[fic] : merlin (gwen/arthur) - Cooking With Gwen
Title: Cooking With Gwen (or, Because Of The Lady With The Face Of A Toad)
Rating: PG
Word count: 500 words
Characters: Arthur/Gwen
Summary: Arthur gets some cooking lessons from Gwen. Written for the VFest, for the prompt Merlin - Gwen/Arthur - a dare
Disclaimer: Merlin is copyright to the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
---
He knows they can't be together; her a servant, and him (soon) a king. Arthur knows he should be turning his mind to other things. Another endless patrol with the guards. Or perhaps another conversation about that Lady Something-Or-Other who his father thought might make him an excellent wife, in a few years time.
She's pretty enough, Arthur supposes. But when she scolds (screams at, more like) her servants, the rage curls her face into the likeness of a toad.
No, thank you.
So it is partly Lady Toad-Face that finds him visiting Gwen more and more. Some days he's restless, waiting until the moment when he's free to escape and find her. It is (if he's being honest with himself, which he generally avoids) a little like the time that sorceress bewitched him. Except he remembers things. And Gwen isn't intent on drowning him.
-
"Stop cleaning, stop working, stop moving for a second, and talk to me!" he implores her. She's cooking dinner, and the delicious smell fills her tiny house. But every sentence she speaks is half-finished, or trails off. And as charming as his voice and his stories are, he does want to hear hers.
"Fine, Arthur Pendragon," she says, spinning around. Her hands are on her hips and her expression is somewhere between malevolent and mischievous. "I will stop moving," she begins to untie her apron, and his mind goes somewhere else, imagines other laces being undone, and - he forces his mind back to what she is saying - "if you will come here and cook instead." His mind still a little befuddled by that onslaught of images, Arthur stutters out something about chickens and clueless and when had he ever needed to cook and not wanting her to starve, thank you very much. (He reminds himself forcefully of Merlin. The thought alarms him.)
"Are you afraid of this chicken, your majesty?"
"No..."
"I don't think you'd cook it, even if I dared you to," Gwen says, almost to herself. "You're that terrified. More shaken than a young knight in his first joust." That stings Arthur into action.
"Do you dare me, then?"
"...yes," says Gwen, smiling as she turns to sit down. Arthur grabs at her arm.
"No-" he says. “You must stand here,” he places her at his elbow, “and tell me what to do. Otherwise...”
She laughs outright at that, but agrees. She places her smaller hand on his, guiding his knife as he crushes garlic beneath it. He knows how to use a knife, he almost tells her. But he likes the feeling of her hand on his. And if he was to be honest, he might admit that he almost likes her telling him what to do. (But not really. No, of course not...)
-
The chicken is edible, after all. Arthur tells Gwen he knew it would be excellent all along, really. He should never have doubted himself.
“Next time, you can cook fish,” says Gwen, as he leaves.
---
end.
Rating: PG
Word count: 500 words
Characters: Arthur/Gwen
Summary: Arthur gets some cooking lessons from Gwen. Written for the VFest, for the prompt Merlin - Gwen/Arthur - a dare
Disclaimer: Merlin is copyright to the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
---
He knows they can't be together; her a servant, and him (soon) a king. Arthur knows he should be turning his mind to other things. Another endless patrol with the guards. Or perhaps another conversation about that Lady Something-Or-Other who his father thought might make him an excellent wife, in a few years time.
She's pretty enough, Arthur supposes. But when she scolds (screams at, more like) her servants, the rage curls her face into the likeness of a toad.
No, thank you.
So it is partly Lady Toad-Face that finds him visiting Gwen more and more. Some days he's restless, waiting until the moment when he's free to escape and find her. It is (if he's being honest with himself, which he generally avoids) a little like the time that sorceress bewitched him. Except he remembers things. And Gwen isn't intent on drowning him.
-
"Stop cleaning, stop working, stop moving for a second, and talk to me!" he implores her. She's cooking dinner, and the delicious smell fills her tiny house. But every sentence she speaks is half-finished, or trails off. And as charming as his voice and his stories are, he does want to hear hers.
"Fine, Arthur Pendragon," she says, spinning around. Her hands are on her hips and her expression is somewhere between malevolent and mischievous. "I will stop moving," she begins to untie her apron, and his mind goes somewhere else, imagines other laces being undone, and - he forces his mind back to what she is saying - "if you will come here and cook instead." His mind still a little befuddled by that onslaught of images, Arthur stutters out something about chickens and clueless and when had he ever needed to cook and not wanting her to starve, thank you very much. (He reminds himself forcefully of Merlin. The thought alarms him.)
"Are you afraid of this chicken, your majesty?"
"No..."
"I don't think you'd cook it, even if I dared you to," Gwen says, almost to herself. "You're that terrified. More shaken than a young knight in his first joust." That stings Arthur into action.
"Do you dare me, then?"
"...yes," says Gwen, smiling as she turns to sit down. Arthur grabs at her arm.
"No-" he says. “You must stand here,” he places her at his elbow, “and tell me what to do. Otherwise...”
She laughs outright at that, but agrees. She places her smaller hand on his, guiding his knife as he crushes garlic beneath it. He knows how to use a knife, he almost tells her. But he likes the feeling of her hand on his. And if he was to be honest, he might admit that he almost likes her telling him what to do. (But not really. No, of course not...)
-
The chicken is edible, after all. Arthur tells Gwen he knew it would be excellent all along, really. He should never have doubted himself.
“Next time, you can cook fish,” says Gwen, as he leaves.
---
end.