Any retell of her mother was a sweet blessing.
“Unfortunately what should have been a time of deep celebration, the prince’s birth, was a mournful one because of the queen’s passing moments after he came into the world. The purge that followed too brought on much grief.”
Gwen nodded. She and Arthur both were too young to have seen the deepest horrors of the purge, but she could recall the invasions of Druid camps, burnings at the stake, and even a few child drownings, painful parts of Camelot’s past.
“Because of this, most likely, and the fact that the king, at that time, had difficulty in being demonstrative with his son, the prince was known to cry quite a bit.” Gaius didn’t tell Gwen now the full extent of this. In truth Uther could barely look at Arthur after his birth. For a sum of many months the man rarely touched his infant son.
Now Uther would go on to love Arthur fervently, but he would always have difficulty with showing his son the physical adoration of his love. The delicate and yet vital Ygraine had always been better at that. It was a side of her being that she passed on to Arthur. Gaius saw it from time to time, especially when someone was hurt. His gentleness would show then, and what his father had so much difficulty with, Arthur would just genuinely display.
As Gwen smiled sadly, Gaius continued.
“That day as he cried your mother laid him down on a cot, resting you nearby. And Gwen, the most peculiar thing happened. The young prince stopped crying. Your close vicinity seemed to calm him.”
“What?”
Gaius smiled. “So you see my dear. Perhaps this is it. But perhaps not. Your mother only called you Guinevere. She said it was a name that would always be remembered for its importance. And I believe she was right.” He clasped her hands. “Gwen, he sent me here because, yes, he is hurt. But he still cares. Perhaps time can heal.”
She hugged the elder man, not sure where the future was to lead, but heartened by the story. As she was pulling away a knock came at the door, the back one. Before she could get there, another rap of sound pounded at the wood. “I’m coming.” She announced a bit restlessly, wondering who would be so impatient. She opened it to a face of scraggly beard and surrounding dark brown waves of hair.
“Gwaine?”
He was grimacing tightly, looking not at all happy. Gwen stared, before she felt a bear hug surround her small frame. “Gwaine?” She asked unsurely before she got her better sense and pushed him away. “No. You shouldn’t be here. Arthur would not approve.”
Gwaine placed his hands on his waist solidly. He didn’t really get any of this. It made no sense. Gwen was no fickle woman. She wouldn’t agree to marry a man and then be seen with another. She just wouldn’t do it. Something wasn’t right here. But whatever that was, it simply didn’t matter. He had liked her since he first came to Camelot and truthfully if her heart hadn’t belonged to Arthur he definitely could have seen himself honorably pursuing her.
Anyway, for now she was in need of help and he had two strong arms to offer it.
“Well then it’s just between us. Here…” Gwaine took an uncooked chicken out of a burlap bag, as Gwen shut the door, ushering him all the way in. “I’m assuming after spending a night in the dungeons you haven’t eaten much, so that can be dinner.”
Gaius came over with a smile. “Ah Gwaine, I’m glad you brought this. You’re right. She hasn’t eaten much so I can start cooking it now.”
“Perfect.” Gwaine grinned at that even as Gwen still looked unsure of it all. He knew that she was thinking of their welfare, but heck, if the king had an issue with this, he’d deal with it himself. She didn’t need to worry. “And I have two muscled arms ready for-
Gwen stared at him. Another hug?
Gwaine gestured around the room, grinning. “Ready for helping you pick up all this stuff and getting it packed.”
Gwen smiled, feeling tears welling in her eyes again. She was so grateful to the both of them. Gwaine moved in closer, telling her quietly, “You know Elyan wanted to come. But he’s so much about protocol and all that. He said anyway that he hopes you are well which I kind of laughed at. Of course you’re not well, but no one works harder than you. And you’re brave to boot. You’re going to be fine Gwen. But if it ever gets too hard, if you can’t take it, don’t hesitate to come back.”
Gwen shook her head, frowning. “Gwaine, you’re a knight of Camelot. You can’t help me.”
“Deal with that if the time comes. You’re my friend and that’s all that matters the way I see it. You need help, you come back.”
Gaius came over, having prepared the chicken for cooking and so now he was wiping his hands on a rag. Gwaine’s offer was generous, but couldn’t be easily delivered. He had an alternative solution based on what the king himself said. “That won’t be necessary Gwaine. I know a place you can stay Gwen. It’s hard work, but you’re no stranger to that. It’s a nice village outside enough of Camelot that you won’t have to worry about meeting up with anyone you don’t want to. And it should be quite safe. “
Gwen smiled gratefully, feeling more of those tears welling in her eyes. Leaving Camelot would be the hardest thing she ever did, but it was so good to have dear friends who cared this much.
So good.
***
A voice rung Arthur out of his reverie.
“I thought I made it clear earlier that I didn’t want to be disturbed. You can leave.”
Gwaine pushed through the door anyway. He had a delivery to make and a few things to say. He knew Merlin was feeling awful about all this too, but as he was just a servant, one of Arthur’s closest friends and Gwen’s too, he was torn between complaining boisterously and supporting his king. Gwaine, on the other hand, felt as knight he had a right to say what he needed to.
“This will only take a moment.”
Arthur moved away from the door, frowning. Gwaine went on. He knew he was sometimes seen as the fool of the group, the funny knight, but he had his moments of seriousness too and this was one of them. “Look, Arthur, I’m truly honored to be a knight of Camelot. That’s why I’ve kept my mouth shut a lot. But I have to say something on this and you’re going to hear me out.”
“I’m your king, Gwaine, remember that.” Arthur testily reminded. His sorrow was swelling into anger.
Gwaine just shrugged and held it out. “Here, she cleaned this for you. Asked me to bring it because she said you wouldn’t want to see her.”
Arthur looked down at the pale ash tunic, the stain completely gone, and the material smelling fresh and tidied. Slowly he took it from Gwaine, not saying anything for a handful of moments, and then, “Thank you.”
“She’s the one you should be thanking.” Gwaine muttered, before going on. “I helped her pack. You know, one day to get all your stuff together isn’t the easiest thing to do. And I brought her food because I doubt she was given much to eat in the dungeons last night.”
Arthur sighed heavily.
Gwaine knew he was pushing his luck, speaking so forcefully, but he couldn’t contain it. “I do all you say Arthur. I’ve pledged my life to serving you, but she’s my friend so I’m not going to apologize for helping her.”
Arthur lowered his eyes to the floor, the tunic reverently grasped in his hands as he whispered, “I don’t want you to. I’m glad you made sure she was well.”
Gwaine looked at him with shock now. “What?”
“I meant it.” Arthur studied the clean tunic, taking in the scent that always seemed to be there when her physical presence touched something, floral, sweet. It made him feel painfully dizzy. So empty without the support he was used to. “She hasn’t left yet. I’m not going to stop anyone from making sure of her welfare while she is still here.”
Gwaine smiled. Arthur wasn’t finished though as he now lifted his head strongly, king in full effect.
“But hear me on this Gwaine and make your choice soon. For I won’t tolerate any indecision. After she is gone tomorrow, I don’t want to hear her name anymore. I don’t want to see anything of her. You will keep your feelings about all this to yourself. Once she is gone, that’s it. She made her decision and I have made mine. Guinevere will be banished from Camelot in the morning and any mention of her will not be allowed. Now you pledged your allegiance to me over a year ago. If you cannot agree to what I have just said, best you speak up now.”
Gwaine let out a heavy grunt, angry and understanding the same. Just none of this was right. “I don’t believe she meant to hurt you. Gwen is not mean or uncaring.”
Tightly as he fingered the tunic, Arthur shook his head, feeling his heart shake. “I don’t think she is either, but she cannot stay in Camelot. I don’t want to see her anymore. You understand?”
Gwaine sadly nodded. He truly did have deep respect for Arthur, but this decision was just so ravaged. “I do. But you should probably know I told her that if she needs anything she can come to me.”
Arthur frowned tightly, before letting out, “Fine, but then you leave Camelot too if it ever comes to that.”
Gwaine couldn’t help his frustration. “Arthur there’s something very wrong here! Don’t you feel it? I watched her the night after you proposed. She’s never been happier.”
Arthur fought inwardly, knowing this conversation would have to end soon. He needed time to himself. “Neither have I. Gwaine, I’ve said all I have to on this matter. In the morning she will leave and that will be it. Now if you don’t mind…I’d like to be alone.”
Gwaine had so much more he wanted to say, but the dismissal was curt and to the point as Arthur now turned away from him, looking out the window.
Gwaine departed the room, closing the door behind him.
At its first sound, Arthur’s tears fell onto the pale ash tunic.
***
The king rushed back to Camelot, riding his horse at an urgent pace. Wrapped around one of his fingers was the ring on its leather cord. It had been weeks since he last saw her. He had actually mentally prepared himself to marry the Princess Mithian. It wouldn’t have been that hard of a task. She was quite lovely and engaging. Only during her stay Arthur now realized shockingly he had tried to bury his heart. Now that he had the ring, it was like shocks of lightning burning his skin. Every curtain he had tried to close over his eyes blew away. His body shivered with long forgotten awareness.
Questions wracked him. How did the ring get out there so deep into the wood? Was she angry enough to throw it away? Or maybe frightened, or desperate enough to have lost it somehow?
He could hear it faintly behind him, the princess calling out his name as she tried to catch up to him at the castle’s entrance. Arthur jumped off his horse, not able to respond yet. There was someone he had to see.
Arthur rushed up the steps, feeling Merlin coming behind, calling out to him also as he reached his side.
“Not now Merlin.”
“Arthur!”
“Not now!”
He swiftly made his way to the physician’s quarters, mildly pushing away Merlin as the servant stared at him curiously. “Why are you coming here?” He asked.
Arthur shook his head. “I need to speak to Gaius, Merlin. Alone. Please.”
Merlin was upset for a reason he couldn’t share with Arthur. He knew the deer had been Gwen and that meant she was harmed, and yet because he was servant and it was daylight he couldn’t go to her yet. “Arthur, look-
The king used his role to be brusque, rude. “Merlin, I said I need to speak to Gaius alone. Now go busy yourself with my horse. He needs a wipe-down and the stables are looking filthy.”
Merlin looked affronted, before he coldly replied. “Yes, Sire.” The servant hurried down the steps, away from his master.
Arthur let out a heavy sigh. He hadn’t meant to be that coarse. Merlin’s council, oddly quite wise often, truly meant something to him, but for now, he needed to speak to the physician who had treated him honestly since he was a boy, who gave his allegiance to his father when so many others turned away.
Stepping into the room, seeing the physician at the back, working on a remedy, Arthur quietly whispered. “Gaius.”
The elderly physician came over to him. “Sire.” He studied the younger man for a moment, noticing that his expression was troubled and more revealing than it had been of late.
Arthur unraveled it from his fingers where he’d been holding onto it since they had departed the wood. “During the hunt I found this. It’s the ring I gave…” He stumbled on the word, a name he promised himself after her banishment he would never speak again and yet it was so deeply drilled into his heart it was stupid to assume he could keep such vow. “Guinevere.”
Gaius took the ring from him, staring up at the king, not quite understanding the meaning yet.
Arthur continued, “I never asked for it back. I think because it was on this length of leather, she had been wearing it.”
Gaius nodded. “I suppose that is possible.”
Arthur let out a long drawn sigh, trying to not make so evident the shakiness of his breaths. “Gaius, did you tell her somewhere to go? I remember I mentioned to you I would not take issue to if you knew of a place, safe, hospitable.”
Gaius smiled at that mildly. As much as Arthur had made up the pretense for this wedding to Princess Mithian it was not hard for those who knew him well to see. His heart was somewhere else. “I did Sire. As I didn’t think you would take offense.”
Arthur shook his head rapidly. “No, that’s fine. I don’t mind it. Just, it wasn’t somewhere within the wood, was it?”
“No Sire.” Gaius quietly added, “It was to a village where there are hardworking good people I know. It’s mostly farmland, less of forest.”
Arthur lowered his head, trying to deny the pricks of anxiety within his heart. A part of him wanted to just go find her, make sure she was safe. Another reminded that she betrayed him with another man, one he once considered a friend, long ago before things become much too complex. And a third even, fretted that maybe she discarded of the ring on purpose, upset with him.
But that third was the weakest, because no matter how much he hurt her, angered her, she was not so petty to throw away something he told her had been his mother’s and meant much to him.
So Arthur couldn’t help but wonder, even worry a little…
“I wonder how it got to the wood.”
Gaius carefully said nothing, seeing the trouble in Arthur’s face, but not sure how to approach the subject when the young man was his king and believed that the woman he loved humiliated and hurt him.
Arthur tightly clasped it back within his fingers, feeling he would get no answer and not sure why he would even want one. She was banished and so she was supposed to be forgotten. “Thank you Gaius.” He whispered softly before leaving the room.
Supposed to be forgotten and yet…
Love has a hard time forgetting.
***
Will be continued in Three: Hell’s Face is Fear
Excerpt: The smell of fires burning lifted with smoked irritation to his nose. Bodies littered the hallways, those of the enemy and those draped in red cloaks, knights and guards of Camelot. They had tried to get most of the civilians out that had been at the banquet, but Arthur wasn’t sure about those on the outside, the workforce and villagers who had not attended. As he slashed at another of Morgana’s men with his sword, bloodying its tip, he grunted with memory. There was something vitally important he needed to get, too precious to allow to be taken.
Author’s notes: I loved Gwaine in season three, but I thought he was mainly used as comic relief in season four. I wanted to give him some more substance because he definitely would have cared as much as Merlin and others that Gwen was banished. Elyan, we never got any strong indication of how he felt, but I wanted to at least mention he was troubled by it. The next update should be up soon. This one took a while because even though the fic is complete I’m working on something else and I’m still making some strong edits to this. So I’ll try to get the next one up sooner.
Thanks so much for reading. Feedback is adored. Thank you so much for your comments last time. They were wonderful to read/respond to.
Author: mara93
Rating: R, but it’s probably mild. I gave it this rating because of violence and mature matter: sensual angsty scenes more than sexual, but I like to be safe.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. Merlin belongs to BBC/Shine. But some of the characters in this story are made up. The first line of the story is a quote taken directly from the show, posted in bold italics.
Warnings/Spoilers: This has spoilers for all seasons probably. I know nothing about what’s to come for season 5, but it’s filled with season 4 spoilers. It has angst, violence, tension and once in a while a touch of humor. It even has some romance and A/G are endgame, but it’s not an easy route. If you thought the show rushed things a bit, like I have to admit I did, you may enjoy this.
Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, Gwaine, Merlin, Percival, Elyan, Leon, Morgana, Agravaine // Arthur/Gwen
Summary: Arthur sends Guinevere away after what he sees as the deepest treachery against his heart. When the true treachery begins, and his beloved Camelot is lit ablaze by those he had trusted most, he is lost in every sense. Physically forced away from home, fate equally forces his heart to face its greatest fear, being shattered by love.
Author Notes: I loved for the most part episode 4.13. I didn’t feel that way so much for ep.4.12 because I think for the lead in to the finale so much time shouldn’t have been wasted making Arthur look so silly. Any other episode it could have worked, but not this one in my opinion. (Rest of my notes on this can be read at the first post for this story…)
****
Two: She who Hungers
It was hard to know where to start first.
She spun in a slow circle at the middle of the tiny house, gazing over everything she had collected from the past, bought at the markets, and been gifted with. Looking over it all was so overwhelming.
Her stomach churned angrily. She hadn’t eaten since last night, when she had been placed in the dungeons, and even then it was a meager meal. Yet hunger, even if her stomach was complaining about it, was the last thing her heart cared about.
Why did she desire him? Why did she kiss him?
Why? Why? WHY?
When she had love in her hands, in her vitals. Why? What made that yearn so powerful that she had to give into it? She didn’t know. Didn’t know.
It just ruined so much, burned at her heart. She loved Arthur, not…him.
She never wanted Lancelot to die. It saddened her when it happened, but she grieved and then moved on. He made his sacrifice and so she hoped simply for his soul to be at peace. Then the impossible happened. He returned to Camelot just days ago and the equilibrium of her life exploded. She cared for Lancelot, truthfully, desired him once, but it had never reached the depth of her feelings for Arthur, and it had never lasted as long.
For years she had watched the prince, waited for him to notice her. And then when he did as he stayed at her home, she learned how truly arrogant the man could be. It made her smile now with wry amusement to remember him thinking during that stay that she had more than one bed and so he slept in what was actually her sole bed. She started to experience a new feeling for him, annoyance, especially after he expected her to fetch him bath water from outside. Finally she let him know how rude he was being and he realized his folly, apologizing and admitting he strongly cared for her.
Gwen breathed hard now, fisting her hands on her dress, and then pushing at her tangled hair that she hadn’t bothered to comb after the night spent in the dungeon.
It would not do to take her thoughts there, dwelling in what was no more.
She had to start packing away what she’d take with her. Just the most important things. The rest she’d leave for whoever resided here next, for whatever waste vehicle took it, for whatever burning fire was used to torch it all away. Arthur wanted no reminder of her. And one day when he met his future queen-
Her stomach groaned so hard she clutched it, almost kneeling down to the floor.
Life’s secure hold was gone, its tethers no longer anchoring her to a safe happy home. To him.
Something not so bright of color, but suddenly standing out from the other items, caught her eye. She walked over to it, her boots clacking against the floor. Her fingers tangled into a tunic of pale ash color and suddenly a memory whiffed within her heart of happier times, of less than a week before their almost wedding. He would sometimes come over to receive her council, or to simply share dinner. This night was for the latter…
“That was wonderful.”
She smiled at his approval. Oh how he loved her roast chicken and freshly baked bread.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it”, she stated, getting up from the table to bring the dishes to the sink. It was just an ordinary day, their relationship not completely out in the open, but far from as hidden as it used to be. He didn’t want to treat her as some dirty secret.
Moments passed by before he got up from the table too, carrying more dishes. “Here, I can help.”
She smiled at that amusedly. He was great at many things, but draw the line at helping out in the kitchen. Still, even if his assistance was awkward, she was happy to have added time in his company.
The cleaning went into effect quickly and efficiently. All was well until the very last dish. He accidentally fumbled and spilled the final remains of the chicken’s gravy upon himself.
“Oh, Arthur!” She exclaimed as the juice splattered all over his tunic messily.
“Well if that wasn’t a Merlin move. His incompetence must be wearing off on me.” Arthur grumbled, poking at Merlin as the instigator amusedly, even though the poor innocent servant wasn’t in the vicinity.
Brows giving a quick bounce, Gwen held in her laughter, helping him put the messy pot down, and then using a rag to wipe at his stained tunic. It was pretty much a useless cause that soon enough he interrupted with a shrug before he discarded the tunic entirely, letting it fall to the bench of her dining table.
A not so planned smile came to her face. Seeing him shirtless was nothing new. Enough times he would wash up after a knight training session. Any type of nervousness of such mild states of undress had departed after their first days and nights of sharing affections more regularly.
Feeling Guinevere’s hands climb up his shoulders, Arthur brought his head down. As their lips lazily slid against each other’s, he grasped her waist, backing them up to an intended target, the distance not so far as her house was quite tiny.
His destination was her cot sized bed as he now relaxed his back against it, and kept her solidly atop, lips still taking their time to nuzzle and play with hers. Realizing their new positions, Gwen pulled away, letting out a warning that referred to a woman’s laws of propriety. “Arthur…” It didn’t come out that firmly though as she was feeling quite warm and very relaxed. His body was the perfect cushion of hardness and heat.
Kissing her a little more, he endeavored to appease, settling himself comfortably against her cot’s pillow. For the moment he didn’t want to think about how when the hour grew too late they’d have to end this. So for now he just ran his fingers over the waist of her blue gown, looking up into her dark shining eyes. “You’re beautiful…” He whispered romantically in her ear. She blushed slightly at that, but then he pulled away a bit, getting a curious expression in his blue eyes.
“And you have powder in your hair.”
Gwen scrunched her nose up at that half romantic gesture, half oddball spontaneous comment. “Well, why thank you. Such a chivalrous thing of you to say my lord.”
He giggled at that, boyishly, because she had that effect on him often, getting him to smile with all his teeth showing and bringing out the uncontainable chuckles from his mouth. “No…” He trailed a finger into her dark curls, bringing it out as evidence. “See…”
Gwen rolled her eyes as he proceeded to relieve her of the rest, just a few specks, probably flew atop her head while she had been kneading the dough for the bread.
“Hazards of baking I suppose.” Arthur muttered distractedly, fascinated with how her tight curls looped around his fingers.
“Oh yes, can be quite dangerous using flour, which by the way is the technical name used for it.” She replied teasingly, kissing around his lips with daring before whispering, “You are quite handsome.”
That brought out a cheeky grin as the egotistical part of him thought ‘well, of course it was true’. And yet it wasn’t more than a pair of minutes later after some deep scrutiny, she added on to the compliment. “And you have a glob of dried gravy on the tip of your nose.”
“Eh!” He wiped away at it furiously, causing her to catch his finger with laughter. “Well you do! Or er…did.”
Arthur decided that they’d engaged in enough talk. “Ah, kiss me and we’ll stop giving honest assessments of each other.”
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or kiss him as ordered. The latter won out as it was definitely a more desirable token of choice at the moment. He lay back upon her pillow with a relaxed smile. Pressing his lips up against hers, he bounced away too, playfully, giving light fast pecks now.
It was like a melody of affection. She smiled with contentment before strongly reminding him of one important thing. “This is my bed.”
“Hmmm, as I recall it was my bed that night I stayed here.” He kissed her languidly, before she pressed her fingers against his pouting lips.
“NO, you just assumed you could use it as your bed.” She continued to hold him off as his pout grew. The king liked getting his way.
“The purpose of this argument Guin-E-vere (he brought out with boyish emphasis on her name) is that I can call it my bed now because I used it once before.”
“Fine, should I have Merlin move it into your room and trade it for yours?”
He snuffed at that with ridicule. “Hah, my bed would take over your house.”
“Your bed would make it impossible to get to the door! And since when are we having an argument?”
He fingered her hair, pulling and swirling. He loved those tight little curls. “Since arguing means a necessitated make-up of feelings, which in kind means inappropriate behavior of physical solace that is quite exhilarating to engage in with you.”
Her head fell back with laughter at that so he growled and snatched her neck with his lips, bringing a solid closure to her giggles.
Instead a deep moan. “Oh Arthur…no…you won’t want to leave. I won’t want you to leave.”
His mouth was wet and hot against her skin, languishing. “I was thinking of staying anyway since your bed is my bed.”
She gave him a one eyebrow lift to that comment, making him giggle with more silliness.
Gwen rolled her eyes, getting up from the bed, and eliciting a most undignified groan from said king of Camelot.
“Such a noble sound.” She remarked dryly.
Standing up he snatched her waist against his. “Noble is null and void when you interrupt our romancing.”
She laughed some more, before sobering. “You’re king now. You and I both know that your staying here-
Another tight groan came from him, but he nodded his head. “Yes, right. Even though I hate it. I’m king, shouldn’t I have a say in my personal endeavors?”
It was part teasing, part seriousness. She smiled at him in apology, maybe making solace for both of them. “Kiss me goodnight Arthur. And I’ll see you tomorrow my Lord.”
He held her in his arms and did as ordered, forgetting all their fussing and play fighting. She kissed him back, feeling the solidity of his chest against her dress’s front. His hands cupped her cheeks as he whispered regretfully, “Goodnight.”
One last kiss and he was out the door. She stood against its closed structure, letting out a content sigh of pent up frustration. Ah, the blissful irritation of love…
The memory fading away, Gwen’s tears fell onto the pale ash tunic that she never thoroughly finished washing for him. All she’d done was wiped away the stain with soap and water that night. Now a furious determination drilled deep into her. She had to clean it all the way. She’d have to find her washboard and pan. Get some soap from the shelves. Fill the pan. Scrub hard and-
She gathered it all, feeling another hunger pang in her stomach. She clutched at its emptiness as she perused the room. After that time he stayed and wanted a bath, she tried to keep water around, just for her own self. Now she heated it before pouring the hot liquid into the pan. Some of it splattered away from its destination.
“OH!” Gwen let out painfully, feeling the high temperature of the water scald her fingers for a quick moment. Her face scrunched up at the temporary pain. Angrily, Gwen forgot her own discomfort, bringing the tunic into the water, giving it a good soak. And then bringing it against the washboard, she started to scrub rapidly. Punishingly, feeling tiny pricks of pain in her fingers that had been touched by the hot water, she ignored it all. So set upon her work, she didn’t hear the door open, didn’t know she wasn’t alone until a voice came from behind.
“Gwen.”
As she turned backward, Gaius frowned at the tears coursing down her cheeks, the way some of her fingers were tensing with some kind of anguish.
“I have to clean this. Return it to him. He came a few nights ago. I know I don’t have to hide it from you Gaius. You knew we were---together. And, well, he spilled some gravy and it made this mess. And now I’m soaking it in the water so he can have it back. But who’s going to give it to him? He doesn’t want to look at me. He hates me! And I don’t blame him. I don’t blame him because I hurt him so badly. I did something so awful. And WHY…oh WHY…”
Gaius put down the small pack of supplies he had brought and moved down carefully to the floor next to the sobbing young woman, so upset her words came out in rash mumblings. “Oh Gwen dear.”
His hands gently came to her shoulders and Gwen tried to push him away. “You shouldn’t be here. No one should be. He’ll be angry. He’ll be so-
Gaius brought an aged hand to her cheek with almost fatherly care, remembering for a moment her beautiful brave mother. How pained she would be to see her daughter hurting so. “He is the one who sent me Gwen.”
She stared at him, for a moment so hopeful. “Did he…has he changed his mind?”
Gaius looked upon the young woman with saddened eyes, shaking his head regrettably, realizing he might have just made things worse, but then taking in her throbbing fingers, he lifted the most affected ones up. “These look like burns Gwen .”
She dully looked down at her fingers, having almost forgotten the pain, uncaring. “They’re from the water. It was too hot and I spilled some.”
Gaius grimaced at that, before giving her a comforting smile. “We should get you up off the floor. I have bandages in my bag.”
Gwen allowed the elder man to help her to stand as he did too. She moved over to her dining bench, sitting upon it, leaving the pail and wash on the floor.
Gaius came to the bench now too, bringing out a few of the bandages to wrap Gwen’s fingers. “The burns are very mild. They should be healed by morning and you can remove them then Gwen, alright?”
She nodded her head, recalling something he had said when he walked into her home. “Gaius, you said Arthur sent you. Or did I hear you wrong?”
Gaius shook his head, touching at her hand now that the small bandages were in place on her fingers. “No. He sent me. He was concerned my dear. He said that when you…spoke to each other…he unintentionally physically hurt you and he simply wanted to make sure you suffered no injury before you left.”
Gwen lifted the sleeve of her dress, pointing to it, a mild red mark still left on her arm that would soon enough fade, but no kind of bruising or serious infliction. “This? Oh he should not worry about me so. It’s nothing.”
Her stomach grumbled angrily, making her clench it.
Gaius now knew that she was alright physically from anything Arthur might have inadvertently done in his anger, but her hunger was indeed something to worry about. Especially if she was to be off on her own, food might not be so readily available. It would cause much harm for her to leave here half starved. “Gwen my dear when was the last time you ate?”
Gwen shook her head. “It’s not important.”
He grasped her hand. “Yes it is. You must take care of yourself, especially if you are to find somewhere to stay.”
Gwen shook at that, new tears entering her eyes. “Stay? I have nowhere to stay. I don’t know where I’m going to go. I never thought I’d leave here. I never imagined-
Camelot is my home. I never thought I’d spend days not seeing him. I---
She got up off the bench, clutching her heart, bending over with the force of the invisible knife cutting through it. “Oh, I don’t know why I did it Gaius. I don’t know why I k-kissed him…Lancelot. I don’t love him. I just couldn’t-I couldn’t help myself. For some reason I can’t even explain I was drawn to him. But it’s Arthur-
Gaius listened until the young woman’s voice started to break with ravage and then he stood up, caringly bringing her into his arms. “Oh Gwen.”
She sobbed against his shoulder. “It’s Arthur I love. Arthur who I wanted to spend my life with. And now it’s ruined. It’s all ruined.”
Gaius whispered soothingly, rubbing her back patiently. “Perhaps, perhaps not.”
Gwen pulled back from him some questioningly. “Gaius?”
He smiled, recalling it, her. “I knew your mother Gwen.”
She wiped at some of her tears. “You did?”
Gaius nodded solidly. “Yes. She was a good woman.”
“Unlike me.” Gwen remarked dryly, already having received some of the looks, heard the whispers about her from some of her former friends. Others just gave her sad expressions, but were unwilling to speak to her because of her banishment.
“No. That’s not true my dear. She was much like you. Lovely and kind hearted. Strong and forgiving. When she became ill, she fought it so bravely. And when she knew there was no more fight to be had, she made sure of everything for you and Elyan.”
Sadly Gwen stated, “I don’t remember her, except for one bit of memory, but it’s always been too fragmented. I can’t hold onto it. I can’t see her. I wish I could have before she…departed.”
Gaius nodded his head. “I do too. You may not know all of this. Part you will. Your mother worked for Leon’s family. They loved her dearly because she was so hardworking and just a lovely person. Many grieved when your mother passed on, Gwen. It was hard for those who cared about her so. But before the illness got too bad, your mother took on Ingrid’s role for a very short time.”
“Who was Ingrid?” Gwen asked curiously, tears starting to dry on her cheeks.
“Arthur’s nanny when he was just a young prince.”
“Oh.”
Gaius continued, “Ingrid was away visiting her mother so for that period of time your mother took on her duties of caring for the then infant prince. It was only a few months after you were born, several more after his birth. One day, your mother came into my chambers with both of you in tow.”
Gwen listened with deep interest, a temporary reprieve from all her troubles. Any retell of her mother was a sweet blessing.
“Unfortunately what should have been a time of deep celebration, the prince’s birth, was a mournful one because of the queen’s passing moments after he came into the world. The purge that followed too brought on much grief.”
Gwen nodded. She and Arthur both were too young to have seen the deepest horrors of the purge, but she could recall the invasions of Druid camps, burnings at the stake, and even a few child drownings, painful parts of Camelot’s past.
“Because of this, most likely, and the fact that the king, at that time, had difficulty in being demonstrative with his son, the prince was known to cry quite a bit.” Gaius didn’t tell Gwen now the full extent of this. In truth Uther could barely look at Arthur after his birth. For a sum of many months the man rarely touched his infant son.
Now Uther would go on to love Arthur fervently, but he would always have difficulty with showing his son the physical adoration of his love. The delicate and yet vital Ygraine had always been better at that. It was a side of her being that she passed on to Arthur. Gaius saw it from time to time, especially when someone was hurt. His gentleness would show then, and what his father had so much difficulty with, Arthur would just genuinely display.
As Gwen smiled sadly, Gaius continued.
“That day as he cried your mother laid him down on a cot, resting you nearby. And Gwen, the most peculiar thing happened. The young prince stopped crying. Your close vicinity seemed to calm him.”
“What?”
Gaius smiled. “So you see my dear. Perhaps this is it. But perhaps not. Your mother only called you Guinevere. She said it was a name that would always be remembered for its importance. And I believe she was right.” He clasped her hands. “Gwen, he sent me here because, yes, he is hurt. But he still cares. Perhaps time can heal.”
She hugged the elder man, not sure where the future was to lead, but heartened by the story. As she was pulling away a knock came at the door, the back one. Before she could get there, another rap of sound pounded at the wood. “I’m coming.” She announced a bit restlessly, wondering who would be so impatient. She opened it to a face of scraggly beard and surrounding dark brown waves of hair.
“Gwaine?”
He was grimacing tightly, looking not at all happy. Gwen stared, before she felt a bear hug surround her small frame. “Gwaine?” She asked unsurely before she got her better sense and pushed him away. “No. You shouldn’t be here. Arthur would not approve.”
Gwaine placed his hands on his waist solidly. He didn’t really get any of this. It made no sense. Gwen was no fickle woman. She wouldn’t agree to marry a man and then be seen with another. She just wouldn’t do it. Something wasn’t right here. But whatever that was, it simply didn’t matter. He had liked her since he first came to Camelot and truthfully if her heart hadn’t belonged to Arthur he definitely could have seen himself honorably pursuing her.
Anyway, for now she was in need of help and he had two strong arms to offer it.
“Well then it’s just between us. Here…” Gwaine took an uncooked chicken out of a burlap bag, as Gwen shut the door, ushering him all the way in. “I’m assuming after spending a night in the dungeons you haven’t eaten much, so that can be dinner.”
Gaius came over with a smile. “Ah Gwaine, I’m glad you brought this. You’re right. She hasn’t eaten much so I can start cooking it now.”
“Perfect.” Gwaine grinned at that even as Gwen still looked unsure of it all. He knew that she was thinking of their welfare, but heck, if the king had an issue with this, he’d deal with it himself. She didn’t need to worry. “And I have two muscled arms ready for-
Gwen stared at him. Another hug?
Gwaine gestured around the room, grinning. “Ready for helping you pick up all this stuff and getting it packed.”
Gwen smiled, feeling tears welling in her eyes again. She was so grateful to the both of them. Gwaine moved in closer, telling her quietly, “You know Elyan wanted to come. But he’s so much about protocol and all that. He said anyway that he hopes you are well which I kind of laughed at. Of course you’re not well, but no one works harder than you. And you’re brave to boot. You’re going to be fine Gwen. But if it ever gets too hard, if you can’t take it, don’t hesitate to come back.”
Gwen shook her head, frowning. “Gwaine, you’re a knight of Camelot. You can’t help me.”
“Deal with that if the time comes. You’re my friend and that’s all that matters the way I see it. You need help, you come back.”
Gaius came over, having prepared the chicken for cooking and so now he was wiping his hands on a rag. Gwaine’s offer was generous, but couldn’t be easily delivered. He had an alternative solution based on what the king himself said. “That won’t be necessary Gwaine. I know a place you can stay Gwen. It’s hard work, but you’re no stranger to that. It’s a nice village outside enough of Camelot that you won’t have to worry about meeting up with anyone you don’t want to. And it should be quite safe. “
Gwen smiled gratefully, feeling more of those tears welling in her eyes. Leaving Camelot would be the hardest thing she ever did, but it was so good to have dear friends who cared this much.
So good.
***
A voice rung Arthur out of his reverie.
“I thought I made it clear earlier that I didn’t want to be disturbed. You can leave.”
Gwaine pushed through the door anyway. He had a delivery to make and a few things to say. He knew Merlin was feeling awful about all this too, but as he was just a servant, one of Arthur’s closest friends and Gwen’s too, he was torn between complaining boisterously and supporting his king. Gwaine, on the other hand, felt as knight he had a right to say what he needed to.
“This will only take a moment.”
Arthur moved away from the door, frowning. Gwaine went on. He knew he was sometimes seen as the fool of the group, the funny knight, but he had his moments of seriousness too and this was one of them. “Look, Arthur, I’m truly honored to be a knight of Camelot. That’s why I’ve kept my mouth shut a lot. But I have to say something on this and you’re going to hear me out.”
“I’m your king, Gwaine, remember that.” Arthur testily reminded. His sorrow was swelling into anger.
Gwaine just shrugged and held it out. “Here, she cleaned this for you. Asked me to bring it because she said you wouldn’t want to see her.”
Arthur looked down at the pale ash tunic, the stain completely gone, and the material smelling fresh and tidied. Slowly he took it from Gwaine, not saying anything for a handful of moments, and then, “Thank you.”
“She’s the one you should be thanking.” Gwaine muttered, before going on. “I helped her pack. You know, one day to get all your stuff together isn’t the easiest thing to do. And I brought her food because I doubt she was given much to eat in the dungeons last night.”
Arthur sighed heavily.
Gwaine knew he was pushing his luck, speaking so forcefully, but he couldn’t contain it. “I do all you say Arthur. I’ve pledged my life to serving you, but she’s my friend so I’m not going to apologize for helping her.”
Arthur lowered his eyes to the floor, the tunic reverently grasped in his hands as he whispered, “I don’t want you to. I’m glad you made sure she was well.”
Gwaine looked at him with shock now. “What?”
“I meant it.” Arthur studied the clean tunic, taking in the scent that always seemed to be there when her physical presence touched something, floral, sweet. It made him feel painfully dizzy. So empty without the support he was used to. “She hasn’t left yet. I’m not going to stop anyone from making sure of her welfare while she is still here.”
Gwaine smiled. Arthur wasn’t finished though as he now lifted his head strongly, king in full effect.
“But hear me on this Gwaine and make your choice soon. For I won’t tolerate any indecision. After she is gone tomorrow, I don’t want to hear her name anymore. I don’t want to see anything of her. You will keep your feelings about all this to yourself. Once she is gone, that’s it. She made her decision and I have made mine. Guinevere will be banished from Camelot in the morning and any mention of her will not be allowed. Now you pledged your allegiance to me over a year ago. If you cannot agree to what I have just said, best you speak up now.”
Gwaine let out a heavy grunt, angry and understanding the same. Just none of this was right. “I don’t believe she meant to hurt you. Gwen is not mean or uncaring.”
Tightly as he fingered the tunic, Arthur shook his head, feeling his heart shake. “I don’t think she is either, but she cannot stay in Camelot. I don’t want to see her anymore. You understand?”
Gwaine sadly nodded. He truly did have deep respect for Arthur, but this decision was just so ravaged. “I do. But you should probably know I told her that if she needs anything she can come to me.”
Arthur frowned tightly, before letting out, “Fine, but then you leave Camelot too if it ever comes to that.”
Gwaine couldn’t help his frustration. “Arthur there’s something very wrong here! Don’t you feel it? I watched her the night after you proposed. She’s never been happier.”
Arthur fought inwardly, knowing this conversation would have to end soon. He needed time to himself. “Neither have I. Gwaine, I’ve said all I have to on this matter. In the morning she will leave and that will be it. Now if you don’t mind…I’d like to be alone.”
Gwaine had so much more he wanted to say, but the dismissal was curt and to the point as Arthur now turned away from him, looking out the window.
Gwaine departed the room, closing the door behind him.
At its first sound, Arthur’s tears fell onto the pale ash tunic.
***
The king rushed back to Camelot, riding his horse at an urgent pace. Wrapped around one of his fingers was the ring on its leather cord. It had been weeks since he last saw her. He had actually mentally prepared himself to marry the Princess Mithian. It wouldn’t have been that hard of a task. She was quite lovely and engaging. Only during her stay Arthur now realized shockingly he had tried to bury his heart. Now that he had the ring, it was like shocks of lightning burning his skin. Every curtain he had tried to close over his eyes blew away. His body shivered with long forgotten awareness.
Questions wracked him. How did the ring get out there so deep into the wood? Was she angry enough to throw it away? Or maybe frightened, or desperate enough to have lost it somehow?
He could hear it faintly behind him, the princess calling out his name as she tried to catch up to him at the castle’s entrance. Arthur jumped off his horse, not able to respond yet. There was someone he had to see.
Arthur rushed up the steps, feeling Merlin coming behind, calling out to him also as he reached his side.
“Not now Merlin.”
“Arthur!”
“Not now!”
He swiftly made his way to the physician’s quarters, mildly pushing away Merlin as the servant stared at him curiously. “Why are you coming here?” He asked.
Arthur shook his head. “I need to speak to Gaius, Merlin. Alone. Please.”
Merlin was upset for a reason he couldn’t share with Arthur. He knew the deer had been Gwen and that meant she was harmed, and yet because he was servant and it was daylight he couldn’t go to her yet. “Arthur, look-
The king used his role to be brusque, rude. “Merlin, I said I need to speak to Gaius alone. Now go busy yourself with my horse. He needs a wipe-down and the stables are looking filthy.”
Merlin looked affronted, before he coldly replied. “Yes, Sire.” The servant hurried down the steps, away from his master.
Arthur let out a heavy sigh. He hadn’t meant to be that coarse. Merlin’s council, oddly quite wise often, truly meant something to him, but for now, he needed to speak to the physician who had treated him honestly since he was a boy, who gave his allegiance to his father when so many others turned away.
Stepping into the room, seeing the physician at the back, working on a remedy, Arthur quietly whispered. “Gaius.”
The elderly physician came over to him. “Sire.” He studied the younger man for a moment, noticing that his expression was troubled and more revealing than it had been of late.
Arthur unraveled it from his fingers where he’d been holding onto it since they had departed the wood. “During the hunt I found this. It’s the ring I gave…” He stumbled on the word, a name he promised himself after her banishment he would never speak again and yet it was so deeply drilled into his heart it was stupid to assume he could keep such vow. “Guinevere.”
Gaius took the ring from him, staring up at the king, not quite understanding the meaning yet.
Arthur continued, “I never asked for it back. I think because it was on this length of leather, she had been wearing it.”
Gaius nodded. “I suppose that is possible.”
Arthur let out a long drawn sigh, trying to not make so evident the shakiness of his breaths. “Gaius, did you tell her somewhere to go? I remember I mentioned to you I would not take issue to if you knew of a place, safe, hospitable.”
Gaius smiled at that mildly. As much as Arthur had made up the pretense for this wedding to Princess Mithian it was not hard for those who knew him well to see. His heart was somewhere else. “I did Sire. As I didn’t think you would take offense.”
Arthur shook his head rapidly. “No, that’s fine. I don’t mind it. Just, it wasn’t somewhere within the wood, was it?”
“No Sire.” Gaius quietly added, “It was to a village where there are hardworking good people I know. It’s mostly farmland, less of forest.”
Arthur lowered his head, trying to deny the pricks of anxiety within his heart. A part of him wanted to just go find her, make sure she was safe. Another reminded that she betrayed him with another man, one he once considered a friend, long ago before things become much too complex. And a third even, fretted that maybe she discarded of the ring on purpose, upset with him.
But that third was the weakest, because no matter how much he hurt her, angered her, she was not so petty to throw away something he told her had been his mother’s and meant much to him.
So Arthur couldn’t help but wonder, even worry a little…
“I wonder how it got to the wood.”
Gaius carefully said nothing, seeing the trouble in Arthur’s face, but not sure how to approach the subject when the young man was his king and believed that the woman he loved humiliated and hurt him.
Arthur tightly clasped it back within his fingers, feeling he would get no answer and not sure why he would even want one. She was banished and so she was supposed to be forgotten. “Thank you Gaius.” He whispered softly before leaving the room.
Supposed to be forgotten and yet…
Love has a hard time forgetting.
***
Will be continued in Three: Hell’s Face is Fear
Excerpt: The smell of fires burning lifted with smoked irritation to his nose. Bodies littered the hallways, those of the enemy and those draped in red cloaks, knights and guards of Camelot. They had tried to get most of the civilians out that had been at the banquet, but Arthur wasn’t sure about those on the outside, the workforce and villagers who had not attended. As he slashed at another of Morgana’s men with his sword, bloodying its tip, he grunted with memory. There was something vitally important he needed to get, too precious to allow to be taken.
Author’s notes: I loved Gwaine in season three, but I thought he was mainly used as comic relief in season four. I wanted to give him some more substance because he definitely would have cared as much as Merlin and others that Gwen was banished. Elyan, we never got any strong indication of how he felt, but I wanted to at least mention he was troubled by it. The next update should be up soon. This one took a while because even though the fic is complete I’m working on something else and I’m still making some strong edits to this. So I’ll try to get the next one up sooner.
Thanks so much for reading. Feedback is adored. Thank you so much for your comments last time. They were wonderful to read/respond to.