Fic: And Not Feel Your Reign, Arthur/Gwen Gwen/Lancelot, G
Title: And Not Feel Your Reign
Author: kepp0xy
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot (implied)
Warning: Angst, sort-of UST, see A/N for spoiler warning/explanation
Summary: Gwen goes to Arthur the evening of her return from capture.
Author's Note: Not a real spoiler warning as this is based on events from episode 2.02, 2.03 and the preview for 2.04. It's definitely speculation, and probably wishful thinking. I wrote this on the plane home from London, while Gravity by Sara Bareilles played on repeat, so this is possibly more melancholy than I meant it to be. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it for what it is :] Comments are ♥ & concrit appreciated.
The evening breeze was particularly sharp, but Arthur welcomed the bite on his cheeks as he stood on the ramparts. It made everything else somehow feel less... severe. As though the cool weather froze the molten emotions running swift as rapids through him.
"I hoped to find you here," Guinevere said behind him. All comfort lost, Arthur's stomach swooped even as his shoulders tensed and he turned slowly to face her.
She had washed and changed. Circles sat in heavy smudges under her eyes painting her exhausted. He wanted to tell her to get some rest as equally as he wanted to ask her to stay. Instead, he only nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. She would speak in her own time, and he did not trust his voice.
Arthur could still see her hand grasped in Lancelot's, the affection in her eyes, adoration all over his face; Arthur only wished he could feel betrayed, or in the least intensely jealous, instead of the desolate ache of the loss of something never his in the first place.
"Thank you," she began softly, glancing away from his face to look at her hands. He wished she wouldn't do that. "For rescuing me."
"Of course," he replied. If his voice was a little hollow and his expression empty, he tried not to feel ashamed for it.
Guinevere nodded and bit the inside of her bottom lip. "Um, I also wanted to say sorry," she continued uneasily, watching him warily now from beneath her eyelashes.
"What for?" Arthur asked stiffly, feeling a frown crease his forehead without really meaning to. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as she stepped closer to him, standing just in front of him as she had the morning of the final match before gifting him with her token.
After swallowing, she tipped her chin up. "For hurting you," she whispered sadly.
If the terrace had collapsed beneath him just then, Arthur couldn't say he'd have minded a bit.
"Not at all," he finally managed gruffly, not quite meeting her eyes. "I obviously just... misread the situation between us."
"You didn't," Gwen replied sharply. Arthur did meet her gaze then, and the ache for her increased with her remorseful expression. "You didn't," she repeated, shaking her head for emphasis.
They stood awkwardly watching each other before Gwen finally dropped her eyes and parted her lips in the way Guinevere did when she had more to say but was hesitant to say it. He wished he didn't know that about her. "It's just... It's like you said, isn't it?" Gwen finally said softly. "The king isn't the only one who wouldn't understand... And one day, you will fall in love with a noblewoman and marry her." Her voice wavered just slightly with the last word. Arthur closed his eyes against a brutal wave of denial and Gwen paused until he looked at her again. "Lancelot and I -
"Of course you're right," Arthur said quickly, not thinking himself able to bear hearing her speak of Lancelot, entirely unable to witness that softness her expression took on, something she probably didn't even realise.
Guinevere, for her part, took a deep breath before clasping her hands in front of her with an acquiescent duck of her head. She really did need rest, he thought, studying her grayish pallor to avoid her eyes. But he saw as Gwen opened her mouth again and Arthur met her gaze to forestall her.
"When he returns to Camelot permanently," Arthur said, ignoring the churn of rebellion in the pit of his stomach. "I hope you're happy." He even thought he may have sounded as though he actually meant it.
He watched as her brow curved in an almost delicate frown, lips parting as though she were on the cusp of saying something again before she sucked in a deep breath instead.
They both knew - what else could be said?
Arthur hesitated, but he thought that perhaps he could recognise an ending when he was in the midst of one and so, once more, on impulse, he leaned down to her.
Guinevere's lips were as soft and full and fit as perfectly to his as he remembered. It took less than a beat before she had tilted her head and was kissing him back, pressing her mouth hard against his with something like desperation.
The ache in his chest peaked in response, whispering needily about forever, and Arthur wished she hadn't kissed him back.
He pulled away abruptly, stepping past her without another glance and left the balcony for the hopefully freezing sanctuary of his chambers.
Author: kepp0xy
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot (implied)
Warning: Angst, sort-of UST, see A/N for spoiler warning/explanation
Summary: Gwen goes to Arthur the evening of her return from capture.
Author's Note: Not a real spoiler warning as this is based on events from episode 2.02, 2.03 and the preview for 2.04. It's definitely speculation, and probably wishful thinking. I wrote this on the plane home from London, while Gravity by Sara Bareilles played on repeat, so this is possibly more melancholy than I meant it to be. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it for what it is :] Comments are ♥ & concrit appreciated.
The evening breeze was particularly sharp, but Arthur welcomed the bite on his cheeks as he stood on the ramparts. It made everything else somehow feel less... severe. As though the cool weather froze the molten emotions running swift as rapids through him.
"I hoped to find you here," Guinevere said behind him. All comfort lost, Arthur's stomach swooped even as his shoulders tensed and he turned slowly to face her.
She had washed and changed. Circles sat in heavy smudges under her eyes painting her exhausted. He wanted to tell her to get some rest as equally as he wanted to ask her to stay. Instead, he only nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. She would speak in her own time, and he did not trust his voice.
Arthur could still see her hand grasped in Lancelot's, the affection in her eyes, adoration all over his face; Arthur only wished he could feel betrayed, or in the least intensely jealous, instead of the desolate ache of the loss of something never his in the first place.
"Thank you," she began softly, glancing away from his face to look at her hands. He wished she wouldn't do that. "For rescuing me."
"Of course," he replied. If his voice was a little hollow and his expression empty, he tried not to feel ashamed for it.
Guinevere nodded and bit the inside of her bottom lip. "Um, I also wanted to say sorry," she continued uneasily, watching him warily now from beneath her eyelashes.
"What for?" Arthur asked stiffly, feeling a frown crease his forehead without really meaning to. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as she stepped closer to him, standing just in front of him as she had the morning of the final match before gifting him with her token.
After swallowing, she tipped her chin up. "For hurting you," she whispered sadly.
If the terrace had collapsed beneath him just then, Arthur couldn't say he'd have minded a bit.
"Not at all," he finally managed gruffly, not quite meeting her eyes. "I obviously just... misread the situation between us."
"You didn't," Gwen replied sharply. Arthur did meet her gaze then, and the ache for her increased with her remorseful expression. "You didn't," she repeated, shaking her head for emphasis.
They stood awkwardly watching each other before Gwen finally dropped her eyes and parted her lips in the way Guinevere did when she had more to say but was hesitant to say it. He wished he didn't know that about her. "It's just... It's like you said, isn't it?" Gwen finally said softly. "The king isn't the only one who wouldn't understand... And one day, you will fall in love with a noblewoman and marry her." Her voice wavered just slightly with the last word. Arthur closed his eyes against a brutal wave of denial and Gwen paused until he looked at her again. "Lancelot and I -
"Of course you're right," Arthur said quickly, not thinking himself able to bear hearing her speak of Lancelot, entirely unable to witness that softness her expression took on, something she probably didn't even realise.
Guinevere, for her part, took a deep breath before clasping her hands in front of her with an acquiescent duck of her head. She really did need rest, he thought, studying her grayish pallor to avoid her eyes. But he saw as Gwen opened her mouth again and Arthur met her gaze to forestall her.
"When he returns to Camelot permanently," Arthur said, ignoring the churn of rebellion in the pit of his stomach. "I hope you're happy." He even thought he may have sounded as though he actually meant it.
He watched as her brow curved in an almost delicate frown, lips parting as though she were on the cusp of saying something again before she sucked in a deep breath instead.
They both knew - what else could be said?
Arthur hesitated, but he thought that perhaps he could recognise an ending when he was in the midst of one and so, once more, on impulse, he leaned down to her.
Guinevere's lips were as soft and full and fit as perfectly to his as he remembered. It took less than a beat before she had tilted her head and was kissing him back, pressing her mouth hard against his with something like desperation.
The ache in his chest peaked in response, whispering needily about forever, and Arthur wished she hadn't kissed him back.
He pulled away abruptly, stepping past her without another glance and left the balcony for the hopefully freezing sanctuary of his chambers.