Well Aimed Blow; Merlin
Title: Well Aimed Blow
Authors: mydoctortennant
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwen
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not real. Despite birthday wishes and night time prayers to Santa (all Hail Amy Pond!) Merlin still isn't mine!
Rating: PG
Summary: One way he can ensure her safety is to teach her how to fight...
Author Notes: Written for my prompt monster miki_hime1221 as a part of the Prompt Lottery when the very say prompt was given to me. This fic won me the Best Characterisation of Arthur award and along with my other two entries won me the Most Popular Author prize. Thank you so much to every person who voted for me, it means the world to me. Thank you so much and congrats to all the others who participated and won other awards.
My Merlin Prompt Table
When the sun rises over Camelot the servants of the castle are already awake and at work ready for the long day ahead. The Kitchen staff are preparing breakfast for the nobles, the stable boys are mucking out the horses, grooming them and preparing them for the day’s hunt. The handmaidens are finishing their last minute chores before their mistresses wake and the menservants are far behind them.
But there are two people who aren’t where they should be.
At this time in the morning nobody expects (nor suspects) the Prince to be anywhere other than his bed. Even in the company of a woman (some ay say a girl) as he is at current. But nobody would ever expect him to be in a clearing in the middle of a wood with a serving girl.
Guinevere at that.
She’s one of the quiet ones. She doesn’t partake in the sexual cajoling like the other girls do. She doesn’t speak of conquests and night time trysts. She keeps her head down and her thoughts to herself. That is of course until the topic turns towards the Prince. Then her head is held high and she firmly tells them that she thinks he’s arrogant and in severe need of growing up.
It’s another reason why they would all be so surprised to find that Guinevere spent her early mornings with him. Sometimes in his arms as he guides her movements; other times under his scrutiny as he watches her every movement.
She wields a weapon now as if she were a natural born fighter. Arthur is more than impressed at the progress she’s made in three short weeks. He knows that as a blacksmith’s daughter she’s bound to know a step of two and she certainly knew how to swing a sword, but there was a clumsiness about her movements that he has trained out of her.
It had all started after an attack on the lower town. Gwen’s home had been ransacked and the only positive Arthur could come up with was that she hadn’t been there at the time and hadn’t been attacked herself. She, of course, was adamant that she was more than capable of looking after herself which he hadn’t taken lightly and had demanded that she allow him to teach her at least a thing or two about combat.
It took Merlin talking at her for hours to finally convince her that it was a good idea. He’d said something about ‘Arthur’s being a pain in the back side but he’s only trying to look out for you’ and ‘He loves you, just let him show you that in his own way’.
“You’re still dropping your elbow too early,” Arthur critiqued as he stood to show her the movement again, “By keeping your elbow level through the lunge you keep the power in the blow. If you drop the elbow some of your energy is lost though it and your hit won’t hurt.”
“I know, Arthur. We’ve been at this for hours. I’m tired and I have to be at work soon or people will start to wonder where I am.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“I know, and I’m thankful for it, but not all of us are going to be as good a fighter as the best knight in Camelot.”
“I suppose not.”
“Besides, you could do with practising yourself. You don’t want Sir Leon to beat you in the sword tourney again this year, do you?” a wicked glint gleamed in her eye as she leant her weight into the hilt of the sword as the tip jabbed into the ground.
“Oh really?” he replied cockily, “think I could do with some practise?” He pulled his sword from its sheath and stood before her. He beckoned for her to attack him but she did not move, “No?”
“Don’t be so ridiculous, Arthur.”
“You’re the one who said I needed practise.”
“Yes, with the other knights.”
“Why train with them and let them know all of my secrets when I can train with you and let you?”
She took his bait with a gentle blow to the top of his sword, it dislodged in his hand, unassuming of the movement. The tang of the swords filled their senses as again they touched; rougher this time, “Don’t hold back.”
“I should say the same of you,” Gwen retorted knowing full well that he would never fight her to the best of his abilities, “Make it a fair fight.”
“A fair fight wouldn’t be posting you against the Prince of Camelot.”
“Scared of a servant?”
“Only of you,” he snipped back as they pair of them started to spar. Arthur knew every move she would make before she made it. He could calculate what she would do next based on what he had taught her. She knew, as well as he did, that one well aimed blow was all it would take to knock him from his feet.
Little did he know was that Guinevere had done more in her time in the castle that laundry and tending to Morgana. She had watched him train with the knight’s on many mornings and again on some afternoons as she worked by the castle windows or near the training ground.
She knew every aspect of his fight.
She knew his weaknesses.
She knew his strengths.
Most of all, she knew what he would do next.
He sent blows to her legs, her body and her arms all of which she successfully blocked and followed-up with an experimental return. Once she slashed at his head. Against their unspoken rules and she dutifully bowed her head in apology only to have him take advantage of her wavered gaze and precluded her from beating him on this occasion.
With his arm around her shoulders and his sword precariously positioned at her throat Gwen reluctantly dropped her sword.
“What was that about Sir Leon beating me?”
“I really think he could,” Gwen replied smartly looking up at him as his arm became lax around her, resting his hand upon her waist rather intimately and lowering his sword. She took her opportunity to strike. She rammed back her elbow into his stomach making him double over. She expertly drew the sword as she neatly twisted around one-hundred-and-eighty degrees and held the point to his heart.
“Fighting dirty?”
“One well aimed blow, and you never declared the fight as over,” he smirked up at her and slowly straightened. He dropped his sword to his right, opening his body to any attack she might wish to send his way. She too repeated the movement, “I should get to work.”
“I should get back to my chambers before Merlin wakes up,” Arthur said, “He’s been shocked to find me out of bed every morning, sometimes I wonder if he might follow me to find out why.”
“He’s the one who insisted I let you teach me how to fight.”
“I know, but the less he knows the better. We can’t risk him telling the wrong person.”
“You think Merlin would?”
“Don’t you?”
“No.”
“You are a better person than me, Guinevere.”
There was silence. Gwen looked to the floor with a blush creeping over her features. Arthur didn’t even try to back track his comment or justify himself in anyway.
“You shall become a great ruler, Arthur, never forget that. Until such times I must return to work. I will see you later?”
“Sunset by the roses.”
“Sunset,” she bowed her head and made her leave, not looking back towards the Prince.
No. Not a soul would think that the Prince and the Handmaiden would be in the middle of a forest clearing so early in the morning with the birds singing in the trees and the dew formed in perfect drops on the long grass.
If they went down to the woods today they’d be in for a big surprise.
Authors: mydoctortennant
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwen
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not real. Despite birthday wishes and night time prayers to Santa (all Hail Amy Pond!) Merlin still isn't mine!
Rating: PG
Summary: One way he can ensure her safety is to teach her how to fight...
Author Notes: Written for my prompt monster miki_hime1221 as a part of the Prompt Lottery when the very say prompt was given to me. This fic won me the Best Characterisation of Arthur award and along with my other two entries won me the Most Popular Author prize. Thank you so much to every person who voted for me, it means the world to me. Thank you so much and congrats to all the others who participated and won other awards.
My Merlin Prompt Table
When the sun rises over Camelot the servants of the castle are already awake and at work ready for the long day ahead. The Kitchen staff are preparing breakfast for the nobles, the stable boys are mucking out the horses, grooming them and preparing them for the day’s hunt. The handmaidens are finishing their last minute chores before their mistresses wake and the menservants are far behind them.
But there are two people who aren’t where they should be.
At this time in the morning nobody expects (nor suspects) the Prince to be anywhere other than his bed. Even in the company of a woman (some ay say a girl) as he is at current. But nobody would ever expect him to be in a clearing in the middle of a wood with a serving girl.
Guinevere at that.
She’s one of the quiet ones. She doesn’t partake in the sexual cajoling like the other girls do. She doesn’t speak of conquests and night time trysts. She keeps her head down and her thoughts to herself. That is of course until the topic turns towards the Prince. Then her head is held high and she firmly tells them that she thinks he’s arrogant and in severe need of growing up.
It’s another reason why they would all be so surprised to find that Guinevere spent her early mornings with him. Sometimes in his arms as he guides her movements; other times under his scrutiny as he watches her every movement.
She wields a weapon now as if she were a natural born fighter. Arthur is more than impressed at the progress she’s made in three short weeks. He knows that as a blacksmith’s daughter she’s bound to know a step of two and she certainly knew how to swing a sword, but there was a clumsiness about her movements that he has trained out of her.
It had all started after an attack on the lower town. Gwen’s home had been ransacked and the only positive Arthur could come up with was that she hadn’t been there at the time and hadn’t been attacked herself. She, of course, was adamant that she was more than capable of looking after herself which he hadn’t taken lightly and had demanded that she allow him to teach her at least a thing or two about combat.
It took Merlin talking at her for hours to finally convince her that it was a good idea. He’d said something about ‘Arthur’s being a pain in the back side but he’s only trying to look out for you’ and ‘He loves you, just let him show you that in his own way’.
“You’re still dropping your elbow too early,” Arthur critiqued as he stood to show her the movement again, “By keeping your elbow level through the lunge you keep the power in the blow. If you drop the elbow some of your energy is lost though it and your hit won’t hurt.”
“I know, Arthur. We’ve been at this for hours. I’m tired and I have to be at work soon or people will start to wonder where I am.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“I know, and I’m thankful for it, but not all of us are going to be as good a fighter as the best knight in Camelot.”
“I suppose not.”
“Besides, you could do with practising yourself. You don’t want Sir Leon to beat you in the sword tourney again this year, do you?” a wicked glint gleamed in her eye as she leant her weight into the hilt of the sword as the tip jabbed into the ground.
“Oh really?” he replied cockily, “think I could do with some practise?” He pulled his sword from its sheath and stood before her. He beckoned for her to attack him but she did not move, “No?”
“Don’t be so ridiculous, Arthur.”
“You’re the one who said I needed practise.”
“Yes, with the other knights.”
“Why train with them and let them know all of my secrets when I can train with you and let you?”
She took his bait with a gentle blow to the top of his sword, it dislodged in his hand, unassuming of the movement. The tang of the swords filled their senses as again they touched; rougher this time, “Don’t hold back.”
“I should say the same of you,” Gwen retorted knowing full well that he would never fight her to the best of his abilities, “Make it a fair fight.”
“A fair fight wouldn’t be posting you against the Prince of Camelot.”
“Scared of a servant?”
“Only of you,” he snipped back as they pair of them started to spar. Arthur knew every move she would make before she made it. He could calculate what she would do next based on what he had taught her. She knew, as well as he did, that one well aimed blow was all it would take to knock him from his feet.
Little did he know was that Guinevere had done more in her time in the castle that laundry and tending to Morgana. She had watched him train with the knight’s on many mornings and again on some afternoons as she worked by the castle windows or near the training ground.
She knew every aspect of his fight.
She knew his weaknesses.
She knew his strengths.
Most of all, she knew what he would do next.
He sent blows to her legs, her body and her arms all of which she successfully blocked and followed-up with an experimental return. Once she slashed at his head. Against their unspoken rules and she dutifully bowed her head in apology only to have him take advantage of her wavered gaze and precluded her from beating him on this occasion.
With his arm around her shoulders and his sword precariously positioned at her throat Gwen reluctantly dropped her sword.
“What was that about Sir Leon beating me?”
“I really think he could,” Gwen replied smartly looking up at him as his arm became lax around her, resting his hand upon her waist rather intimately and lowering his sword. She took her opportunity to strike. She rammed back her elbow into his stomach making him double over. She expertly drew the sword as she neatly twisted around one-hundred-and-eighty degrees and held the point to his heart.
“Fighting dirty?”
“One well aimed blow, and you never declared the fight as over,” he smirked up at her and slowly straightened. He dropped his sword to his right, opening his body to any attack she might wish to send his way. She too repeated the movement, “I should get to work.”
“I should get back to my chambers before Merlin wakes up,” Arthur said, “He’s been shocked to find me out of bed every morning, sometimes I wonder if he might follow me to find out why.”
“He’s the one who insisted I let you teach me how to fight.”
“I know, but the less he knows the better. We can’t risk him telling the wrong person.”
“You think Merlin would?”
“Don’t you?”
“No.”
“You are a better person than me, Guinevere.”
There was silence. Gwen looked to the floor with a blush creeping over her features. Arthur didn’t even try to back track his comment or justify himself in anyway.
“You shall become a great ruler, Arthur, never forget that. Until such times I must return to work. I will see you later?”
“Sunset by the roses.”
“Sunset,” she bowed her head and made her leave, not looking back towards the Prince.
No. Not a soul would think that the Prince and the Handmaiden would be in the middle of a forest clearing so early in the morning with the birds singing in the trees and the dew formed in perfect drops on the long grass.
If they went down to the woods today they’d be in for a big surprise.