Fic: Anything Else
Title: Anything Else
Characters/Pairing: Gwen/Arthur.
Rating: G
Word Count: 919
Spoilers: Everything up to 203
Disclaimer: Don’t own it.
Summary: A missing scene from the latest episode.
A/N: Written in the wee hours of this morning and un-beta'd so don't judge too harshly. Also, this pairing is taking over my brain.
Arthur was sat on his bed, pulling on his boots when someone knocked on the door to his room.
“Enter - Guinevere?”
As Gwen slipped into the room she curtseyed and ducked her head. She was carrying a basket but Arthur barely noticed this, as his boot dropped to the floor and he sat up straighter.
“Excuse me sire -“
Gwen raised her eyes to his.
“Do you mind if I ask you an impertinent question?”
Arthur swallowed and whetted his lips. His throat suddenly felt quite dry.
“No.”
“Could I take some of your spare linens for the Lady Morgana? Hers were all burnt in the fire and the rest are in the laundry room.”
“Oh.”
Arthur blinked. After a moment and Gwen’s bemused stare he gathered he was meant to continue.
“I mean no, not at all.”
“Thank you sire.”
Gwen frowned. She could have sworn that Arthur had looked a little disappointed at the mundane nature of her question. Shaking her head to dispel such fanciful notions she moved to the basket to the left of Arthur’s bed, studiously ignoring the way his gaze followed her as she moved closer to him in passing.
Gwen could still feel his eyes on her when stood with her back to him, and she bent over the basket and started to gather armfuls of linens to drop in her own. She worked hurriedly - the quicker she could get out of there the better, before she started letting her imagination run riot. Or before he started to talk to her.
“So-”
Gwen tensed. Too late.
“-how is the Lady Morgana?”
Faced away Gwen screwed up her face with resolve, then turned and smiled politely at the prince sat behind her. Just as a servant would; though her words skirted delicately around their “situation”.
“It’s alright sire; you don’t have to talk to me.”
“I want to.”
The openness of Arthur’s answer caught Gwen off guard, and she blushed and turned back to the basket, though she could not bring herself to move. Behind her Arthur remained staring. He felt out of odds again, uncomfortable in his own room, his own skin and most of all he wished she would turn and face him like a person, not a nameless servant. He coughed to emphasise his presence, then spoke again, voice deeper.
“Guinevere, no matter the circumstances-“
He paused to study Gwen, who remained still.
“-I do not intend to ignore you. “
For a moment Arthur thought Gwen would simply pick up her basket and leave, but then she looked back and gave him a smile that was smaller, but grateful and honest, which Arthur welcomed much more strongly.
“Thank you sire.”
Arthur nodded.
“You are welcome. So, how is she?”
Finished with the linens, Gwen turned to face Arthur with a posture that seemed newly relaxed, though Arthur noted that she held her basket in front of her protectively.
“Sleeping, though she does so very ill.”
“Has she not had any visitors to disturb her?” asked Arthur in an equally neutral tone. He took care to keep his gaze upon Gwen even, and not to let his eyes linger on her mouth as she spoke or follow the bounce of her stray curls as her head bobbed naturally.
“The king has visited twice, with Gaius. And Merlin has come.”
“Merlin?”
Gwen’s voice took on a fresh lilt, and she smiled at Arthur, conveying to him some of her own amusement.
“Yes, with flowers.”
Arthur’s eyebrows shot up.
“Flowers? For Morgana? Ah yes, of course - I saw him hiding some behind his back. Painfully obvious. He didn’t cut off a lock of his hair too did he?”
Gwen stifled a laugh.
“I thought it was sweet.”
“Well you would Guinevere; you see the best in everyone.”
Gwen's laugh left her and she flushed darkly. Arthur did not acknowledge her embarrassment and continued, compliment unheeded.
“Regardless someone needs to have a word with him.”
“I bring Morgana flowers.” Gwen reasoned.
“Yes but you are her maidservant and Merlin is a bumbling fool who wanders around with his head so far up in the clouds I’m surprised he hasn’t burnt himself on the sun.”
Before she could stop herself a peal of laughter escaped Gwen and Arthur look thoroughly pleased with himself. Gwen caught herself and pursed her lips, ducking her head in admonishment towards herself.
“I shouldn’t laugh, Merlin is my friend.”
“And mine.” Arthur protested.
Gwen’s mouth quirked up in a smile, and she raised her eyebrows at Arthur in a slight challenge.
“Do you often make your friends muck out your stables?”
“Morgana calls you a friend yet here you are fetching her linens.” Shot back Arthur, gesturing towards her basket.
Gwen sighed, and glanced down at the load in her arms.
“I suppose you are right.”
Arthur’s eyes widened incredulously.
“Excuse me?”
Gwen straightened and smiled politely at Arthur.
“It must happen occasionally mustn’t it sire?”
Arthur sighed in exasperation.
“That sounds more like it coming from you.”
Gwen blushed a little.
“I’m sorry I should not be so rude.”
Arthur smiled back widely.
“Yes, you should.”
Gwen did not return his smile.
“No I shouldn’t.”
And with that she nodded once, and left the room, arms laden with what she came for.
Arthur stared after her, all traces of joviality and ease gone in an instant.
She was right; she could not be rude about him as she was Merlin. They were not friends.
Let alone anything else.
.