The Wife 10/?
Title: The Wife 10/?
Author:tudor_rose445
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings:Arthur, Guinevere, Morgana, Uther, Merlin, Gaius, Arthur/Guinevere,
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3
Disclaimer: I own nothing. BBC owns "Merlin".
Summary: AU. As the wife of the prince Gwen knows that she is destined to one day rule beside him. Yet the road to the throne will not be simple. Talks of an heir looming above her, the growing worry over Morgana, Uther's ill health, and her confusion over her spouse will not help in the slightest. Yet her trials are nesecary to grow into her title as 'wife' to one of legend's most famous kings. The second entry in "The Once and Future" series.
Chapter 10:
A shocking message is brought from Gore.
Author's Note:
I am sorry that this has taken so long. Christmas took up all my time. I'm going to try to get back on my ten day update schedule again. But thank you all for the reviews and birthday wishes!
“My lady.”
The king bowed over her extended hand before placing a kiss to her knuckles. Gwen tried her best not to grimace and quickly forced a smile to her face as Melwas looked up to meet her gaze.
“You have been the most gracious of guests, my lord,” she said, the lie slipping past her lips easier than she thought. He seemed to be one that favored flattery, to the point where it was clearly fake. But if he realized that she wasn’t true with her sentiments he did not call her out on it.
“I wish you a safe journey back to the Summer Country.”
Melwas inclined his head in thanks for her well wishes before going to bid Uther goodbye, nut not before giving her a lingering look.
She looped her arm back into Arthur’s, taking her eyes away from the foreign king. She knew as well as Arthur that nothing could be said about the liberties Melwas had taken. For one it could cause even more tension between the two nations, which neither wanted. And second, Uther might accuse Arthur of overreacting. The two instead settled for silence, and for Gwen to be stuck to her husband’s side for the duration of Melwas’ visit.
She moved to mount the stairs with Arthur to return to the castle, and suddenly found a second arm looping through her left arm. She looked over in surprise, to see the leather clad hand of Gwaine as he helped her up the steps. Stifling a laugh she allowed both men to escort her up the ‘treacherous’ stairs, thoughts of the king erased from her mind for the moment.
Two months later
“A bit to the right. Under the window….there!”
Merlin stepped back from where he had been lugging around the finely carved cradle. As he straightened he stretched his back, looking down at the furniture piece with relief. That cradle hadn’t exactly been the easiest thing to carry from the storage chambers to the heir’s designated nursery. But Gwen had asked him to retrieve it and who was he to say no to her? Princess or not, she was his friend.
“But I don’t wish for him to catch a chill so close to the window… Maybe we should move it back slightly?”
He hid his grimace before moving to haul the Cradle of Estate farther away from the window.
There!
“But I fear he won’t be able to feel the warmth of the sun anymore…”
Apparently he didn’t hide his expression fast enough this time, as Gwen caught sight of his less than eager appearance.
“Oh! Merlin, I’m sorry!”
She moved over to him, as quick as her now weighed down frame could manage, and placed her hands over his on the side of the cradle in order to prevent him from moving it.
“I didn’t realize…. Just leave it, please.”
The young man shook his head.
“I’ll move it-”
She frowned, shaking her head.
“I’ll have Arthur move it into place later.”
Seeing that the princess was giving him a rather sincere look, Merlin greatfully stepped back from the cradle. It’s occupant was going to weigh so little…shouldn’t its bed weigh next to nothing? Apparently not.
The man chuckled.
“Arthur? Please, whatever you do, don’t have me relay the message,” he teased, only imagining the smack to the head he would get for such a request. He honestly thought that the man had never done such a simple task in his life. And why should he have had? He had been waited on hand and foot since birth.
Gwen smiled, standing up and stretching her back.
“He’ll do it for this,” she said, glancing down at the cradle.
Every royal child had slept in that cradle, at least back five generations. It had been slept in by the incompetent king that Uther had defeated in battle, earning him the country. And it had been slept in by both Arthur and Morgana. Now her children were to lay down their tiny heads and slumber in the cot.
Even though she was in her sixth month of pregnancy, she wished to ready the nursery to receive her child. A room had been chosen in the wing that both she, Morgana, and Arthur had first lived in during their childhood. It was a floor below her chambers, which was really only a few moments away. He, or she, would be given a household of their own to oversee their every need. It wasn’t typical for a woman of her status to be very involved in her child’s life, yet she couldn’t imagine not taking any interest. Igraine had been very involved in her childrens’ lives, as had Uther until her death. Gwen wished for her child to know her, not fear her.
Even so, she would still need to find the child a nurse and wet nurse. Ladies of her position did not breastfeed their own children. For as soon as her milk dried she would be able to have her courses once more, which would allow for another child to be conceived. She hoped that Arthur would not insist on another right away. The backaches that she was feeling already from the added weight, along with the stress of carrying the possible heir, were nearly doing her in. Not to mention the sickness she had felt earlier in her pregnancy. Well, at least she wasn’t spewing up her breakfast anymore.
Having been lost in thought, she hadn’t been expecting the jolt in her stomach.
She held out a hand to a nearby chest of draws to keep herself standing in her shock. What had that been? She realized that Merlin was calling her name yet she didn’t answer. Not even the urgency in his tone as he neared her was enough to prompt her. For a horrifying moment she thought that she was losing the baby. Her heart rate increased as panic set in. The blood, she didn’t want to see it!
But after a moment of nothing happening she was able to realize what had just happened.
The jolt hadn’t been painful, more like a nudge.
A kick.
She gasped, startling the poor manservant further.
“Gwen?” he inquired yet again, panic clear on his features.
She laughed, somewhat breathless, as she had not been breathing in fear of dislodging her child.
He continued to stare at her, but now in utter confusion instead of urgency.
She crossed the room to where a chair had been placed before the empty fireplace.
“He’s alive,” she whispered, feeling relief wash over her.
Another kick had her near in tears.
“He kicked!”
She had been terribly worried that the baby might have died within her womb, as she had yet to feel his movement. According to the midwife, and Batilda, a woman normally felt the child move somewhere after her fifth month. But up until now, in her sixth month, she hadn’t felt a single flutter. Yet the incessant kicking in her stomach erased this fear. She turned her gleeful gaze upon Merlin, who was staring at her with something close to wonder.
“Find Arthur,” she said, wishing for him to share in this moment with her.
The request sent the young man bolting from the room, skidding in the doorway before making a sharp right.
A laugh bubbled up through her lips as she rubbed her stomach tenderly.
“My darling, strong boy,” she whispered, staring down at the bump through the fabric of her gown. She wondered if he could hear her. Was that possible? She would have to inquire with the midwife.
It was nearly five minutes later when Arthur arrived, still dressed in his mail. There was a slight sheen of sweat still on his brow, suggesting that he hadn’t even had the time to wash up after drilling the knights.
“What’s happened?” he inquired, urgency clear in his tone as his gaze settled on his wife. His eyes had previously swept the room, as if expecting to see some tragedy. Merlin hadn’t had the chance to explain what had happened, as all the boy had told him was that his wife was in the nursery, and something had happened with his child.
Her beaming face caught him off guard, as he had been expecting the worst.
“Here,” she said, beckoning him over to her. He knelt before her, his eyes questioning silently what was wrong.
She took his hand without a word and started to remove his glove. He helped her without a word, confusion wrinkling his brow.
Carefully she took his hand and placed it where she had last felt her child kick. She hoped that the few kicks he had just given would not be all for the day. She wanted her husband to feel the small movement that ensured that their child was thriving as she had.
She needn’t have worried, for a few moments later Arthur’s eyes went wide.
“It’s….him?” he asked, awe entering his voice. Guinevere watched him look at her womb as if it was the most magnificent thing he had ever before seen.
He looked so…innocent in that moment. So much like the child she had met the first day she had arrived in Camelot.
How their child would look.
Without warning he reached up to kiss her, which sent a warm tingle down her spine.
A breathless laugh slipped past her lips as he embraced her after.
She felt as if she was floating on air, and hadn’t the slightest wish to return to the ground.
0o0o0
Masses of thanksgiving had been sung all throughout the week for the quickening in Gwen’s womb. She felt as if her face had been stuck in a permanent smile since telling Arthur of the news. The first few days following the news she had been greeted with countless congratulations that made her feel as if she had just announced her pregnancy all over. But being in the favor of the courtiers wasn’t something that one brushed aside. One could have their favor today, and their hatred tomorrow.
One thing she could do without since announcing that the child had moved was the increased wariness of her husband, brother, and Gwaine. They had for the most part allowed her space in the first few months of her pregnancy (except for Arthur) but now , with the birth only three months away, they seemed to be restricting her further. At times she wished to lash out, but the thought behind their actions usually kept her from doing so. Anyway, it was just another three months. Three months and then she would be able to take a breath again.
Supping with the king, as both she and her husband were doing nearly a week from the first flutter, gave her no reprieve either.
It was always ‘Do you want anything else, Gwen’ or ‘You’ve had your milk, haven’t you’? She hadn’t been treated as such since before she had had her first set of stays. To appease the two men at the table she took another helping of pork and another goblet of asses milk.
True, she still felt hungry, but it was the principle of the matter…..
A sharp rapping at the door had the three royals looking up from the table.
The king nodded to Merlin who placed his wine jug down before going to permit the intruder.
A guard escorted a rather harried, exhausted looking man inside of the dining chamber. He needn’t explain who he was, as the crest of Gore was clear on his dusty jacket.
Kneeling before the table as the king stood, the man bowed his head.
“I’ve come with dreadful news,” he started, gasping as if he had run from his horse all the way to the chamber. Which he probably did, looking at the state of him.
Instantly Gwen’s heart leapt into her throat, thinking of Morgana. Had Ursien found out that she had magic? He didn’t have a strict policy on the use of magic as Uther did, but he may not appreciate his wife withholding such a secret from him.
“King Ursien is dead. Murdered.”
Uther stood up from his chair so quickly that he nearly toppled it over.
As the king had yet to formulate a response, Arthur turned to the messenger.
“And my sister? What of the queen and her son?” His speech was hurried, as if his mind was flying ahead of the messenger’s response and already formulating more questions.
The man rested on his knee, tears barely hidden in his eyes at the loss of his monarch.
“Both Her Majesty and the prince- the king- are safe. The villain has yet to be apprehended, but they are both given high security. King Lot himself has sent men to defend King Mordred’s claim, as well as protecting the Dowager.”
Dowager.
Murdered.
King Mordred.
Her mind spun as she tried to process what she had just been told.
“The boy,” she said, startling the three men by her abrupt speech.
“The boy can’t be allowed to stay there. It is much too dangerous,” she said, thinking that if Morgana had enemies they would certainly waste no time getting to the new king. One could never please everyone in life, and she knew from Morgana’s letters that there was a faction at Ursien’s court who despised her. It would only be too easy for those who did not like her to dispose of her, perhaps in the same way that Ursien had been killed, in order to take the power behind the throne. Mordred would not rule alone for at least another eighteen years. That was eighteen years of power someone else would have.
“You,” Uther said, nodding toward the man as he stood.
“I’ll give you a reply to send to my daughter. You’ll have a bed for the night and then you must depart at first light. I’ll have men sent with you, to put down any….problems.”
Knowing the king for so long, Gwen could see the hidden panic in the older man’s eyes. He too was thinking of the dangers that would be lurking for his daughter.
Once the two had left the room Gwen stood up from her own chair, finding that she no longer had an appetite.
“He can’t stay there,” she repeated, her hands moving to rest on the back of her chair.
Neither could Morgana, but she would be able to handle herself with the force of Lot and Uther’s men.
But her thoughts centered mostly on the helpless babe who had now been shackled with the title of ‘king’.
“He’ll be under the best protection available,” Arthur insisted, also standing. He nodded to Merlin, who descended upon the table with Catherine to clean up the remnants.
She shook her head, knowing that might not be enough.
“Before the messenger leaves tomorrow, I wish to write to Morgana. Perhaps we could foster the child until things have been settled.” She gave him a rather pleading glance. “It would put him out of harms’ way entirely, and give Morgana some ease of mind.”
She knew, despite having not spoken to the woman about it, that Morgana would be far happier with her son safe than beside her in danger.
Her thoughts flew ahead of the current moment. With Mordred under their care he could grow up with their son, and his consequent siblings. That was, until matters in Gore were calmed. Honestly she thought it benefited both parties. Why would Morgana refuse?
Instead of providing an argument, as she had expected, Arthur nodded.
“I’ll speak to Father about it,” he said, meeting her around the table.
“We’ll get it taken care of.”
0o0o0
A week had passed before they received word of Gore’s condition. A Camelot messenger had returned with a stack of letters for the royal family along with an overall report by Sir Leon, who had been dispatched to lead the security troop.
Apparently Ursien had been found by his manservant with a dagger in his heart shortly after supper. What followed over the course of the days after was utter chaos. The castle was sent on a manhunt to track down the murderer while those who had given the slightest bit of suspicion were heavily interrogated. Morgause’s king, Lot, had sent in men as the Gore messenger had mentioned. By the time Camelot’s troop had arrived things had mostly been ironed out.
Morgana was Queen Regent until her son was declared of age.
The dissenters had been put down and warned.
Yet the culprit was still on the lose.
As of yet nothing had been found, but Leon spoke of the continued effort to root out the killer.
But what was most upsetting of all had been Morgana’s answer to the fostering of Mordred.
Gwen tried not to let the missive upset her, yet she had had to stop reading it halfway through, and had instead thrust it at Arthur to finish.
Her friend had been insulted!
Insulted that Gwen and Arthur wished to take away her child to a place where he had no claim to. A place that might prove to be more dangerous to him than the unsettled Gore was.
Arthur had been confused at her choice of words, but Gwen had realized what her friend had been implying.
If Mordred had magic as she did, his life may be in danger if he grew up in Uther’s court.
Still, it stung just the same to see her seemingly idyllic plan torn to shreds by her one of the closest friends.
Maybe most damning of all was that Morgana did intend to have her son fostered, but not by the Pendragons.
Morgause had been asked to look after the child until further notice, and had accepted.
This had set Gwen’s blood to boil. She knew that Morgause was proving an invaluable friend to Morgana, but she was not kin as herself and Arthur were. She knew that it might just be jealousy at having her status as close friend being overtaken by another, but there was something beneath Morgause that bothered her. Normally a child was given one godparent of the opposite gender, and two of their own sex. Yet Mordred had managed to have both Gwen and Morgause as godmothers. She hadn't commented on it before, but the addition of the queen to a role she rightfully thought was her's had irked her.
Willing to think of it no further, she tucked the letter beneath the rest of the replies sent by Morgana.
She had far more important things to worry about, as the nudge in her stomach reminded her.