Merlin Fic: 3 Ways Gwen and Arthur Didn’t Meet After the Tournament Ended and 1 Way They Did
Title: 3 Ways Gwen and Arthur Didn’t Meet After the Tournament Ended and 1 Way They Did
Characters/Pairing: Gwen/Arthur, Merlin, Morgana.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5,424
Spoilers: Everything up to 202
Disclaimer: Don’t own it.
Summary: What the title says really.
i.
The crowd roar and hoot and as your horse canters to a halt you can already feel the swell of victory settling into the skin beneath your armour, the knowledge that you have truly proven yourself the best, the broken assassin de-horsed at the other end of the arena a testament to that fact.
Yet as you rip off your helmet and chuck it to Merlin, waiting obediently at your side, you glance down at the token wrapped tightly around your arm. Suddenly that simple strip of white seems the root of all your success and glory. The foot-soldier steps up to help you down from your horse but you ignore the man, bodily swinging yourself off in one swift, powerful movement whilst eagerly glancing towards the royal box, looking for her, and the luminous smile that will acknowledge all of your triumphs.
She is not there. You frown and turn around, looking wildly for her, ignoring the rapturous noises made by the crowd, your father beaming, Morgana shaking her head in reluctant admiration, all of them shapeless, nameless blurs that do not matter till she appears - you bat Merlin’s insistent mothering away with a careless swipe.
And suddenly she is there, no more than ten paces away from you, the sunlight dangerously bright upon her face and her eyes soft and loving, a hand outstretched and a playful smile in place. You wait for no other earthly sign; striding over and without a moment’s pause taking her in your arms and kissing her, grinning into her mouth like a madman. You encircle her waist with your arms and hug her perfectly to your body; she threads your damp hair between her fingers and laughs into your mouth and the crowd - both commoners and courtiers - erupt in thunderous applause, stamping their feet as you lift hers into the air -
“Arthur? Arthur! Get up - the King wanted you downstairs half an hour ago and he’s going to blame me if you’re not there!”
Arthur blinked blearily as his bedroom shifted into focus, the light streaming in from the open windows and Merlin clucking round in a worried dizzy in the background. Arthur groaned, the images of his dream already slipping and falling out of his reach as Merlin banged into the cupboard and started hopping around, nursing a stubbed toe.
Arthur turned over in bed, resisting the urge to start the day by clobbering his manservant to death with a heavy object.
ii.
The banquet - more a small feast in reality - was purportedly held to celebrate Arthur’s triumphant return home, though Arthur suspected it was just his father acting on the success of the tournament and allowing the court to indulge an over-run supply of goodwill and ale. Still he wasn’t complaining; the palace kitchens really did know how to serve up a good meal. Though, as he finished his plate he felt an absurd, niggling sense of guilt which he quickly tried to dismiss in a freshly filled goblet, earning him a raised eyebrow from Morgana.
He hadn’t been complaining anyhow - till he had spotted them. More specifically till he had spotted Guinevere and one of his knights; blatantly drunk and falling all over himself trying to get Gwen to dance with him, wobbily offering a hand and leaning towards her with a pathetically gormless smile.
Without even realising what he was doing Arthur stood, and red-faced strode down from the royal table with a furious spring in his step, barely bothering to skirt around the milieu of dancing couples that had started up shortly after dinner and now took up most of the hall.
“- c’mon, one dance won’t hurt will it.”
“It’s very kind of you to ask sire but - “
“Sir James, what do you think you are doing?”
Arthur stood imposingly with his hands on his hips and waited for the knight to turn to face him, purposefully ignoring the way Gwen visibly started at the sound of his voice.
“M - my lord?”
“Answer the question James.”
“I were - I was uh, trying to get this pretty - “
“Okay that’s enough of that isn’t it?”
“Wh - “
“Look at yourself man, is that any way for a knight of Camelot to behave?”
“But - “
“No it certainly isn’t it. I think you need to make up for this appalling display and win back my respect, don’t you?”
“I - “
“Excellent, so you can go guard the ramparts for the rest of the night. That should be enough repentance.”
Sir James frowned and blinked owlishly and Arthur doubted whether the man had even heard him. So he stepped forwards and clapped his hands on the knight’s back, pushing him off with a vigour that was entirely warranted.
“Go then, see you at practice tomorrow after you’ve slept it off.”
Arthur watched the knight totter away till he was certain he wouldn’t return then turned back to face Gwen, who had been watching the scene unfold with a slightly dumbstruck expression. Arthur resisted the urge to laugh, and stepped towards her, earnestly lowering his voice.
“Are you alright Guinevere?”
“Uh - I’m fine my lord.” answered Gwen, shutting her open mouth and seemingly remembering herself. But she did not reward Arthur with one of her winning smiles and he frowned, sensing some unspoken discomfort.
“What is it - did he say something? I’ll have him thrown in the stocks for a month if he so much as -“
“No, no, nothing like that - he was perfectly harmless. I just thought that was -“
“Was what?”
Gwen pressed her lips her together tightly and raised her chin. Arthur stiffened with the sudden realisation that her discomfort was not in regards to the ale-soaked Sir James but himself.
“Well, a little unnecessary.”
Immediately Arthur riled, and his voice turned sarcastic.
“Oh well excuse me for trying to defend your honour.”
“I don’t think it needed defending - sire.”
“He was flirting with you Guinevere!”
As soon as Arthur spoke he realised he had done so too loudly, several heads of nearby courtiers turned in their direction in surprise. Gwen flushed darkly and Arthur felt a stab of shame at causing such a reaction, in addition to his own surge of embarrassment. He purposefully ignored the curious gazes, and fixed his own on Gwen, who stared back at him with a hardness he had only just become accustomed to.
“I know.” she responded quietly, through gritted teeth.
There was a moment’s lull as Gwen lowered her eyes to the floor, waiting for the courtiers to turn away and resume their idle chatter. Arthur watched her, noting the shadows her eyelashes cast across her cheeks, feeling as thoroughly admonished as he had done during the tournament when she had scolded him for his lack of humility. He felt like kicking himself - why around her did he always end up the inferior fool?
And just as he had done back then, he moved closer to her, his voice lower, changed to a humble tone, his words more private.
“I’m sorry - it wasn’t my place to interfere. You’re free to flirt if you choose - especially with those who are at liberty to do so in return.”
As Arthur finished speaking he gazed upon her face, his expression heavy with meaning, and in return Gwen was rendered momentarily speechless, her breath hitching.
Arthur accepted the pause and inclined his head respectfully as he stepped away from her, intending to leave.
“I wasn’t.”
Arthur stopped and turned back to face Gwen, whose face had softened slightly.
“Wasn’t what?”
“Flirting back.”
A faint blush spread across her cheeks, and Arthur valiantly fought the urge to punch the air or grin inanely.
“Oh, well - good.”
Gwen smiled fully and raised an eyebrow.
“Good?”
Arthur felt stupidly happy to receive a genuine smile, but refused to let it show and stuck up his chin in an absurd defensive gesture.
“Yes. Good.”
“I’d expect something a little more eloquent from a prince.” teased Gwen gently.
Arthur laughed lightly in response, and with his head gestured to the dancing behind him.
“Well Guinevere, would you care to -“
Arthur faltered as he saw the radiant smile of moments ago die quickly on Gwen’s face.
“- or maybe not.”
“It’s probably not the best idea.” Gwen shot a sideways glance to the head table; Arthur followed her line of vision and saw his father sat looking down on them austerely. He looked back to Gwen, and she shot him a sad smile. “I still don’t think he would understand. Even for a dance.”
Arthur nodded at her almost imperceptibly but did not remove his gaze from Gwen’s eyes, stretching the sorrow they expressed between them.
“Well just for the record, he may not understand - “
Arthur paused and Gwen looked back evenly, head poised in a regal manner, and in his gut Arthur suffered a pang he had not been able to shake since the tournament.
“-but I want him to.”
Even to his own ears Arthur’s voice sounded low and shaky, and he swallowed thickly, desperate to take hold of Guinevere’s hand as he finished;
“And not just for one dance.”
Gwen’s breath caught again. Unbeknownst to Arthur she desperately wanted to respond in equal measure; I want him to as well, so much. But to do so would be to imply they were on an equal footing, that their relationship was one of equal reciprocation - but it wasn’t, for such reciprocation could never be allowed. So instead she held his gaze and responded with an honesty that belied the warm gratitude and ache his words sent rushing through her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded once more and she curtseyed - their roles already slotting back into place with the inevitability of a force in motion - but before he turned to leave she spoke one last time;
“Arthur.”
iii.
Morgana started at the rapt knock on her bedroom door. It was a Tuesday morning and the servant girl had just come to clear away their breakfast dishes; who the hell was calling on her at this time?
“Gwen, can you get that please?”
There was an answering silence and Morgana swivelled in her seat to face her empty bedroom.
“Gwen?”
Behind her she heard the creak of her door and she turned, ready to scold whomever it was who had the audacity to enter her quarters uninvited, when she came face to face with none other than Arthur.
“What are you doing here?”
Arthur rolled his eyes, and presumptuously strolled over to the table, taking a seat opposite Morgana.
“Lovely to see you as always Morgana.”
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, grabbing the bowl of grapes Arthur had started to help himself to.
“What makes you think that’s something wrong?” replied Arthur, his words muffled as he spoke through a mouth full of grapes.
Morgana ignored this unseemly habit and raised a sceptical eyebrow instead.
“We never see you unannounced in here unless you have some horrible news to impart. What’s happened, Merlin hasn’t got himself poisoned again has he?”
“Hmph, not that I’m aware of. Though knowing that idiot it’s not unlikely. Speaking of servants, where’s Gwen?”
Morgana frowned, unsettled by the sudden and unexpected turn in the conversation.
“Why do you want to know where Gwen is?”
“I’m here my lady, I’m sorry I was - oh, Arthur! - I mean, m - my lord. Sire. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I - uh - I’ll just go wash your linens my lady.”
Morgana watched in gentle amazement as her maidservant and closest friend became flustered in an instant, retreating several steps backwards and ducking her gaze to avoid - well Arthur’s, Morgana realised, looking back at the prince who was gazing at Gwen with a genial and slightly amused expression.
“Don’t worry Guinevere you’re not intruding; how has your morning been?”
“I uh - “
Morgana felt as surprised as Gwen looked, and she rounded on Arthur, fixing him with her hardest stare.
“Alright what do you want as opposed to coming in and harassing my servants?”
“I uh -“Arthur lost some of his swagger, and scratched his ear awkwardly.”- just stopped in to chat.”
“To chat?”
“Yes it’s not unheard of Morgana, for three adults to sit down and have a chat.”
“Three? You hear that Gwen, Arthur would like to have a chat with us.”
Morgana expected Gwen to smile sweetly and answer with some diplomatic deference. Instead Morgana was greeted was a stutter, and Gwen bustled towards the door hurriedly.
“I’ll go get some tea for the two of you from the kitchens.”
“What an excellent idea.” responded Arthur in a bizarre show of enthusiasm. Morgana almost expected him to slap his knee in excitement. Gwen glanced at him in confusion then quickly left, the door clicking shut behind her.
Morgana watched Arthur stare at the door for a moment before he turned back to her, his grin of moments ago slipping into something smaller and more secretive as helooked down at the table and exhaled wistfully.
She pushed the bowl of grapes across the table to him and he glanced up, smiled curtly and popped another in his mouth. Resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand Morgana watched him, calculating.
“So go on then, chat.”
“Hm?”
“That was what you came here for wasn’t it?” she prompted.
“Ah yes, about that Morgana, got to be off. “
“Off?”
Arthur stood hastily, the chair scraping across the floor loudly, and rubbed his hands together.
“Yes I’ve got um - something urgent to do. That I just remembered. Dreadfully sorry I can’t stay.”
Morgana gazed at him with narrowed eyes.
“Something urgent?”
“Morgana I am a prince, I have many important things to do. And I have to do them now - see you later.”
And with that Arthur raced out the door quicker than Morgana had seen him move off the battlefield in years, leaving the door banging in his wake. Listening to his footsteps racing down the corridor she raised a hand to her forehead.
“Am I ill?”
...............................................
“Guinevere!”
Arthur caught up with her half-way to the kitchens, and when she heard her name called Gwen turned in surprise to see the crown prince jogging down the hall towards her.
“Sire? What are you - “
But before she had the chance to finish her sentence Arthur grabbed Gwen and pulled her into a nearby alcove. Gwen squeaked in alarm, and Arthur instantly released her arm.
“I’m sorry, forgive me - “
Gwen cut him off with none of the bluster she had adopted in front of Morgana, and glared up at Arthur, who had to stamp down a proud smile.
“Sire, I don’t know what you are doing but leave me out of it.”
Gwen lowered her gaze, and stepped backwards. “Now excuse me, I have to fetch your tea from the kitchens.”
Arthur sighed in exasperation and reached for her hand. To his relief she did not pull it out of his grasp, but started and stared at it instead. Arthur tugged her towards him gently; Gwen allowed herself to be pulled but she did not raise her head to meet his eyes.
Arthur lowered his voice and looked down at her softly. “Guinevere, forget the tea - I just want to talk to you.”
Gwen looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes and murmured quietly. “About what?”
“About - “Arthur’s throat suddenly felt very dry, but he swallowed and continued, fixing his eyes on Gwen, summoning the words he had prepared and rehearsed earlier.
“- about what I said in the cloisters.”
Gwen inhaled sharply, and started to protest. “My lord you don’t - “
Arthur cut her off earnestly. “Please, Guinevere, call me Arthur.”
Gwen raised her head properly, and stuck out her chin.
“Perhaps if you stop interrupting me.”
Arthur laughed, and involuntarily his eyes flickered down to Gwen’s lips. They were angled upwards to him and Arthur sighed faintly, recalling their softness, of which he had only too brief a taste. He was brought out of this pleasant rumination by Gwen, who gulped and dropped her playful tone quickly, ducking her gaze once more.
“But no, I can’t.”
Arthur squeezed the hand enclosed in his own.
“Why?”
“We both know why sire.” she answered, with an unspoken reprimand in her voice.
“But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about - I fear I may have been too rash before. “
Gwen looked into his eyes fearfully, but bolstered by her attention Arthur continued, his voice steadily growing more ardent.
“You taught me much during the tournament about what sort of king I want to be - but I don’t want to wait till I am king to go after the things that I truly want the most.”
Even in the darkened space of the alcove Arthur could see Gwen’s chest swell and the colour come into her cheeks in response to his implication.
Taking her other hand in his own he leaned closer towards Gwen, till their foreheads almost touched; his voice barely more than a whisper. “I want things to be different now - starting with us.”
Arthur shut his eyes and Gwen rested her brow against his. He savoured the tantalising brush of her hair across his cheek, and together they remained still. Arthur itched to pull her closer, but the moment felt desperate, as if it might slip away or be discovered any instant, and with every passing second he wished they could stay as they were.
With some regret he leaned back and looked down at Gwen in concern.
“Don’t you?”
“I ... don’t know.”
“How you feel or whether or not to speak your mind? You had no problem doing that during the tournament if I remember correctly.”
Arthur smiled sardonically and was heartened when Gwen laughed, even if her voice sounded a little tight. He waited patiently as she fixed her gaze upon his face, and watched him in solemn consideration before she spoke.
“You’re asking me to become a secret?”
Arthur frowned. “No, I -“
“But it would have to be.” she stated.
Arthur shook his head, unable to argue with her.
“No Guinevere, what I’m asking is - do you have feelings for me?”
Gwen pressed her lips together and fell silent. Arthur watched her nervously.
“You know as the prince I could order you to tell me.” he cajoled tentatively.
Gwen smiled briefly, knowing he was not serious, before her face sobered. She gazed up at Arthur, and in that moment she looked more regal than he could have ever imagined.
“Do you have feelings for me?”
Arthur smiled warmly, and rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hands.
“Yes.”
Gwen’s eyes widened comically, and Arthur bit his lip in amusement.
“You uh - “
Arthur leaned in again, and smirked.
“Yes Guinevere?”
Cheeks pink, Gwen shook her head as if to dispel her bluster. Arthur laughed, his breath hitting a few of her curls, and Gwen looked up at him sharply. He raised his eyebrows tauntingly, and she stuck her bottom lip up at him, filled with a resolve he found utterly enchanting.
“Well we finally have something in common then.”
Arthur felt the smirk slip off his face as something large and light bloomed in his chest. Gwen rolled her eyes and he knew he must have been grinning himself silly but he felt too ecstatic to care, especially when Gwen stilled and her pursed lips broke out into a brilliant smile.
She shifted a little closer to him, still smiling and with a shy tilt of the head. “Does this mean -mmph!”
Arthur couldn’t help himself; he ducked down and kissed Gwen with all the longing he possessed, parting her lips with his own, thrills running through his body as she sighed into his mouth and leant up into him, pressing their noses together. His hands moved to slip possessively round her waist and he drew her to him; her hands wound their way round his head and Arthur felt her fingers begin to stroke the nape of his neck.
Boldly he tilted his head a little to one side and took a step forwards, moving to lean Gwen gently against the wall. She held on to him tighter, and while his body pushed up against hers he pulled back to plant a kiss on the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, his lips brushing her skin in a caress. He heard and felt Gwen’s slightly ragged breathing hitch, and his mouth founds hers once more, trapping her lips between his. He groaned weakly when Gwen began to move against him, kissing him back in a manner wildly different to the chasteness of their first kiss, her head moving to the other side of his and one of her hands dropping from his neck to run teasingly up and down his back. He could feel the heat of her palm and deftness of her fingertips through the cotton covering his back and her warm breath mingling with his as her lips -
“Hurry up! The cook wants us back down as soon as possible - George, watch where you are going!”
The loud clatter of dishes falling sprung Arthur and Gwen apart hastily as the maidservant scolded the small boy who scrambled along the corridor floor, scurrying to pick up his load. Gwen pulled back into the dark of the alcove, pressing herself further against the wall and Arthur covered her, hands still on her waist.
When the servants had passed Arthur looked down at Gwen, who was staring into his chest, neck still flush and breathing un-steadily, though whether that was due to the close call that had just passed or not he did not know.
“Guinevere?”
Gwen looked up at him and smiled weakly.
“Sorry si - I mean Arthur. I got a bit carried away there.”
Arthur chuckled and with one of his thumbs rubbed the material of her dress, stroking the embroidered bumps. “Don’t apologise. May I come talk to you further later?”
He stared at her imploringly and Gwen pressed her lips together, which Arthur noted with a pleased smile.
“Where?”
Arthur already had the answer. “At your house, it would be easier for me to come to you -and no-one would ever think to look for me there now.”
He grinned triumphantly but Gwen simply stared at him.
“That’s how it’s going to be isn’t it?”
“Is that a yes?”
Gwen huffed at Arthur’s delighted tone, but smiled at him despite herself. “It’s not a no.”
Arthur beamed in response and Gwen softly placed a hand to his chest and pushed him backwards.
“I must go now.”
“Of course, of course -“agreed Arthur as they both stepped out into the bright corridor, adjusting themselves and discreetly checking for servants. “-just, one more thing.”
And in one swift movement Arthur grabbed Gwen’s wrist to spin her round and planted another kiss on her, muffling her squeak of surprise. He lingered for a moment then pulled away, releasing Gwen who gaped at him.
“My lord!”
Arthur winked and set off down the corridor. “See you later Guinevere.”
Gwen watched him go with her mouth open, unable to believe his audacity - he’d kissed her, in the corridor, where anyone could walk past! -but promptly shut it again when Arthur glanced back as he walked away, knowing smile in place.
Gwen narrowed her eyes then turned her back and attempted to resume a graceful walk in the opposite direction. It was not till she was sure that Arthur had turned the corner that she stopped, raised her fingers to her mouth and let a smile blossom out. Resisting the bizarre urge to laugh she picked up her skirts and practically ran the rest of the way to the kitchen.
And the Way It Did Happen
iv.
“Arthur, what’s this?”
Arthur sighed. He was sat at his desk busy scratching away with a quill. Merlin was supposed to be tidying his room for the laundry.
“Merlin I don’t have time to answer your idiotic queries, I have to finish up this report for my father before dinner.”
Merlin ignored his master, and behind Arthur he held up the strip of white fabric in his hand to the light by the window.
“Just, do you want me to throw it out? It sort of looks like it might belong to a lady - “
Irritably Arthur turned in his seat to face his manservant. “What are you talking about Merlin I - put that down!”
In an instant Arthur was on his feet and striding over, snatching the token in one hand from Merlin, pointing accusingly at him with the other.
“Where did you find this, have you been going through my drawers?”
Merlin looked at Arthur in bewilderment. “Yes, to tidy your clothes and things, because that’s my job-“
“Yes well, this is not to be thrown away, understand me?”
Arthur turned and paced back to his chair. Merlin stared at him, realisation dawning, and a teasing lilt entered his voice.
“That belongs to a lady doesn’t it?”
Arthur rolled his eyes and sitting himself down pulled in his chair, scraping it harshly across the stone floor.
“It’s a handkerchief Merlin, not a dress.”
Merlin merely grinned in delight and circled the table, coming to stand in front of Arthur.
“Someone gave that to you -“he chorused. ”- who was it, Morgana?”
Arthur scoffed. “Uh no, if Morgana was the one to give it to me I’d be forced to burn it.”
“So someone did give it to you? Come on, you can tell me - they must have meant a lot to you if you’ve kept it.”
Arthur looked up to find his manservant staring down at him with what appeared to be sympathetic eyes - his lips however were pressed so tightly together they were white, and Arthur knew he was trying to restrain from laughing. Irritation and embarrassment coiled within him, and looking down at his parchment Arthur muttered darkly;
“Shut up Merlin.”
“Was it one of the ladies of the court?”
Arthur groaned and raised his head. “Merlin it wasn’t anyone it was - Guinevere.”
Arthur drew up short at the sight of the figure stood in the doorway. Merlin who faced Arthur frowned in confusion.
“Gwen gave it to you?”
Behind him Gwen coughed politely. Merlin spun around.
“Gwen! What are you doing here?”
Gwen stepped into the room towards Merlin and watching her carefully Arthur noted the graceful incline of the head, and the way her curls hung loosely around her face and bloody hell had she always been so beautiful? He was suddenly rather grateful that he was sitting down if only for the fact that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he were standing up.
He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it either but he felt for an instant that Gwen had glanced in his direction, and as she began to speak it seemed there was a slightly sad set to her voice.
“Morgana sent me with a message - the king cannot dine with you tonight so my lady extended an invitation to the both of you to dine with her in her quarters.”
Arthur bitterly noted that all the while Gwen kept her eyes trained on Merlin - who was beginning to grin like a buffoon - but he felt sure that she was as aware of his presence as he was of hers; as she finished speaking he noted the way she pressed her lips together firmly and looked straight ahead, gaze never wavering towards him.
“Both of us?”
Gwen nodded.
“That’s great!”exclaimed Merlin happily. ”Well, as long as Arthur’s not doing the cooking right?”
Merlin shot a smirk over his shoulder at his master, expecting a glare from him and a muffled chuckle from Gwen, but was surprised when both prince and maid servant clammed up and reddened, flushing at the shared memory. Arthur glanced at Gwen as she dared a look at him, and the moment their eyes met they both instantly turned away again.
Arthur cleared his throat self-consciously, and settled himself by glaring daggers at his manservant.
“Merlin keep your tongue in check.”
“Ignore him, he’s been grumpy for days” said Merlin, as he rolled his eyes and turned to Gwen, dismissing his master’s threat with an ease that Arthur thought he probably should feel concerned about. But it was difficult to muster any great indignation when every sense in his body was trained on the glimpse of her in his peripheral vision; head bowed slightly, hands clasped in front of her, her lavender dress clinging lovingly to her form. And Arthur didn’t want to discipline Merlin too harshly in front of her; she was no longer in a position to scold him but he doubted Gwen’s disapproval would sting any less.
“So Gwen will you be joining us?”
Arthur picked at the surface of the table and pretended not to be listening.
“Oh no, I can’t, I’ve got to wash the linens ... “
Gwen’s voice trailed off, and raising his eyes Arthur saw the blush on her skin rise, as she ducked her head nervously. He swallowed sharply.
“Oh, I’ll help you out!”
“Merlin you don’t have to do that.”
“No, I want to. Besides I still owe you for all your help during the tournament. And I can get the cook to save some stew for the two of us.”
“Well alright, thank you.” answered Gwen, flashing Merlin with a small yet genuine smile. Arthur ignored the automatic pang in his gut.
“Excellent it’ll be fun - we can have a race to see who finishes our baskets faster.”
Gwen laughed bemusedly and Merlin shook his head at her.
“I know, I know - I’m weird.”
Gwen giggled, Merlin smiled - and Arthur coughed loudly. Gwen started, snapping out of her relaxed conversation with Merlin.
“Oh sorry, I’ll go.” Curtseying, she shot an incredibly quick, awfully polite smile at Arthur.
“My lord.”
Arthur watched her leave, feeling much worse than he had minutes ago when he had spotted her token - now safely tucked inside his jacket - in the hands of his fumbling manservant. He would never have guessed that he could possibly be jealous of Merlin - who chuckled, then bent down to the floor to resume his tidying - but their easy familiarity had sent sour shivers down his spine.
Arthur leant back in his chair and watched Merlin suspiciously.
“Merlin.”
“Yes sire?” answered Merlin distractedly, still crouched down on the floor.
Arthur coughed, and raised a hand to his mouth before he began to speak. “You and Guinevere, you - you were never - well - “
Merlin groaned in exasperation and stood to face Arthur.
“Oh why does everyone always think that?”
Arthur frowned and leaned forward.
“Why would everyone always think that?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. Answer the question.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Never have, never will. We’re just good friends.”
“Oh.” Arthur bit his tongue and clamped down the word “good.”
Merlin smothered a laugh, and moved closer to the table under the pretence of dusting it.
“Why are you taking such an interest?” he asked with his eyes lowered, in an overtly innocent voice.
Arthur rolled his eyes and resumed his writing.
“Merlin you’ve been my manservant for over a year now, it’s not totally bizarre for me to take an interest in your personal life.”
“Not at all.” concurred Merlin agreeably. ” I just didn’t think that I was the one you were interested in.”
Arthur’s shoulders tensed up, and he glared at Merlin.
“What are you saying?”
Merlin shrugged, and continued wiping down the desk. “Oh, just with all the cooking and the token-“
“That wasn’t -“
“-and now this, are you and Gwen-“
“Merlin I am not interested in - Guinevere!”
Blushing furiously, Gwen re-entered the room, bent down and hurriedly gathered the linens that lay in the basket by the door.
“I - I’m so sorry to intrude, I forgot to pick up these, I’ll just be - I’ll just go.”
And with that she rushed out and Arthur was left split between the desire to run after her, to strangle Merlin within an inch of his life with one of his damned neckerchiefs or to die of embarrassment.
“Perhaps I should call Gwen back - if she didn’t give you the token she might know who did.”
Arthur settled for throwing his shoe at Merlin’s head instead.