100 Fantasies Challenge: #110 Fic:The Ties That Bound
Title: The Ties That Bound
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Gwen
Rating/Warnings: G
Spoilers: Takes place in episode 13 and there’s a reference to episode 12
Disclaimer: I own EVERYTHING MWA HAAAA *rubs hands together* No seriously I own NOTHING!!
Summary: Gwen’s thoughts as she nurses Arthur.
Word Count: 803
Author’s notes: This was written for the 100 fantasies challenge hosted by camelot_love The prompt was: Injured Arthur
Please feel free to comment :D
Gwen looked longingly at the prince; no, she thought not a prince, not at this moment. He was a man, a body, a heart and soul. A soul that was struggling to fight off the dark that would consume him whole, tear him down till there was nothing left but a memory. Her brown eyes, full of worry, stared at his paled skin, it was getting paler with every second that passed agonisingly by. The canvas before her was losing its paint, becoming blank. Empty. Beads of torture were still forming rapidly across his bared chest and head, dripping down and off his clammy skin. They were etching pieces out, destroying him slowly and with it her.
It seemed to Gwen as if those droplets were taking pleasure in the job they were committing, ecstatic that their victim was so important; so high up. They knew what they were taking away. They enjoyed the thought of all the hopes and dreams shattering like glass on the floor. Delighted with the notion that hundreds of bare feet would have to walk across the shards, bleeding as they went. Their blood would run into the ground along with his, feeding the droplets’ menace. The imaginings and prayers of an entire kingdom were fading away with every mark they made. The globules of pain sneered at her futile attempts to rid them from the land on which they ran, but still she tried; desperation in her every movement.
The fire glowed brightly offering the only light within the room. It cast shadows on the wall that danced in a tribal way. Gwen wondered if their dance was to heal the beating heart before her, or bring him down. Were their prayers for salvation or damnation?
Outside it was pitch black. No stars or moon shone. It was as if the darkness and despair that had fallen like a blanket in the hearts of the people of Camelot had claimed the sky. As if it was already in mourning. No Gwen thought, no, no, no! There was hope, he would live. She knew he would live, hadn’t she just confessed to him so; poured her heart and soul into words, hoping they would reach him and light the way home. Bring him back to his people, his father, his friends, his land. Bring him back to her.
Arthur had to live; fate could not be so cruel as to take away the last thing she had left. The person that kept her dreaming and breathing. Living. He represented too much to her, her hope. The sunrise at the end of the nightmare was slipping away from Gwen and all she could do was try to ease the discomfort. Pray that someone somewhere would smile upon them and offer mercy.
It wasn’t just her that would break if Arthur should fall, Uther would too. She was not heartless. Although this man, this king had wrongly taken her father, she still felt pity for him. He’d lost his wife and now his son lay in the balance, on the edge of a knife. Yes, Gwen felt sorry for him; she could see in his eyes that he had almost given up all hope of a recovery. Gwen was scared as well, terrified of what Arthur’s death would do to Uther. His wife’s death had led to the banning of magic, the deaths of innocent people; her father had been one of them. Uther had become blinded when magic was mentioned; he couldn’t see the innocent from the guilty. His hatred fell down in a haze blocking all truth from view. What would he do if they lost Arthur? What madness would devour him? Would the kingdom survive it?
Gwen shook her head; stop it she cried out to the demon that would have her doubt. He was going to live, he was GOING TO LIVE. She had to keep that candle burning, couldn’t let it fade. Softly she traced her fingers over his furrowed brow, trying to draw back the colour. He relaxed to her touch and the realisation pulled at her heart. Something was coming over her, a feeling she didn’t quite understand or expect. The need to heal him, to save him overwhelmed her. It went beyond a servant wanting to help her future king. It was something else, a need; a necessity that she didn’t fully comprehend. All she knew was she would stay and watch over him, keeping the shadows at bay, not allowing them to claim him.
If it took all her energy she’d give it willingly just as long as he opened his eyes, smiled, spoke, walked about cockily again. So long as he continued to breathe there was hope and as long as there was hope she’d stay by his side, forever.