Merlin fic: Sigh No More; Arthur/Gwen 1/1
I swear I'll post an actual entry one of these days, and check up on my flist who I have not forgotten I promise. But for now, FIC...
Title: Sigh No More
Author: shootingstars88
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Gwen, Merlin, Morgana, Elyan
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All characters/settings etc property of the BBC
Spoilers: S3, specifically 3x07
Summary: A serious of five missing scenes for 3x07 The Castle of Fyrien
A/N - Title and LJ cut text courtesy of Mumford and Sons 'Sigh No More'. I'm breaking my own rule of never posting something the day I finish it, but I have such a hectic week coming up that if I don't post this now I might not manage it. Unbetaed so apologies for any mistakes.
A series of 5 missing scenes/post ep scenes for last night's ep from various POVs, in which the Pendragons are adorable and stop angsting about being in love, Elyan is sassy and Merlin ships it.
~
“Arthur’s been worried sick”
Merlin slips quietly into the room, head down and shoulders slumped, pondering Gaius’ assurance that no news is good news. It doesn’t seem so in this case.
Arthur is gazing vacantly out of the window, his head resting on his fist, but he looks up as soon as he hears Merlin. There are reports spread across the table but Merlin recognises the top page as the same one Arthur was looking at when Merlin left him some hours ago.
“Well?” Arthur asks, the barest flicker of hope igniting in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Sire, there’s no news,” Merlin tells him quietly, coming to stand before Arthur and bracing his hands on the back of a chair.
The Prince’s face falls. “Nothing?”
Merlin sighs. “I’m sorry Arthur, there’s no sign of her. I’ve asked everyone I can think of. No-one saw her, no-one saw anything. She’s just ... gone.”
Arthur’s hands curl into fists on the table. He looks up at Merlin and his own expression mirrors that of his servant, concern darkening a frown on both their faces.
“Where is she?” Arthur thinks aloud, letting out one long ragged breath.
“She’ll be all right,” Merlin says, trying to inject a certainty into his tone that he does not feel.
Arthur forces a smile that does not reach his eyes. “Of course.”
~
“Your brother will come to no harm, I promise.”
Merlin knocks lightly on Arthur’s door but pushes it open without waiting for a response from the Prince. Gwen smiles despite herself at Merlin’s complete disregard for the protocols of his position. She leans against the door frame and watches as he slips quickly into the room.
“Someone you might like to see Sire,” Merlin says, stepping aside.
Arthur’s eyes flick immediately from Merlin to Gwen in the doorway and he lets out a huffed breath, half a laugh of relief.
“Guinevere.” He says her name like a prayer.
“Sire,” she says cautiously, stepping into the room and looking nervously at Merlin.
Arthur’s smile freezes on his face at the look that passes between her and Merlin.
“What’s wrong?” he asks urgently.
Gwen opens her mouth to respond and finds no words there.
“Where were you?”
“Cenred’s men took her,” Merlin explains quickly, sensing Gwen’s reluctance.
“They have my brother,” she adds. A tear slips down her cheek.
Arthur is at her side in an instant. He takes her slim hand in his and the touch of his skin on hers warms a little of the chill in her heart.
He leads her gently to a chair and pulls it out for her to sit.
Too late, she realises her sleeve has slipped back and revealed the ugly bruise there. Arthur sees it immediately and his eyes darken dangerously.
“It’s nothing,” Gwen tries to assure him.
Arthur shakes his head, eyes closed and Gwen sees the effort it is costing him to hold back his anger at Cenred. He releases her hand and walks around the table slowly. When he reaches the other side the fire has faded from his eyes, replaced by an affectionate concern that makes her want to run into his arms.
He stand opposite her with Merlin at his right hand side. “Tell me everything.” he asks.
He listens intently to her story and as she speaks, Gwen sees the shadow of the great King he will one day be, the one to whom any subject can take a grievance and be heard.
In that moment, she loves him a little more than before.
~
“If anything happens to you I won’t forgive myself.”
After yet another whispered argument with Morgana, Merlin turns to go and pack up their camp. He passes Gwen and she smiles at him, encouraged to cheerfulness by having her friends around her.
Merlin turns to watch her greet Morgana with the same smile.
Watching Morgana smile sweetly back, Merlin realises the girl he used to know really did die when his poison touched her lips. He thinks of Gwen, innocent and unaware, and forces aside his guilt, and any sympathy he had left for Morgana.
He finds Arthur nearly finished bundling up their belongings.
“How far do you think?” Merlin asks.
“Not far. We should reach the Castle today. We’ll have Elyan by nightfall,” Arthur answers.
Merlin glances back to where the girls stand, just out of earshot. He takes advantage of their absence to discuss something that’s been bothering him since they set out.
“You seem very calm.”
“And?” Arthur asks with a shrug.
“And it’s weird,” Merlin says simply.
“Thank you Merlin.” Arthur rolls his eyes, still smiling.
“I’m serious Arthur, this is serious. Aren’t you worried?”
“No need. We will get Elyan back.”
“Aren’t you angry then? At all?”
Arthur turns to glance at Gwen, checking she is still out of earshot. When he turns back to Merlin the carefree smile of a moment ago is gone and there is a storm behind his eyes.
“Of course I’m angry,” he admits tersely, his jaw suddenly a tight line. “Cenred wants Camelot and so he hates me, always has, that’s no surprise. I don’t even care. I expect it. But this is too much, even for him.” He grabs a pile of blankets and ties them together with a little more force than necessary. “He’s trying to use Gwen and I won’t allow it. He won’t hurt her again.”
Merlin frowns, still not understanding. “Why are being so calm if you feel this way?”
Arthur huffs in frustration. “For Gwen,” he explains, as though it is obvious. “She already blames herself for this, Merlin. You know she’s terrified something will happen to one of us.” He fixes Merlin with a serious glare as if warning him not to dare get hurt, for Gwen’s sake. “She needs this to be a simple rescue so that’s what it’s going to be.”
Merlin nods, smiling in understanding. “For Gwen.”
His smile must be a little too understanding because Arthur, blushing slightly, throws one of the bundles of blankets at him. Merlin simply laughs and throws it back, narrowly missing Arthur’s head.
Her attention caught by their noise, Gwen looks over and smiles indulgently at the two men who are now both aiming bundles at each other. They drop them at once and attempt to look busy.
Gwen rolls her eyes and turns back to her tasks, cheered by their high spirits.
Merlin watches Arthur’s gaze drift towards her almost involuntarily as it so often does, as though he cannot help but look at her when she’s near.
“Look at her,” Arthur says quietly, serious again. “How could anyone want to hurt her?”
Merlin looks at Morgana and feels cold. “I don’t know.”
~
“He’s got the Forge up and running.”
Elyan’s eyes bulge in shock to see the Prince of Camelot standing casually in his forge. He puts down his tools at once and drops his head respectfully. Elyan’s never been one for bowing to a man just because of his birth, but Arthur Pendragon is one man he is willing to make an exception for.
“I just wanted to see how you were settling in,” Arthur says conversationally, ignoring Elyan’s attempt at formality.
Elyan looks up to find Arthur smiling good-naturedly at him, looking around the forge with interest. “I see you’re almost set up already.”
Elyan blinks, surprised at Arthur’s easy conversation.
“Yes Sire,” he agrees, feeling a tiny surge of pride as he surveys his father’s old workshop, coming alive again.
“Excellent because I came to make an order.”
“An order?”
“Indeed.” Arthur hands him a scrap of paper with an extensive list outlined. His eyes are bright and Elyan suspects he’s rather enjoying himself.
“This is too much Sire.”
“There’s no hurry,” Arthur assures him easily. “It’s barely been a day. You can start when you’re up and running. Take your time.”
Elyan shakes his head. “No I didn’t mean that. It’s just that ... you’ve done so much for me already. I can’t accept any more - “ He hesitates, not wanting to offend.
Arthur, sensing Elyan’s meaning, interrupts. “It’s not charity.”
“No?”
“Not at all. My knights and I need a great deal of equipment and I always try to spread the work around all the good Blacksmiths in the area.”
It feels impertinent to ask but something about Arthur puts Elyan at ease enough to say. “What makes you so certain I’m a good Blacksmith?”
Arthur’s answer surprises him. “Because your father was the best Blacksmith in the Kingdom. He taught you I presume?”
“He did.”
“Excellent.” Arthur smiles, holds out the parchment again. “Take the order Elyan.”
“Thank you Sire.”
Arthur is half way out the door when Elyan gets up the courage to ask. “You say you always spread the work around the Blacksmiths in the area?”
“The good ones,” Arthur agrees.
“Do you always take the order to them personally?” Elyan asks, tongue between his teeth. “Or only to the ones with pretty sisters who might be nearby?”
For one long moment Arthur doesn’t say anything and Elyan fears he’s said too much. Then Arthur’s serious face dissolves in a shout of laughter.
“You’re the only one with a pretty sister my friend so we’ll never know,” he assures him, grinning broadly.
~
“The Wolves!”
Gwen is kept busy from the moment they return, attending to her usual duties and running out to see Elyan whenever she can. By lunch time he has secured himself somewhere to live and by evening has cleaned out the old forge and taken his first order (from Prince Arthur nonetheless). Gwen marvels at how he can settle in so easily, already half the town seem to know him.
Morgana stays in bed most of the day, claiming a pain in her ankle and a headache from the tiring ride. She dismisses Gwen early, telling her to get some rest. She seems strangely sad and Gwen wonders why, given the success of their trip. Once she might have asked her but only a ghost of their former closeness remains now so Gwen accepts her dismissal without protest and leaves for the day.
Throwing her cloak around her shoulders, Gwen heads past the guards and down the steps out of the main Castle.
Waiting for her at the foot of the staircase is Arthur. There is a cloak around his shoulders and a hood over his face but she would know the set of his shoulders anywhere.
When she reaches him, he takes her arm and begins to walk towards the town.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, though they are far from the guards now.
“Just making sure you get home safe,” Arthur whispers back. He leans rather closer than necessary and his words slip a trail of goosebumps down her neck.
In the corner of her eye she sees him smile, like he knows he made her tremble.
“You can’t walk me home every night just because there might be bandits in my house Arthur.”
“Why not?”
“People will talk.”
“People do.”
“Arthur.”
“Just this once then? Humour me?”
It’s hardly open for argument, since they’ve already walked half the way to her house as it is. The further they get from the castle, the closer he pulls her to him until he’s got one arm wound around her waist, holding him tightly into his side. She knows she should step away from him but the darkness makes her bold so she lets him reach his other arm across and take her hand.
When they reach her door, he releases her and spins around to face her, his back to the door. In the shadows of his hood she can see him smiling.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” he asks boldly. “After all, the bandits did take you from inside...”
Gwen is about to protest that they really shouldn’t when he takes her hand and pulls her into the house with him.
Inside he pulls down his hood, flings the cloak on her table and grins at her, eyes sparkling with possibility. She tries to frown at him but she cannot hide a smile in reply.
He holds up a finger to silence her and makes a quick search of her home, throwing back every cover to check they are quite alone.
When he has swept the whole room, she turns and asks, “Happy now? There is no-one here.”
He grins. “Finally.”
He moves so quickly she barely even feels him wind an arm around her waist and spin her into his arms. She collides lightly with his chest and gasps at the sudden proximity, looking up to see one glimpse of his smiling face before he closes his eyes and dips his head to press a sudden kiss to her lips.
Gwen feels her eyes flutter closed as she responds to his kiss, breathing a sigh of his name against his lips that makes him pull her closer to him, one hand slipping into her hair. She kisses him back urgently, forgetting for a moment all the reasons why she shouldn’t.
They break apart after a few moments, both breathing heavily. Arthur smiles against her lips, pressing a quick chaste kiss there before lifting his head to rest his forehead against hers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t be.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
They step apart and Arthur smiles unabashedly down at Gwen, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Good night Guinevere.”
“Good night Arthur.”
He has flung the cloak around his shoulders and is at the door when she calls out, “And Arthur, really ... wolves?”
He laughs as he steps into the night. “You never know.”
~
:)
Title: Sigh No More
Author: shootingstars88
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Gwen, Merlin, Morgana, Elyan
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All characters/settings etc property of the BBC
Spoilers: S3, specifically 3x07
Summary: A serious of five missing scenes for 3x07 The Castle of Fyrien
A/N - Title and LJ cut text courtesy of Mumford and Sons 'Sigh No More'. I'm breaking my own rule of never posting something the day I finish it, but I have such a hectic week coming up that if I don't post this now I might not manage it. Unbetaed so apologies for any mistakes.
A series of 5 missing scenes/post ep scenes for last night's ep from various POVs, in which the Pendragons are adorable and stop angsting about being in love, Elyan is sassy and Merlin ships it.
~
“Arthur’s been worried sick”
Merlin slips quietly into the room, head down and shoulders slumped, pondering Gaius’ assurance that no news is good news. It doesn’t seem so in this case.
Arthur is gazing vacantly out of the window, his head resting on his fist, but he looks up as soon as he hears Merlin. There are reports spread across the table but Merlin recognises the top page as the same one Arthur was looking at when Merlin left him some hours ago.
“Well?” Arthur asks, the barest flicker of hope igniting in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Sire, there’s no news,” Merlin tells him quietly, coming to stand before Arthur and bracing his hands on the back of a chair.
The Prince’s face falls. “Nothing?”
Merlin sighs. “I’m sorry Arthur, there’s no sign of her. I’ve asked everyone I can think of. No-one saw her, no-one saw anything. She’s just ... gone.”
Arthur’s hands curl into fists on the table. He looks up at Merlin and his own expression mirrors that of his servant, concern darkening a frown on both their faces.
“Where is she?” Arthur thinks aloud, letting out one long ragged breath.
“She’ll be all right,” Merlin says, trying to inject a certainty into his tone that he does not feel.
Arthur forces a smile that does not reach his eyes. “Of course.”
~
“Your brother will come to no harm, I promise.”
Merlin knocks lightly on Arthur’s door but pushes it open without waiting for a response from the Prince. Gwen smiles despite herself at Merlin’s complete disregard for the protocols of his position. She leans against the door frame and watches as he slips quickly into the room.
“Someone you might like to see Sire,” Merlin says, stepping aside.
Arthur’s eyes flick immediately from Merlin to Gwen in the doorway and he lets out a huffed breath, half a laugh of relief.
“Guinevere.” He says her name like a prayer.
“Sire,” she says cautiously, stepping into the room and looking nervously at Merlin.
Arthur’s smile freezes on his face at the look that passes between her and Merlin.
“What’s wrong?” he asks urgently.
Gwen opens her mouth to respond and finds no words there.
“Where were you?”
“Cenred’s men took her,” Merlin explains quickly, sensing Gwen’s reluctance.
“They have my brother,” she adds. A tear slips down her cheek.
Arthur is at her side in an instant. He takes her slim hand in his and the touch of his skin on hers warms a little of the chill in her heart.
He leads her gently to a chair and pulls it out for her to sit.
Too late, she realises her sleeve has slipped back and revealed the ugly bruise there. Arthur sees it immediately and his eyes darken dangerously.
“It’s nothing,” Gwen tries to assure him.
Arthur shakes his head, eyes closed and Gwen sees the effort it is costing him to hold back his anger at Cenred. He releases her hand and walks around the table slowly. When he reaches the other side the fire has faded from his eyes, replaced by an affectionate concern that makes her want to run into his arms.
He stand opposite her with Merlin at his right hand side. “Tell me everything.” he asks.
He listens intently to her story and as she speaks, Gwen sees the shadow of the great King he will one day be, the one to whom any subject can take a grievance and be heard.
In that moment, she loves him a little more than before.
~
“If anything happens to you I won’t forgive myself.”
After yet another whispered argument with Morgana, Merlin turns to go and pack up their camp. He passes Gwen and she smiles at him, encouraged to cheerfulness by having her friends around her.
Merlin turns to watch her greet Morgana with the same smile.
Watching Morgana smile sweetly back, Merlin realises the girl he used to know really did die when his poison touched her lips. He thinks of Gwen, innocent and unaware, and forces aside his guilt, and any sympathy he had left for Morgana.
He finds Arthur nearly finished bundling up their belongings.
“How far do you think?” Merlin asks.
“Not far. We should reach the Castle today. We’ll have Elyan by nightfall,” Arthur answers.
Merlin glances back to where the girls stand, just out of earshot. He takes advantage of their absence to discuss something that’s been bothering him since they set out.
“You seem very calm.”
“And?” Arthur asks with a shrug.
“And it’s weird,” Merlin says simply.
“Thank you Merlin.” Arthur rolls his eyes, still smiling.
“I’m serious Arthur, this is serious. Aren’t you worried?”
“No need. We will get Elyan back.”
“Aren’t you angry then? At all?”
Arthur turns to glance at Gwen, checking she is still out of earshot. When he turns back to Merlin the carefree smile of a moment ago is gone and there is a storm behind his eyes.
“Of course I’m angry,” he admits tersely, his jaw suddenly a tight line. “Cenred wants Camelot and so he hates me, always has, that’s no surprise. I don’t even care. I expect it. But this is too much, even for him.” He grabs a pile of blankets and ties them together with a little more force than necessary. “He’s trying to use Gwen and I won’t allow it. He won’t hurt her again.”
Merlin frowns, still not understanding. “Why are being so calm if you feel this way?”
Arthur huffs in frustration. “For Gwen,” he explains, as though it is obvious. “She already blames herself for this, Merlin. You know she’s terrified something will happen to one of us.” He fixes Merlin with a serious glare as if warning him not to dare get hurt, for Gwen’s sake. “She needs this to be a simple rescue so that’s what it’s going to be.”
Merlin nods, smiling in understanding. “For Gwen.”
His smile must be a little too understanding because Arthur, blushing slightly, throws one of the bundles of blankets at him. Merlin simply laughs and throws it back, narrowly missing Arthur’s head.
Her attention caught by their noise, Gwen looks over and smiles indulgently at the two men who are now both aiming bundles at each other. They drop them at once and attempt to look busy.
Gwen rolls her eyes and turns back to her tasks, cheered by their high spirits.
Merlin watches Arthur’s gaze drift towards her almost involuntarily as it so often does, as though he cannot help but look at her when she’s near.
“Look at her,” Arthur says quietly, serious again. “How could anyone want to hurt her?”
Merlin looks at Morgana and feels cold. “I don’t know.”
~
“He’s got the Forge up and running.”
Elyan’s eyes bulge in shock to see the Prince of Camelot standing casually in his forge. He puts down his tools at once and drops his head respectfully. Elyan’s never been one for bowing to a man just because of his birth, but Arthur Pendragon is one man he is willing to make an exception for.
“I just wanted to see how you were settling in,” Arthur says conversationally, ignoring Elyan’s attempt at formality.
Elyan looks up to find Arthur smiling good-naturedly at him, looking around the forge with interest. “I see you’re almost set up already.”
Elyan blinks, surprised at Arthur’s easy conversation.
“Yes Sire,” he agrees, feeling a tiny surge of pride as he surveys his father’s old workshop, coming alive again.
“Excellent because I came to make an order.”
“An order?”
“Indeed.” Arthur hands him a scrap of paper with an extensive list outlined. His eyes are bright and Elyan suspects he’s rather enjoying himself.
“This is too much Sire.”
“There’s no hurry,” Arthur assures him easily. “It’s barely been a day. You can start when you’re up and running. Take your time.”
Elyan shakes his head. “No I didn’t mean that. It’s just that ... you’ve done so much for me already. I can’t accept any more - “ He hesitates, not wanting to offend.
Arthur, sensing Elyan’s meaning, interrupts. “It’s not charity.”
“No?”
“Not at all. My knights and I need a great deal of equipment and I always try to spread the work around all the good Blacksmiths in the area.”
It feels impertinent to ask but something about Arthur puts Elyan at ease enough to say. “What makes you so certain I’m a good Blacksmith?”
Arthur’s answer surprises him. “Because your father was the best Blacksmith in the Kingdom. He taught you I presume?”
“He did.”
“Excellent.” Arthur smiles, holds out the parchment again. “Take the order Elyan.”
“Thank you Sire.”
Arthur is half way out the door when Elyan gets up the courage to ask. “You say you always spread the work around the Blacksmiths in the area?”
“The good ones,” Arthur agrees.
“Do you always take the order to them personally?” Elyan asks, tongue between his teeth. “Or only to the ones with pretty sisters who might be nearby?”
For one long moment Arthur doesn’t say anything and Elyan fears he’s said too much. Then Arthur’s serious face dissolves in a shout of laughter.
“You’re the only one with a pretty sister my friend so we’ll never know,” he assures him, grinning broadly.
~
“The Wolves!”
Gwen is kept busy from the moment they return, attending to her usual duties and running out to see Elyan whenever she can. By lunch time he has secured himself somewhere to live and by evening has cleaned out the old forge and taken his first order (from Prince Arthur nonetheless). Gwen marvels at how he can settle in so easily, already half the town seem to know him.
Morgana stays in bed most of the day, claiming a pain in her ankle and a headache from the tiring ride. She dismisses Gwen early, telling her to get some rest. She seems strangely sad and Gwen wonders why, given the success of their trip. Once she might have asked her but only a ghost of their former closeness remains now so Gwen accepts her dismissal without protest and leaves for the day.
Throwing her cloak around her shoulders, Gwen heads past the guards and down the steps out of the main Castle.
Waiting for her at the foot of the staircase is Arthur. There is a cloak around his shoulders and a hood over his face but she would know the set of his shoulders anywhere.
When she reaches him, he takes her arm and begins to walk towards the town.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, though they are far from the guards now.
“Just making sure you get home safe,” Arthur whispers back. He leans rather closer than necessary and his words slip a trail of goosebumps down her neck.
In the corner of her eye she sees him smile, like he knows he made her tremble.
“You can’t walk me home every night just because there might be bandits in my house Arthur.”
“Why not?”
“People will talk.”
“People do.”
“Arthur.”
“Just this once then? Humour me?”
It’s hardly open for argument, since they’ve already walked half the way to her house as it is. The further they get from the castle, the closer he pulls her to him until he’s got one arm wound around her waist, holding him tightly into his side. She knows she should step away from him but the darkness makes her bold so she lets him reach his other arm across and take her hand.
When they reach her door, he releases her and spins around to face her, his back to the door. In the shadows of his hood she can see him smiling.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” he asks boldly. “After all, the bandits did take you from inside...”
Gwen is about to protest that they really shouldn’t when he takes her hand and pulls her into the house with him.
Inside he pulls down his hood, flings the cloak on her table and grins at her, eyes sparkling with possibility. She tries to frown at him but she cannot hide a smile in reply.
He holds up a finger to silence her and makes a quick search of her home, throwing back every cover to check they are quite alone.
When he has swept the whole room, she turns and asks, “Happy now? There is no-one here.”
He grins. “Finally.”
He moves so quickly she barely even feels him wind an arm around her waist and spin her into his arms. She collides lightly with his chest and gasps at the sudden proximity, looking up to see one glimpse of his smiling face before he closes his eyes and dips his head to press a sudden kiss to her lips.
Gwen feels her eyes flutter closed as she responds to his kiss, breathing a sigh of his name against his lips that makes him pull her closer to him, one hand slipping into her hair. She kisses him back urgently, forgetting for a moment all the reasons why she shouldn’t.
They break apart after a few moments, both breathing heavily. Arthur smiles against her lips, pressing a quick chaste kiss there before lifting his head to rest his forehead against hers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t be.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
They step apart and Arthur smiles unabashedly down at Gwen, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Good night Guinevere.”
“Good night Arthur.”
He has flung the cloak around his shoulders and is at the door when she calls out, “And Arthur, really ... wolves?”
He laughs as he steps into the night. “You never know.”
~
:)