Heatwave
Title: Heatwave
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen
Mood: passionate angst
Minor Character: Leon
Warning: adult situations
Summary: Arthur discovers Gwen as she is sleeping...naked.
Author's notes: Written for rainbowgraffiti's Summer Kinfest 2011//Takes place weeks after episode 2.04 so cannon alt//Anonymous Prompt: 'Gwen sleeps naked...as Arthur discovers by coughaccidentcough.'
Heatwave
***
It was there, all that pent up emotion he felt after seeing how their eyes found each other in the wood.
And also still there, were the waves of relentless heat that lately seemed to refuse vacating.
Normally while on patrol the prince was in full armor, but this night he wore just his red tunic. The color was probably the wrong choice since it reflected off the cycle of heat with trapping quantity, forcing him to sweat faster. Making the rounds he came to the market area, expression too close to bored. His father always insisted on this and he never argued the point, believing in safeguarding Camelot, but nights as torridly hot as this one he just yearned for a cool bath.
“Sire?”
Arthur turned as a knight in full armor came to meet him. “Sir Leon, you must be baking in that.”
Leon smiled beyond the grimace that summer’s swelter brought. “Yes, well, have to make do. I was just going to go check the houses beyond.”
It was almost like the sun had yet to go down, the way it felt outside. The castle was little better and he imagined most the houses too were quite warm this evening. Arthur turned in the direction Leon was pointing and shook his head. “Sir Leon, you’ve been out here longer than me. I can go check that area for you. Go, get out of that armor and take a respite from this heat.”
“Sire?”
“Go on Knight. I’ll take care of it.”
Normally Leon would argue the point, rising to his duty strongly, but the heat was making him feel lightheaded so he nodded his head with gratitude. “Thank you Sire.”
“Certainly.”
Arthur walked further to where the small residences were lined up, mostly surrounding the castle on its outer edges. He passed by one after another until he came to a particular home with a broom set against the front.
Stopping, Arthur noticed that the door wasn’t shut fully. It made him frown as he peeked through the open window, the interior too dark to see anything clearly. Well of course, it was late and most likely she was slumbering as peacefully one could in this heatwave. Brushing back a tendril of wet hair with his cuffed wrist, the prince grimaced with unhappiness. It had to do with more than just the door not being securely shut and locked.
Two weeks ago he rescued her from Hengist, surprisingly finding Lancelot there too. Days after that while on patrol, an uncomfortably warm night like this one, he noticed her door ajar. Only meaning to check for her welfare, he spotted her naked through the crack. A bucket of water out, she was bathing herself, distinct portions of her body barred to him by a curtain. He stopped himself from doing anything unseemly that night, leaving her to her bath, but as he departed, frustration and physical tension reigned supreme.
Now, his hand clenched, Arthur held to the door’s handle, shutting-
“Mmmmm…"
Something fluttered to the floor from, what he was almost certain, her bed. Arthur held at the door’s latch, stepped further into her house, negotiating his way in the dark. Surrounding him was the sweet scent of lavender, marred a bit by the uncomfortable heated interior.
“Mmm…" Her sigh fluttering the silence, Arthur turned, not thinking there could be any issue with it.
Her ecru skin shone like a golden lantern of burning fire as she slept, naked.
Arthur’s eyes widened. “Oh…” He whispered, stunned and simultaneously mesmerized.
She had been in the employ of Morgana for some years now so he had watched from a distance, and with not always the greatest attention, her growth. It hadn’t taken long for Guinevere to assume her womanly form fully, despite her modest height.
Now as she slept in full display, he felt it even more-so. Perhaps it was fate protecting her that shielded the most intimate parts. Lying so tranquilly on her side, her hands curled upward, hiding her round breasts. It probably wasn’t intentional, but to her fortune since unknowingly she was not alone. One leg bent at the knee hiding too the pocket of womanhood between her thighs. Her dark curls fell over her forehead, around her neck, and down her bared back. So dark, so luscious that they made him glimpse a moment more where her legs began, what her bent knee hid.
“Mmmm…" She murmured again, this time just bringing her arm up a bit, exposing more of her breast, but not so much for him to see anything yet too revealing. It was enough though. Arthur knew he was supposed to be the prince of this land, a noble man of Camelot, not a prying intruder. If she ever found him like this, it would frighten her, maybe even disgust her.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, turning away to pick it up, the blanket that had fallen off her exposed body. Gathering it into his hands, realizing too heatedly that it had just caressed all of her, he tried to deny the pleasure of the lavender scent; it echoed the fragrant flowers that adorned her house and often resided in her hair. Resisting so many temptations, including the fevered hardening of his body, Arthur lowered the blanket with as much tenderness he could muster.
“Mmmm…oh."
This time her eyelids fluttered.
Arthur held his breath cautiously. Laying down the gauntlet, fighting off bandits, and even going to war, those things never fully terrified him.
This did.
She stretched her arm out, revealing one flushed breast. He looked away, painfully, before he could see anything too deeply. Then as time passed so slowly, he turned back around cautiously, finding her eyes widely opened now.
“Sire?”
No, he wanted to say. He felt like no sire right now.
His mouth was too dry. “I-uh-
Looking down at herself and becoming fully aware of her stark nakedness, Guinevere tried to block Arthur’s view with her hands. He was barely looking to those areas anyway, focusing on just her astonished expression.
Dropping the blanket to the bed fully now so she could take it to shield her body, Arthur guiltily turned away, muttering explanation. “I didn’t know that you were-
“What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice rising with shock and embarrassment.
Arthur turned back around. She was too beautiful to be embarrassed. No need for it, especially after he entered without invitation. “I-
In all his shame and uncertainty it came out furiously without careful thought. “You should learn to close your door better Guinevere. You had it partially opened-
She held the blanket over her breasts and lower body defensively now. “And so what, you thought to stroll right through it? As prince of Camelot you felt you had that allowance?”
His body was unsettled with rushing feelings and physical elevations. The one real room of her home was an atmosphere too heat filled. And even though she had covered herself he still was acutely aware that the blanket was the only thing shielding her from him. His teeth gritted, “Not exactly. I was concerned for you. So I meant to just close the door, but then-
“Then, what?” She asked firmly, mouth parted with question.
Arthur stared at it, at the slight opening past her lips, her curls cascading over her bared shoulders. He felt himself tightening more. “You kissed him, didn’t you?”
She moved back closer to the wall, the question upsetting her accusation.
“What?"
“Lancelot. When Hengist took you both prisoner. You kissed him. He kissed you, right?”
She was completely taken aback. Bringing the blanket over her body more now as she caught him glancing at the rise of her breasts, she huffed angrily. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern. Now my Lord, I know I am just a servant, a handmaiden, but if you could see to kindly leaving my residence so I may sleep in privacy I would appreciate it. Quite, as it is unseemly for you to be here like this.”
“Did it feel better than when we did?”
“Arthur-
He sat down on the edge of the bed, bringing his hand up her arm. “Did it Guinevere?” Her skin felt so luscious, just a damp layer of perspiration upon it from the heat. He lifted his fingers higher until they landed upon her cheek. He curled them over her hot flushed skin. “I nearly went out of my mind when we found Morgana and you were not there. It was so hard to come back to the castle and pretend in front of my father you didn’t matter. All I wanted then was to find you.”
“Arthur…” Her voice was quieter now, emotion tinged. He was near exploding. Arthur moved further up the bed, catching how she, without thought, retreated further. She couldn’t be frightened of him, could she? No, she had to know.
“Then I saw you, and you were imprisoned, but okay. We were going to get you out. I was so relieved.
But in the tunnels, the way you smiled at him, that-
He had both hands on her cheeks now, molding where the bone fulfilled them. His eyes shut. “That---hurt.”
Reopening them, almost fearfully, he saw her midnight ones watching him with feeling. “I know I have no right to be here now like this. But I would never take advantage of you Guinevere. I just…”
He didn’t finish, closed his mouth over hers. She reacted with shock. He could feel it. Achingly, he pressed his lips more against hers, and then felt it as their tongues brushed, how she was succumbing to it. Wanting it too. Arthur groaned, hearing her slight moan. He kissed her more, feeling how her retreat ended, how now she started to press against him. He could feel the wetness of the heat where it sprinkled her collarbone, dampened her shoulders and back. The blanket seemed to be forgotten as the kiss intensified, the material descending slightly. Arthur brought one hand down her neck, down her back, feeling the solidity of her spine, and feeling within…
“Guine-
“Shhh…” She touched his cheeks. “No words.”
He nodded with approval. She smiled just a bit and lifted her lips back to his. The blanket was sliding further on her breasts. Down. He could feel their soft roundness come against his tunic. His hand lowered to her side as she kissed him further; he reciprocated. She smelled like lavender and the heat. He lifted his finger over her sides, feeling her shiver under the tickling pressure. As she came up against him more to be closer, he groaned.
He held onto her firmly, lowering her body just slightly to ease their nearness. The blanket slid more, revealing the shine of her breasts in the dark. His fingers slowly grazed over the shining skin, caressing.
He felt her retaliating reaction as her fingers invaded the strings of his tunic, climbed in to make him shiver with desire-
“Did you find him?"
“No, Sire. Perhaps he just went to visit a friend or someone."
“That makes sense, but I still want to be sure he is found. Arthur never leaves his post for too long, not without advance word.”
The interrupting voices outside stalled their movements.
“Oh no, they’re looking for you.”
Arthur grimaced tightly. His father was concerned because it was true, when on patrol he always did his duty. If he ever had to abandon it, he told someone.
No one knew he was here; it had to stay that way for Guinevere’s sake. “I’m sorry.”
She wrapped the blanket fully around, tucking it in under her arms tightly. Quick to action, understanding this couldn’t go on with them searching for him, she gestured, “The back door. Come.”
He followed, speaking words he pained to grit out. He had to get out of here now though. It was too dangerous for her. There was no telling what his father would do if he found them like this. Not to mention all her dignity could be spoilt in one blow. This looked too incendiary. “Guinevere, we can’t. This can’t happen again. I made a mistake coming here. I never should have-
She turned back to him and his heart exploded. She was so beautiful, so spellbinding in the moonlight as now she cracked open the back door just enough to allow him release. “Of course. I understand.”
No, she didn’t. Arthur, gripping the blanket, grasped her firmly against him. He whispered against her face. “I don’t mean it that way. I meant-
“I know…” She whispered back. “I understand my Lord.”
He looked at her with hurt, pleading. He didn’t want to be Sire or Lord now. He just wanted to be-
“Arthur...”
His eyes closed tightly. He felt her breath against his cheek. Lavender. Flowers.
For one second they blasted away summer’s heat and the volcano of duty.
“I know.” She whispered more strongly, as his eyes reopened and he moved his lips down to hers with ache. Time was so rarely kind.
“Head that way to see if he is-
“Go.” She pressed at his chest, pushed him unwillingly out the door.
Raw clawing frustration raced through his body. Tight hard unhappiness. Why couldn’t this just be? Why couldn’t-
“I love you.”
He told her, catching the spark light up in her midnight eyes as she shocked, and thrilled.
And mourned...
For love was not enough.
Not yet.
He slipped out the door, rounded the area, and called out to his father when he was sure he was far enough to not cause threat to her.
“I’m here Father!”
Not Arthur.
Prince Arthur.
He stood in the torrid heatwave.
Separated from the sweet lavender.