Shared Chambers: All
Title Shared Chambers: All
Rating PG13
Characters/Pairing Arthur/Gwen {also Merlin and George in this one}. Also Tyr's mother Gelda {thank you pastelwinter for the help with her name}
Word Count 7,916
Warnings/Spoilers spoilers for series 5, 5.01-5.09 / mature situations at times
Author’s Note This is a scene extender that probably goes quite AU after a while. I don’t think the show is going to give us this for 5.10, which is fine, looking forward to what they do give, but this is what 5.09 inspired in me. Bradley and Angel were just beautiful in once again bringing Arthur and Guinevere to life.
This one’s a belated present for belindapendragon who is a wonderful positive part of tumblr and who recently celebrated her birthday and for the wonderful ella_rose88 because she is such a dear friend and so talented.
Shared Chambers: All
Gwen pushed to get away from him. It hurt, and it made her angry, how he kept forcing his hands upon her. How dare this stupid man keep forcing her to listen to him! Had no right. She didn’t love him. Everything she did, it was for Camelot’s rightful queen. It was for Morgana, who would make everything alright. She would keep away the black slime. Morgana. Not Arthur.
Oh what was he saying now? Still forcing her to listen, his hands gripping her arms so hard it made her even more furious. He needed to let go! She didn’t want his touch, she didn’t want the black slime to invade. She didn’t want-
Wait. Suddenly he was letting go. He said something and his hands were letting go afterward. He said something so potent. So-
“With all my heart…”
And he kept saying it. She watched with confusion as he backed to the water. But something was lifting. Some cloud over reality, some block on her heart, was slowly ascending. It was sliding past and letting her see again.
He stopped holding her so hard, and now he just moved to the water, watching her. Watching. Repeating it one last time.
No. It wasn’t him. It was her. It was coming from her lips. Being whispered out. As she could feel it. The truth, eking its way past the black slime. Gasping to be let go.
He entered the water, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. And yet there was worry in those eyes. There were touches of fear. He had let her go and now he was scared she might run. She could feel it.
The other part yanked, clenched, telling her the black slime would cover her body, would take over if she did not listen to her rightful queen.
She could not though. She could not run away from this. Not from his hand extended, coaxing her to come. To be with him in the water.
It pulled her feet apart. It made them tread forward. She took each step like a babe first walking. But she made each move, past two others that were there. It did not matter. Her eyes were only for the man standing in the water, waiting.
She felt herself entering, his fingers grasping hers, his hold so gentle, and yet firm. She feared for a moment. What was she to do, drown?
But no. He gestured just with his eyes, with a slight nod of his head to keep going. They told her everything. That she was safe. That he would let no harm come to her. That this was the way it had to be, must be, and she needed to enter more. She needed to fully be in the water.
So Gwen nodded, and took more steps toward the middle. A voice was coming from behind, not Arthur’s, another one, chanting, yelling words. It was all so foggy though, as something else was so much more vibrant, clear. A cloud just kept lifting. A haze kept blowing away. A heart became unblocked. As whatever that horrid black hanging thing was, disintegrated from her soul.
Oh.
She was free. In the water. Free.
Her husband, her beautiful dear husband standing there just a few feet away. Her Arthur. Her oh so precious Arthur.
It felt like years since she had seen his face, his strong body. And his eyes, there was so much pain in them now, so much uncertainty. So she smiled with all her new awakening, brought out her hand. Beckoning to him. Come to me my husband. Come to me now. I love you with all my heart. Arthur, come.
And finally he did. Was. Treading across the water to her, getting there as fast he could. She kept raising her arms to him and then when he was there clasped him against her heart. Held him ever so near. As he grasped her too, held her tightly also.
It felt like so many moments they stayed that way. In his arms, holding him in her arms, she felt so warm, so loved, so passionate about life. In his embrace all was as it should be. No separation. No ugliness of uncertainty.
He had to pull away though for a bit, gazing at her still with a tread of uncertainty, even after his relieved sigh, even after his fierce hold. She smiled, touching it with both her hands. “With all my heart Arthur.”
The tears formed in his eyes, fell into the healing waters of where they stood. They floated among them, his salt to the fresh flow.
“With all my heart Guinevere.” He whispered back and he was moving forward again. So was she. Forgotten was anyone past them. Their eyes only could see each others. Their hands found skin and fabric. And their lips came together. She tasted his kiss, his tongue roll into her mouth, as he forgot they had an audience, as that audience discreetly turned away. She could hear his breath clutching, shivering. The waters were cold, but it was more than that which made him shake. Made her too. She waited for the sweet heat of his mouth to be parted from hers, before touching his arm, feeling the strong links of chainmail under her hand.
“Let’s go home.”
He sighed, gathering her by the waist, so they could walk out together…
…
These were Gwen’s thoughts of remembrance as she and Arthur entered their chambers. She looked down, seeing the mess her royal blue dress was, and noticing how pale his face was. Tired. Both of them so tired.
“Arthur…”
He pulled her against him, bringing his chin over her head. “I’ve missed you.”
That was odd. She knew why he said it. But the oddness was in that she didn’t feel like she had ever totally been gone. If she had, how could she remember Elyan’s death? How could she recall being in bed with her husband, loving him? How? Blurs and yet queer clarity also…how?
“I wasn’t me at all then?” She asked with confusion.
Arthur amended his words quickly. Never once in their bed did he feel his wife wasn’t with him. When they celebrated, when he gave her gillyflowers, all their love makings felt as vivid as ever, no difference, no bit of loss. But now he knew she was in a haze of confusion during that time too, with the most horrid moments completely blacked out it seemed.
“No. It was you. Of course it was you.”
She frowned.
Arthur let out a sigh. She needed to rest. That was all. After all she’d been through, the trek through the woods, his wife required slumber. And at the moment, he wouldn’t mind finding it with her. “Guinevere…let’s just go to sleep.”
She nodded her head quietly. Together, they helped each other with their clothing, got it all off and then put on their sleeping attire. He gazed fondly as she lifted the cream colored material of her nightdress over her naked shoulders, past her exposed breasts. It slid over her thighs, and found her ankles in the end. Then he pulled back the covers.
Gwen gratefully got inside, lifting her arms afterward to him. “Arthur…”
He climbed in too, moving against her side, and taking her into his arms. “Here.”
“Mmm…” She pressed into him, holding his shoulder and chest, her legs tangling with his. She breathed with a hint of complaint, moving against him even more. She’d never needed to be so close. It was like her body wanted to become one with his. Let it be that in sleep.
“Shhhh…” He coaxed, holding her tighter, and getting her to finally still. “I’m here, alright? Always here Guinevere.”
She thought of Elyan for a moment and burrowed harder into him, a sob escaping her mouth.
“Guin…” His hand kept stroking at her hair, his fingers tangling into the curls. They would both need a bath later without a doubt, but for now, to just be close to her, was what felt right. Hearing her start to cry though, that brought on a plague of pain.
“Elyan. I can’t believe he’s gone. I’ve felt the pain of him being torn from me, but now it’s sharper and now-
“I know.” If he could hate someone, completely, a part of his heart now did hate Morgana. Oh it hurt, her betrayal, but the anger was there too. Full of fury like a thunder cloud that swelled with torment. It was one thing to come after him, but after his Guinevere? No. Not his love.
Guinevere never once hurt anyone, especially Morgana, and that was how she was repaid, with evil treads of sorcery. Well gauge your war carefully Morgana, he thought, because you made the mistake by going after my wife. I won’t let you touch her ever again.
“Arthur…”
“Oh.” He pulled her harder against him, kissing her lips as his hands pressed against her cheeks. Just like her, he wanted no separation.
“Arthur, how long was I under Morgana’s influence?” Gwen pressed her hand against her husband’s chest, stroking the finely haired skin. “I don’t remember the exact amount of time. I know some things I did and felt then, but a lot of it too is foggy and-
“Guinevere.” He whispered quietly, to get her to be silent.
“How long Arthur?”
He let out a wearied sigh. “Some weeks, close to a month.”
She echoed his words, with surprise, and dread. “Close to a month?”
“Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “Now don’t dwell on it.”
He brought her in tighter against him as he shifted his head on his pillow to be comfortable, to make sure she could relax her head upon hers. But then-
“And in that time, what exactly did I do? So deeply under her influence, how did I serve her?”
He was trying to close his eyes, but her words wouldn’t let him. Bringing his hand through his hair tensely, he looked, seeing her eyes fixedly on his, needing to know. He didn’t want to tell her though, didn’t want to hurt, didn’t want to burden. She had the purest most beautiful heart he ever knew. She gave it to him entirely when she married him. And Morgana played with that. She stabbed it with her dark magic. She turned his Guinevere into her puppet of choice. But the witch should have known. No way would his wife ever totally succumb to her whims. She was stronger of soul than that.
And yet…
“You just did some things that she wanted you to.”
“Did I hurt anyone?”
Seeing the plead in his wife’s eyes, hearing the ache in her voice, Arthur felt the wetness well in his. This was worse than just trying to kill someone. Morgana tried to twist his wife’s soul. She had no right. No right at all. “No. You hurt no one.”
“Arthur-
He grasped her arms. “Guinevere, it helps none to talk about it. It’s over. That’s all that matters. Morgana can hurt you no more.”
Gwen sighed, seeing that as hard as this was for her, it was equally hard for him. He was making it about his guilt very possibly that he hadn’t protected her well enough. “Arthur, did I hurt you?”
He shook his head hard.
Seeing that this was maybe too much, Gwen moved forward on the bed, cupped her husband’s face. “Arthur?”
“No.”
And she knew he was lying. His eyes averting themselves from her. She knew.
“That’s not true.”
Arthur lifted his head some, focusing on the ceiling. He now knew she poisoned him. But to him it wasn’t really Guinevere that poisoned him anyway. It was Morgana. Because it was Morgana’s will. It was Morgana that killed Tyr and that young boy. It was Morgana who set everything up because of her sick lust for the throne.
Arthur ruled with pride sometimes, but mostly with his heart, he tried. He wanted to protect Camelot, protect what his father created, even with all his faults. He wanted to rule over the greatest kingdom he ever knew with love at his side, with his wife giving him council and showing her firm authority that balanced of heart.
“You didn’t do it. Morgana did.”
Her expression was a frown. Arthur pulled her against him. “Can we sleep now? Guinevere?”
She stroked his cheek, to the line of his hair, seeing the weariness there, the treads of worry. He could not tell her this. She was seeking out the wrong person. Arthur did not have the strength of heart to do it. “Yes. Let’s sleep my husband.”
He nodded with relief, pulling her against him, and feeling her hold him in return.
Sleep. That’s all they needed. Everything was over.
All done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A knock.
“Come in.”
Merlin gave a small smile. “My Lady, you need me to do something for you, the laundering, the-
She put up her hand. “No.” Arthur was at a council meeting. Usually she would attend too, but he insisted that she get more rest after her ordeal. She didn’t fight him on it, wanting this moment.
“Then what is it I can help you with, um, my Lady-
“Merlin- Her brow crinkled. “We are friends still, yes?”
He stopped all his fussing, focusing in on her troubled expression. She looked the same as always, beautiful in her lavender dress, but she also looked troubled. No wonder after what she’d been through.
“Merlin?”
He smiled softly, taking a step forward to meet her extended hand. “Yes Gwen. Of course we are.”
She nodded her head with conviction, leading him further into the room so he could sit at the table. She sat at the bench that sat near the window, adored with lavender fixings. “Good. Then you will tell me the truth.”
Merlin frowned at that. “What do you mean?”
She cleared her throat, like how her whole mind was starting to clear now, but needed more answers. “What happened when I was under her influence Merlin? I know the time I spent with my husband. And I know bits and pieces. I know Elyan died…” Her voice broke. “In my arms…I know that. But what I can’t recall is what I did for Morgana. And yet I know I had to have done much. If I hadn’t, it would not have lasted so long. I must have been successful in some things. So please Merlin, what did I do?”
Merlin could see his friend’s pain clearly, but this was not right. Arthur might not like it. “It’s not me you should be asking, Gwen. It’s Arthur.”
She shook her head profusely. “No Merlin, don’t you see? Arthur will not speak of it. He doesn’t want to hurt me anymore. But I must know Merlin. There’s this darkness there, this haze of feeling. Something horrible pulling me into this abyss, but it goes no further beyond. There are no answers. All I want are answers Merlin. So I can live my life with understanding.” She got up from the seat.
Merlin could see the tears in his friend’s eyes, heard the quake of emotion when she mentioned Elyan. It was so vivid to him, how Gwen was now fully Gwen again. So soft, so gentle, so firm, so determined. And someone who would recoil at what she did during Morgana’s influence. He got up from the table, shaking his head. “Gwen, I’m sorry-
She ran forward though, catching his hands, slowly turning him around. “Merlin, please.” She reached out, touched his cheek. “Please. I must know. Please.”
Her eyes were so big, so needing, and he felt himself having no choice. Yielding to them even as he feared this might be wrong. Not what Arthur wanted. Even as-
“Merlin.”
Even as there was no choice but to tell her. He gestured back to the lounge seat. “Sit down Gwen.” Then he moved his chair forward, sitting directly across from her. “You were under Morgana’s influence. Keep that in mind, alright? You couldn’t control it.”
She nodded, gesturing for him to continue. So Merlin did, painfully, uncomfortably. He told her the truth. When it came to the part where she poisoned Arthur, he watched her clutch her heart and stomach in revulsion.
“Oh God.”
Merlin brought out his hands, grasping at hers. “Gwen. You were not yourself. You did not mean to hurt him.”
“But if I had succeeded-
Tears fell down her cheeks.
“No. Gaius was able to stop it. That’s all that matters.”
She frowned, but gestured for him to go on. So Merlin did, coming to the part where he was put in the cells.
“Oh.” It wasn’t easy to hear. None of it was really. This horrible feeling she had, that was what Arthur was trying to protect her from. She knew it, but to sentence her own friend to death for something she actually did, that was horrid to find out. “Merlin I’m so sorry. You must know I would never want to hurt you. And I would never believe that you could even think of hurting Arthur. Merlin…”
He sighed, grasping her hand again, getting her to focus on him. One of the lightest moments of his life had been turning into the Dolma and ending this disgusting spell. Seeing Gwen and Arthur embrace, feeling their love even from so many steps away.
He knew of course it hadn’t really been Gwen doing all those awful things. It was Morgana’s influence, Morgana’s twisting of magic. He needed to get her to see that now.
“Gwen, I know you wouldn’t. I told you, that you can’t think it was you. Because it wasn’t. It was Morgana, Gwen. She enchanted you to do all those things, using the mandrake, using-
“You’re leaving something out Merlin.”
He was. Tyr. Merlin met Tyr through Gwen, years ago. She and he had been friends for quite some time. This would be the worst for her to hear. He was hoping to spare her from it.
“Merlin…you must tell me. I mean, how did it all start? What did I accuse you of exactly? Wanting to kill Arthur…but…the part before, it’s blurred. What was going on there?”
Finally he told her. He told her how Tyr was accused of tampering with Arthur’s horse. How Tyr was killed before the truth could be revealed.
“But who would do that-who-
Merlin didn’t even have to show a troubled expression. Gwen knew by his silence, by the awful heaviness that lay in the air.
“Oh no-
She pressed her hand against her mouth, tears rolling from her eyes. “No Merlin…please-
He grasped her hand tighter, pulling at his friend to bring her up from the lounge. “Gwen…”
“Oh for the love of Camelot…no…”
“Shhhh…” He pulled her in against him, somewhat awkwardly rubbing her back, knowing that if the king came in now, despite understanding they shared a friendship, he might just be a little peeved.
Gwen looked up into his eyes, seeing Merlin’s comfort there, but also feeling the horror of what she did. “How?”
Merlin shook his head.
So she asked it more pointedly, telling him she would not relent until he gave her clear answer. “How, Merlin? Tell me.”
It was the kind of firmness she used as queen, that she just somehow had so strongly in her, even though she started life as a servant. “Stabbed. He was stabbed.”
“Oh.” Gwen pushed away from him, going to the window, but faltering before she could get there, her mind and heart filled with so much revulsion. Flooded by it that she clutched her stomach. “Oh my God.”
Merlin reached out to her again, but Gwen pushed with her hand to keep him away, shaking her head. “No. Don’t.”
He stayed still, bouncing uncomfortably from one foot to another. “Gwen. It was Morgana’s influence.” He told her firmly. “You had no choice. I know that. Arthur knows that. It was the mandrake. They tamper with your mind. They grasp control of it and fill it with the darkest horrors. Gwen, men stronger than you physically, trained to endure such terrors could not stand it. You had no way to fight it Gwen. You cannot blame yourself.”
Still holding her stomach, she turned back to him now, her face flooded with tears, her brows wrenched in pain. “How do you know so much?”
Merlin swallowed. “Gaius told me.”
Gwen stared at him for a moment, before shaking her head. “Tyr’s mother? Gelda? How is she?”
Merlin cocked his head to the side for a moment. “She’s alright. I’ve been seeing to her, making sure she has friends around. It’s been hard. But she’s starting to heal bit by bit.”
Gwen nodded her head, asking, “And was he properly buried?”
“Yes. I made sure of it. Arthur too when he knew that Tyr did him no wrong.”
“Good.” Gwen whispered. But it wasn’t enough. She had to do more. She just didn’t know what yet.
Looking up, she told him quietly, her voice shaking, “I’m so sorry Merlin. I’m so sorry for what you must have gone through with all that, Tyr dying and then feeling like your own life was in danger. I’m sorry for all that.”
Merlin shook his head hard, gasping his friend, the queen’s hand. “Gwen, I don’t want you to tell me that. Because you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t-
“Someone stabbed Tyr, Merlin. Me.”
“No.” Merlin told her strongly. Shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter who physically did it. You didn’t do it with this.” He gestured carefully to her heart, not touching it, but bringing his hand over.
“You didn’t want to do it. And so it was not you. It was her. And one day she will be sorry for causing all this pain. One day she will…”
His look was so far away, like it often was now, distant, alone. Gwen brought out her hand, touched her friend’s shoulder, trying to bring him back from whatever far-away place he went to often now. “Merlin…”
Seeing her tentative smile, he smiled now too, gathering her into his arms again. “We’re all going to be okay, Gwen. Everything will be.”
She was thinking of things. Pondering on possibilities. “Yes, we will be. I’m going to need your help, but everything will be alright. Somehow.”
Merlin knew she was hurting still, in such pain because she was a person of such good truth of heart, and it was not easy for her to hear the veracity of what the mandrake could do. But there was no way he could have held it back. She would have found out, and better at least to hear it from a friend.
“Are you going to tell Arthur-
She pressed her hand against his shoulder. “No. Not yet anyway. Arthur has tried to keep all this from me. For good reason. Loving reason. So please don’t tell him either.”
Merlin smiled, needing to tease, hoping it could bring out her laughter. “No. Never even told him about that time you kissed me.”
She did laugh now, a burst of needed release. Couldn’t hold it back, her face filling with wonder. Innocence of long ago. “Oh Merlin, that was so many years ago!”
“You had a crush on me.” He was blushing some now as he said it, but teasing still.
Gwen shook her head. “No. I was just young and maybe a little besotted. You weren’t as arrogant as Arthur then.”
He smiled fully, before reaching out, touching her shoulder. “You’re alright?”
Alright? What was that even? There was something so terrible about living your life for weeks and only having minimal control over it. “I’m okay. Thank you Merlin for telling me it all.”
He didn’t really. Not so much about the part where the Druid boy died too, where she plotted with that awful king. But enough. Gwen heard enough. It was all Morgana’s doing anyway.
The part of him that was Emrys was determined to one day fully stop her. To never let this kind of pain happen again.
“Just remember Gwen. It wasn’t you. Don’t forget that okay? It was NEVER you.”
She nodded with shaky resolution. “I won’t forget. Thank you Merlin.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After her talk with Merlin about the truth of what had happened, Gwen did her best to make things right. With Elyan, all had been put into place already. He received the fitting knight’s send off to Avalon and beyond, that he should. Yet much of it was a blur.
So Gwen went back there herself one day. To send him off her own way, personally. It was a morning when Arthur was out of Camelot and so she was able to depart from the castle without much fuss. Taking her horse, she rode to the spot. Once there, she stepped toward the water, memories floating through her heart…
Of course he was no longer there. He had been taken to the waters, his body a pyre, but somehow she could still feel his presence, perhaps in her soul and so she smiled softly, looking around at all the nature, the forest trees, the blooming flowers, and hearing the trickles of lake movement.
She whispered.
“Do you remember when we were children Elyan? You were full of dreams always. I used to tell you sometimes to stop dreaming and start working, start doing your duty. Well you came to do that and more my brother. You were a knight of Camelot and I’ve never been more proud of you than when Arthur laid the sword down upon your shoulder and you became Sir Elyan.
You and I we did not always talk enough. We did not always spend the time together we should. You and I lived so differently at times, but we always came back to each other. Like when we went to go visit with Dad.
Oh Elyan…” She pressed her hand against her heart.
“I miss you so much. I feel a void in the knights now and I know they feel it too. Even Gwaine is more sober, thinking less of food.” She let out a trickle of laughter.
“Arthur is more protective.” She went on lifting her head some, shivering a tad. “Percival wears glimmers of sadness.”
“I remember so little of the dark tower. Arthur and Merlin say that’s for the best. That it was a place where bad things happened. I know that. I know what Morgana did there took a hold of me in awful ways.
But what I do remember of it is…” Her hand shook, the tears falling down her cheeks.
“Is watching you fall. And running to catch you. I remember holding you in my arms and begging Heaven to not take you from me. Pleading with Avalon to let you stay. I remember that because those feelings were MY heart. They could not be tampered with.”
There were treads of anger in her now along with the pain. She had felt herself experiencing it more, as she came to understand fully what Morgana had done to her. She took away her own conviction. But not even the darkest magic could fully steal her heart. It was there with Arthur in moments of love.
Oh the waking hours, the easy bits of day, it was a subterfuge, yes, but not in their bed, not when he kissed her, not when he loved her. Not all of that was some blade of pretend.
And it was never any blade of pretend either when Elyan ceased to breathe.
“I love you Elyan. And I am so proud of you. In your last hours you were the knight you wanted to be. You were a man of courage and honor. And no one shall ever forget that. I shall not. But beyond that, you were my brother, my family, my last connection to Dad, and because of that, my heart will have one tiny little hole in it. One more to join with the one that came from the loss of Dad. With that, I will always, forever remember you, live and love you.”
She bent her knees, dropping the flowers into the water, watching the gentle waves take them, watching them float away until they could no longer be seen.
Until…
“Goodbye my Elyan. Goodbye for now. One day we will see each other again, be with Dad, and my heart will rejoice. May Avalon’s blessings always hold you safe and dear.”
…
Gwen could remember that now as she sat upon the corner of the bed in hers and Arthur’s chambers. That was personal. That was her family. Beyond, in the past days, she had done more. She went to Tyr’s mother and confessed what no one else knew. She told her how the spell had taken her faculty and made her do that horrible deed. Now Tyr’s mother was a kind woman, but also a grieving one. She politely asked her to leave before Gwen could talk to her further. When she didn’t right away, Tyr’s mother rose with anguish, and so Gwen did leave the woman in peace.
It hurt that Tyr’s mother may never like her again, but Gwen didn’t care to indulge in her own sorrow. She instead enlisted Merlin to help her get a statue made. It would stand outside the stables, a likeness of Tyr and the horses he loved tending to. It would be simple, like Tyr, workmanship quality, like Tyr, but it would be a beautiful reminder of how special he was to Camelot.
Beyond that, Gwen made certain that Gelda's house be forever in her keeping. No one could take her home away from her. And past that even, without Tyr’s assistance in such matters anymore, she put in place an architect to fix any structural problems of the house and to keep a close eye for future ones.
Earlier that afternoon Gwen had been walking through the citadel, exchanging conversation with the merchants, and visiting with the people when a voice called out to her.
“My Lady…”
Wearing her burgundy riding dress, Gwen walked over quickly, although a bit unsure. “Gelda…how are you?”
The elder woman smiled. “I am doing well enough my Lady. Could I have just a tiny moment of your time?”
Gwen nodded. “Of course.”
Then she entered Gelda’s house with her. Before she could take much a look around, Gelda was moving to her knees. “I am sorry my Lady for treating you so wrongly before. I had no call to excuse you from my home. Please forgive me.”
Gwen stared down at the elder woman who when she was a girl would invite her for dinner, and who used to talk to her so familiarly. But now there was protocol and bits of division.
Still, Gwen bent some, reaching out her hand to take the other woman’s. “Gelda, please don’t. I am still Gwen.” She lifted at her to get her to stand. “You had every right. You were grieving. I understand that well enough after losing Elyan. There is no need for apology. I only hope that those bits I’ve done have helped some. Tyr will never be forgotten.”
Gelda smiled, tears glowing in her eyes. “Thanks to you my Lady. You are the most gracious and wonderful queen Camelot could ever have.”
Gwen shook her head, but said nothing. Then they sat down together, enjoying a bit of sweet bread and tea. Oh Gelda fussed about her so much still, now that she was queen. But for a few moments she actually forgot, calling her Gwen again, which made Gwen smile.
Now all that was done, everything she needed to put closure upon after the water and the sorceress’s freeing of her from Morgana’s grasp. Oh Morgana. There was a time Gwen still cared for her. But no more.
Perhaps she pitied her, but she no longer held the woman in regard. Morgana was cold, vicious, and nearly insane with her lust for Arthur’s throne. He was her brother and she would hurt him so? Taking away the woman he loved.
And what about the interactions of kindness they once shared? Morgana just forgot it all. That she could think she would use her as some puppet to mastermind everything she wanted, that she would use her to kill her own husband? The man she loved with all her heart.
No, Morgana was nothing more than a foe now. Someone to shriek at. And someone that sadly one day would have to be stopped.
With that grim thought Gwen heard the door open to their chambers. She looked back to see her husband, his handsome face smiling at her, before it furrowed into a frown. He knew her too well.
“Guinevere what is it?”
She moved to the window, seeing it starting now. The rain falling from the heavens. It would be one of Camelot’s first storms of the latter months that would lead to winter.
“Guinevere?” His hand was on her waist. She turned around to see his shaking worry.
“I know about Tyr.”
Arthur stared at her in shock. Everyone was sworn to secrecy. That it would not be spoken of ever again. That-
“How?”
“Merlin.”
Arthur’s look was furious. He started to stalk from the room, but Gwen caught his arm. “I asked him Arthur. I wanted to know. Do not be angry with him. He was reluctant to tell me, but as my friend, he revealed it. I left him no choice. I plead for the truth.”
Arthur squeezed her hands, his expression still troubled and questioning. “Why? Why would you want to know?”
“Because a life was taken, Arthur. Taken from his mother. Taken wrongly.”
He sighed, looking up to the ceiling, and then squarely in her eyes again. “You had no part of that.”
“I was the one who probably stabbed him.”
Arthur shook his head furiously. He hadn’t told her because of this. He didn’t want her to believe that she did anything horrible. Merlin should have kept his mouth shut, but he could see how persuasive his wife must have been, just by her need. She was quite good at that. “What you say is not true. You did not do such thing.”
Gwen smiled softly, walking toward her husband, clasping his waist with her hands, a bit surprised to see that at the moment he was wearing just his white tunic, not his chainmail which was the usual during the afternoon hours. “If I did, would you even tell me?”
His mouth had a firm flat line, his eyes looking around before they fixed back on her. It was answer enough.
Gwen pressed upon her toes, leaning in and kissing his lips quickly. “You would not. I know that because you love me.”
“Guinevere-
She put up her hand. “It’s fine. Arthur, I know that I was under a spell when all this happened. I have accepted that. But I still had to right the wrongs. Can you see that?”
Arthur nodded, saying nothing, and Gwen told him about what she had done for Tyr’s mother and how she went back to where Elyan had been laid to rest so she could properly say goodbye to him. Then she told him that these things were important to her to do, for they put closure upon the control Morgana had over her those days. Closure upon the pain it caused.
“That abounding heart of yours never fails to amaze me.” He told her when she was done explaining about the statue and everything else. Then he wrapped her into his arms. They stood silently for long moments, within their encircling chambers.
Then suddenly he spoke some interesting words.
“Fancy a picnic?”
Gwen pulled back from him with a furrow to her brow, gesturing to the window. “In case you haven’t noticed my dear husband, it is raining steadily outside. Now I doubt very highly you’re thinking to have a picnic in the mud.”
He laughed softly, rubbing her back with his fingers. “You’re right on that. I was thinking we could have it here.”
Her eyes widened and then suddenly he was calling out. In with precision of movement came George, all of the picnic attire in his hands. Arthur gave a small frown.
“Had to be George. You gave Merlin the whole week off.”
Gwen told him strongly, “Well he deserved it after all he had been through.”
Arthur’s eyes rolled. “Yeah, but George is very boring. And he does his job too well sometimes.”
She eyed him questioningly. “How can one do their job too well?”
Arthur pointed. “Watch.”
And so she did. George put down the blanket and all the food, settling everything into place, and then stepping back to assess. Not quite happy with the set-up, he rearranged it all. Then not quite happy with that, he rearranged some things some more.
“See what I mean?”
Arthur asked dryly as Gwen pushed her hand against her mouth to keep from giggling. It was quite amusing certainly.
“I mean, why are the grapes better on the left side and the meats are better on the right? Who really cares about these things.”
Gwen grinned. “George.”
“And on top of that Guinevere, he gets my armor so it gleams.”
“And that’s a problem?” Gwen asked with questioning bemusement.
“Yes!” Arthur let out excitedly. “It’s supposed to look at least a little worn. Adds knightly character. Merlin NEVER polishes it for so long that it shines that much!”
She giggled. “You’re missing your servant.”
“Bite your tongue.”
Her eyebrows came up.
He gave a saucy smile. “On second thought, how about I give a little bite of those ruby lips that-
He stopped mid sentence. George was rushing around them to get the pillows. Both Guinevere and him, just mouths inches away from each other, stopped to watch the spectacle.
George gathered all the decorated pillows together and plumped them up so they were quite fluffy. Then he scanned the picnic spot, one eye focusing sharply as the other closed to give it precise direction.
“I swear, it’s like he’s going into battle.”
Gwen hit at her husband’s chest to keep from giggling.
“Ow.”
“Quiet.”
George mouthed a silent ah-ha and placed the pillows in strategic spots of comfort. Then he stepped back from his masterpiece and gestured politely. “My Lord. My Lady. Is it to your satisfaction?”
Gwen stepped forward, smiling graciously. “It is wonderful George. Absolutely perfect.”
George gave one of his straight acknowledging smiles at that. Then he walked to the king. “Shall I get your coat Sire? Another tunic? Perhaps a cloak? Or-
Arthur eyed Guinevere sharply, silently saying with his eyes, Do you see what I mean? Before he smiled too at George. “No George. That is enough.”
“Very well Sire. I shall go now to make certain that your armor shines impeccably. If either of you shall require any more of my services please do not hesitate to call upon me. And now I shall be off.”
He was…off…with a bounding step of energy and protocol.
Arthur groaned, leaning against the bedpost after George was gone, muttering with exasperation, “I want Merlin back. George will drive me batty by the end of the week. I don’t want gleaming armor!”
Gwen giggled, catching her husband’s waist, and then gesturing to the picnic. It was so beautifully laid out upon the floor. So perfectly. She was almost afraid to touch any of it. Almost. “Well come on then.”
Before she could take more than two steps forward, he was grasping at her legs and waist, and she felt herself bounce upward into his arms.
“Arthur!” She giggled.
He pointed down to the floor with mock seriousness. “Oh but Guinevere! Do you not see the pond? I shall carry you over it so you will not get wet.”
She smiled widely at him, whispering. “You’ve spent too much time with George.”
Arthur let in dryly. “I’m surprised he didn’t use the pillows to lay out a path for us.”
She giggled some more and kissed his cheek twice. “Well I don’t mind. I happen to love your chivalrous nature.”
He grinned with satisfaction. “Well there we go then.”
Her fingers clasped to his neck and shoulder until he lowered her down to the pillows. Settling against them, she lifted her hands, gesturing for him to join her quickly. With a grin Arthur did.
The food was delicious. They delved into each dish or bowl, feeding each other too at certain intervals.
Finally each could enjoy. She had put closure on her time of Morgana’s occupation. Her overwhelming and abounding love was for her husband.
She gazed down now at his hands with admiration. They were so big, so finely lined. Scars here and there, tiny ones to be barely noticeable. But they were also not so rough to scrape her skin. Soft enough to hold her tenderly every time they did. Her gaze turned to his face. It had changed some in the past years. It was receiving its lines of age now more profoundly. She paid it no mind. She actually liked it. They made him appear more handsome, gave him golden maturity. And within it all he was still a boy often. Needing her assistance to find things as mundane as his comb or red tunic. Or perhaps just being silly enough to play out that act.
His gaze came to her and she smiled as he asked curiously. “You’re watching me?”
Gwen nodded faintly, stroking his hand with her own. “I am.”
“Why?”
“You are beautiful.”
He blushed some at that, before lifting from the pillows, bringing his back up straight. “You are more.” He whispered quietly, catching a curl on his finger, delighting at its soft coarse texture. And his bottom lip trembling a bit.
“Arthur?”
He held it a little more tightly, his other hand grasping her chin and cheek. “I was a little more scared then than I want to admit.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He swallowed. “Well you were no less loving, but after a while I could just feel it. Something was not right. There were things that no longer concerned you and that was not my Guinevere. She wouldn’t dismiss so easily.”
Gwen frowned. “Terrible things?”
He shook his head. “No. Just…never mind it. Anyway, I spoke to Merlin and he finally confessed his and Gaius’s suspicions.”
Gwen’s hands were in her lap, clasping tightly to each other as she lowered her head a bit. “I was awful to Merlin during that time. My friend and I treated him like nothing such.”
Arthur grimaced, but said nothing. Gwen could see though that his mind or heart was delved deep into some wonder.
“Arthur?”
He scooted closer on the blanket, keeping hold of her curl and cheek. “When you woke you were so angry. So upset. Every time I tried to hold you closer you sought to break away from me. I didn’t want to admit it then, but I was afraid I might lose you forever.”
“Arthur…” Her hand lifted, found his face, tendered against it. Such tightness in it. The lines so prominent with pain.
“And I couldn’t take that. I knew I was being forceful. I feared I might hurt you, but I just needed to pull you back to me. I needed my Guinevere back.”
She could hear the knife’s stabbing in his voice, the wound of ache, and it reached her heart, making her clasp it. Making her seek his lips. Kiss them. “Oh Arthur. I’m always here.”
She brushed away the tears that suddenly came from his eyes. Delved into them reverently. “Always Arthur.”
Relief flooded his mind with those words, that touch. It’s true what he just said. Those moments he was of iced fear. The Dolma kept telling him he had to let her go, it had to be of her free will, but it hurt so hard to do it. Made his heart pang like a hammer was hitting it over and over again.
“And that’s when it came to me.” He whispered to her now, pulling away to let her see his face.
“What?” Gwen asked, holding him in her grasp, holding him close.
“What you said when I asked you to marry me. It came because in those moments when you wouldn’t walk with me to the waters, I could feel my heart being hammered. It made me so afraid at first. And then I felt an inch of calm. Of quiet resolve.
“You said to me…”
She pressed her hand against his lip, her memory full now, her love complete. “With all my heart. That is what I said. With all my heart Arthur.”
He nodded. “With all my heart. And finally I saw it register. As I let you go. As I backed to the water. I saw it in your eyes. I saw it fill your body. I saw it light your face. I saw it make your heart beat faster. I saw it. And yet I still feared. I still-
He lowered his head and so she caught it with her hands, brought it back up gently, a new trail of tears there to join her own.
And she whispered. “I’m here my husband. I’m here my Arthur. My love.”
He echoed it shakily. “My love.” His mouth pressed against hers. His foot kicked away the forgotten dishes.
She clasped him tightly so his white tunic chest met her breasts. Their legs commenced to tangle. The pillows supported the new positioning of their bodies.
They lay together on the blanket, upon the cushions, but with no stillness. Frenzied hands clasped and squeezed. Like the rain outside, loved rained inside.
In the sweat of the makings of love. The glistening of revealed bodies. Skin upon skin, they thrust and vibrated. They cried out and bit down. Pulsing to each other they loved with passion’s fire, the only cooling, the tenderness of wandering hands.
They whispered words of secret eroticism and adoration combined. They opened eyes to see the action of the other. His lips on her nipple. Her hand thumping his manhood. A kiss upon lips. And through it all they could feel it. That ache of never-ending love. The kind that consumes so fully there is no end to it, no beginning, no mark.
It lived flush in their bodies from the first kiss and it lived there now in the moments of husband and wife secret interaction.
When his actions between her thighs, upon her woman’s bud of fervent feeling, made her head fall back, her curls falling in carnal disarray, he observed with a man’s groan of observance. And when she got him to bead with reaction, she enjoyed his trembling of excitement.
This was their love, uncontained, beautifully wild and giving to its seeking. This was their love, so aching with release and containment, so swollen with passion, that it filled their chambers now. Like carnal rain. Like intimate showers.
And when they lay later together, in entwined satiation, bodies still half glistening, limbs still coiled together, and naked, falling to slumber, they murmured to each…
“With all my heart…”
With all their hearts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I love this couple this so much. Along with a few other faves, they will always go down as one of the couples that filled my heart so much with their scenes. I wrote this rewatching the scene each time I started after a break because each time that scene took hold of my heart again, where they go into the water together. It made it so easy to write and just feel flooded with emotion. I adore writing these two I want all my readers to know. You give me feedback and it’s so lovely, but the process of putting this together is always just so fulfilling for me. Your feedback is just a beautiful way of telling me that what I enjoyed putting together actually worked. So thank you. And thank you to Bradley and Angel for making loving A/G {Arwen} such a wonderful thing.
Added to that, the Merlin Gwen scene was also a joy to write. I love their friendship. And hee, I love writing George too. He’s fun.
The show will not go down this route. I’m almost positive. It’s an ensemble show and so they have less luxury of time to deal with all the fallout of Morgana’s spell over Gwen. So that’s the loveliness of fanfic. We get to fill up all those little holes. Thanks.