The Five Times They Forgot Where They Were...; Merlin
Title: The Five Times they Forgot Where They Were...
Author: mydoctortennant
Pairing/s: Arthur/Gwen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: not mine etc etc
Dedication: For ladyofflower7
Summary: Sometimes they forget just who they are and where they are...
my merlin prompt table
1. The Time After The Jousting Tournament
The tournament had ended and with it bought the end of Arthur’s jaunt staying in Gwen’s house. If he was honest it hadn’t been what he had been expecting. Then again, he’d never expected that his stay would end in him kissing her. Nor would he expect himself to turn into a grinning idiot about it.
He caught her eye across the Great Hall whilst he was addressing his father. It only made him smile wider when Gwen blushed and looked to the floor. The only problem was, he knew this could never continue pass the stolen looks and the memories of the last few days.
Gwen had made him feel more human that he’d felt in his entire life. Merely having her stand up to him and telling him when he was wrong made him feel more accepted, even if half the time she was chastising him.
For a moment though, he let his mind wonder - as her eyes caught with his - and he thought about what if that was his life. What if he was a peasant and he and Gwen lived together in her modest house. He didn’t have a chance to get ahead of himself; his father was asking him questions.
It made him remember himself, remember Gwen and her position. Then he remembered where he was and he collected himself.
2. The Time Around the Fire
It wasn’t how he’d envisaged it at all, he’d imagined a loving embrace as he freed her from the cell. Perhaps a kiss, and Merlin standing awkwardly behind them, trying not to interrupt. Then guards approaching and him having to, only for Arthur to sigh at him, and grab her hand and run.
It hadn’t gone like that at all, and now he was forced to endure his presence after he’d been the Knight in shining armour. Arthur couldn’t even look at her without feeling like he’d been kicked rather hard in the gut and then some. He couldn’t help to look at her, but there was no love in her look now, she scowled at him then looked at the fire.
He’d manage to screw up in a matter of seconds.
The only good thing to come from it, was the fact that he’d seen the look on Arthur’s face, and left without a word to her.
Even if she was in a mood with him, at least it put the competition out of the running.
3. The Time In The Great Hall
Blood, sweat and tears. All could be seen and smelt in the Great Hall as it doubled as a hospital. Gaius treating those he could and Gwen those he couldn’t. They’d needed water and in going to get some from the well both Gwen and Arthur had faced the Dragon, injuring him in its wake.
“You’ll have to take off your armour,” Gwen said, Arthur cleared his throat and smirked. Gwen rolled her eyes and reached for the first bucket.
“One would hope you don’t go about taking off all Knight’s armour.”
“Only those that save my life,” Arthur smiled. Even in the face of so much terror she made him feel better.
Once his clothing was gone from his top half Gwen set about gently dabbing his wound. It would have to be thoroughly cleaned or they risked infection. She set about her work in a delicate manner. She could feel Arthur’s gaze on her.
“You shouldn’t have risked your life.”
“I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you,” after a short delay she smiled up at him. Their eyes meeting in one of those loving glances they shot at each other whenever they were within a close proximity of each other.
He took her hand, stopping her motions and placing her hand on his heart. She could feel the erratic beat of the muscle beating her fingertips.
Neither of them noticed the old man looking at them from across the room, knowing smile on his face.
4. The Time In The Courtyard
He had never expected to return from his excursion against the dragon. He’d been expecting himself to be killed in battle. He’d never said goodbye, she’d been too busy and he didn’t think he could manage it. He’d never want to leave.
As he strode up the gangway to the castle he noted every detail of his kingdom. Every lick of fire. Every piece of damage. Every part that was still intact. He watched smoke circle into the sky from the dying flames. Listening to the clunk of his boots on the stones beneath his feet.
So distracted he didn’t even notice the running figure headed straight for him until her arms where about his shoulders.
“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered in his ear. His arms around her waist, he smiled into her hair. They had won.
In the middle of the courtyard, a handmaiden was embracing the Crowned Prince of Camelot, and nobody around them batted an eyelid, all too happy to still be alive.
It was only when they reached the quiet that he took her hand and twirled her around to face him, “Guinevere.”
“Arthur,” she smiled. He’d returned to her. After all her wishing and hoping he’d returned relatively unscathed.
A broad smile reached his lips, mirroring the look on her face. He stooped his head catching her lips with his own in a brief kiss, leaning his forehead onto hers, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
5. The Time At The Feast
Arthur sat next to his father, watching Gwen as she made her rounds about the table filling the Nobles’ goblets. As she reached through one gap between two of the Ladies of court, one of them turned so sharply they knocked the jug out of her hand and the red liquid spilled all over the table, dribbling onto the floor and the lap of the lady who’d knocked.
“You insolent girl, what do you think you’re playing at?” she scolded as the woman next to her grabbed one of the fabric napkins and started to dab at the woman’s skirt.
“So sorry, my lady,” Gwen started, placing the jug on the table, grabbing another napkin and stopping the drip from the table to her skirt.
“I don’t care how sorry you are,” the lady snapped, “You should be fired for a mistake like that.”
“Now hold on a minute,” Arthur found himself speaking out before Gwen could defend herself. He saw his father adjust himself in his seat looking from Arthur to the maidservant, “Guinevere isn’t to blame for this.”
“And who do you suppose is, my lord,” her false sense of loyalty betrayed by the glare in her eyes.
“You,” the woman gasped in a disgruntled shock, “You are the one not looking what you are doing.”
“My lord-“
“No, Guinevere, I will not let them blame you for something that isn’t your fault.”
“I do not want to cause an argument, my lord.”
“Who’s causing an argument? Merely stating facts,” he looked from Gwen down to the lady in question and glared at her before turning his attention back to his plate.
Gwen stood awkwardly, not knowing how to respond she picked up the now empty jug and disappeared down the servants’ corridor to the kitchens.
Uther looked at him son for a moment, reasoning his outburst as a moment of passion for his people, and carried on eating his dinner.
The woman sat in a silent abashed state, red tinge to her cheeks from embarrassment.
Arthur smirked to himself, and secretly watched as Gwen retreated.
Author: mydoctortennant
Pairing/s: Arthur/Gwen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: not mine etc etc
Dedication: For ladyofflower7
Summary: Sometimes they forget just who they are and where they are...
my merlin prompt table
1. The Time After The Jousting Tournament
The tournament had ended and with it bought the end of Arthur’s jaunt staying in Gwen’s house. If he was honest it hadn’t been what he had been expecting. Then again, he’d never expected that his stay would end in him kissing her. Nor would he expect himself to turn into a grinning idiot about it.
He caught her eye across the Great Hall whilst he was addressing his father. It only made him smile wider when Gwen blushed and looked to the floor. The only problem was, he knew this could never continue pass the stolen looks and the memories of the last few days.
Gwen had made him feel more human that he’d felt in his entire life. Merely having her stand up to him and telling him when he was wrong made him feel more accepted, even if half the time she was chastising him.
For a moment though, he let his mind wonder - as her eyes caught with his - and he thought about what if that was his life. What if he was a peasant and he and Gwen lived together in her modest house. He didn’t have a chance to get ahead of himself; his father was asking him questions.
It made him remember himself, remember Gwen and her position. Then he remembered where he was and he collected himself.
2. The Time Around the Fire
It wasn’t how he’d envisaged it at all, he’d imagined a loving embrace as he freed her from the cell. Perhaps a kiss, and Merlin standing awkwardly behind them, trying not to interrupt. Then guards approaching and him having to, only for Arthur to sigh at him, and grab her hand and run.
It hadn’t gone like that at all, and now he was forced to endure his presence after he’d been the Knight in shining armour. Arthur couldn’t even look at her without feeling like he’d been kicked rather hard in the gut and then some. He couldn’t help to look at her, but there was no love in her look now, she scowled at him then looked at the fire.
He’d manage to screw up in a matter of seconds.
The only good thing to come from it, was the fact that he’d seen the look on Arthur’s face, and left without a word to her.
Even if she was in a mood with him, at least it put the competition out of the running.
3. The Time In The Great Hall
Blood, sweat and tears. All could be seen and smelt in the Great Hall as it doubled as a hospital. Gaius treating those he could and Gwen those he couldn’t. They’d needed water and in going to get some from the well both Gwen and Arthur had faced the Dragon, injuring him in its wake.
“You’ll have to take off your armour,” Gwen said, Arthur cleared his throat and smirked. Gwen rolled her eyes and reached for the first bucket.
“One would hope you don’t go about taking off all Knight’s armour.”
“Only those that save my life,” Arthur smiled. Even in the face of so much terror she made him feel better.
Once his clothing was gone from his top half Gwen set about gently dabbing his wound. It would have to be thoroughly cleaned or they risked infection. She set about her work in a delicate manner. She could feel Arthur’s gaze on her.
“You shouldn’t have risked your life.”
“I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you,” after a short delay she smiled up at him. Their eyes meeting in one of those loving glances they shot at each other whenever they were within a close proximity of each other.
He took her hand, stopping her motions and placing her hand on his heart. She could feel the erratic beat of the muscle beating her fingertips.
Neither of them noticed the old man looking at them from across the room, knowing smile on his face.
4. The Time In The Courtyard
He had never expected to return from his excursion against the dragon. He’d been expecting himself to be killed in battle. He’d never said goodbye, she’d been too busy and he didn’t think he could manage it. He’d never want to leave.
As he strode up the gangway to the castle he noted every detail of his kingdom. Every lick of fire. Every piece of damage. Every part that was still intact. He watched smoke circle into the sky from the dying flames. Listening to the clunk of his boots on the stones beneath his feet.
So distracted he didn’t even notice the running figure headed straight for him until her arms where about his shoulders.
“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered in his ear. His arms around her waist, he smiled into her hair. They had won.
In the middle of the courtyard, a handmaiden was embracing the Crowned Prince of Camelot, and nobody around them batted an eyelid, all too happy to still be alive.
It was only when they reached the quiet that he took her hand and twirled her around to face him, “Guinevere.”
“Arthur,” she smiled. He’d returned to her. After all her wishing and hoping he’d returned relatively unscathed.
A broad smile reached his lips, mirroring the look on her face. He stooped his head catching her lips with his own in a brief kiss, leaning his forehead onto hers, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
5. The Time At The Feast
Arthur sat next to his father, watching Gwen as she made her rounds about the table filling the Nobles’ goblets. As she reached through one gap between two of the Ladies of court, one of them turned so sharply they knocked the jug out of her hand and the red liquid spilled all over the table, dribbling onto the floor and the lap of the lady who’d knocked.
“You insolent girl, what do you think you’re playing at?” she scolded as the woman next to her grabbed one of the fabric napkins and started to dab at the woman’s skirt.
“So sorry, my lady,” Gwen started, placing the jug on the table, grabbing another napkin and stopping the drip from the table to her skirt.
“I don’t care how sorry you are,” the lady snapped, “You should be fired for a mistake like that.”
“Now hold on a minute,” Arthur found himself speaking out before Gwen could defend herself. He saw his father adjust himself in his seat looking from Arthur to the maidservant, “Guinevere isn’t to blame for this.”
“And who do you suppose is, my lord,” her false sense of loyalty betrayed by the glare in her eyes.
“You,” the woman gasped in a disgruntled shock, “You are the one not looking what you are doing.”
“My lord-“
“No, Guinevere, I will not let them blame you for something that isn’t your fault.”
“I do not want to cause an argument, my lord.”
“Who’s causing an argument? Merely stating facts,” he looked from Gwen down to the lady in question and glared at her before turning his attention back to his plate.
Gwen stood awkwardly, not knowing how to respond she picked up the now empty jug and disappeared down the servants’ corridor to the kitchens.
Uther looked at him son for a moment, reasoning his outburst as a moment of passion for his people, and carried on eating his dinner.
The woman sat in a silent abashed state, red tinge to her cheeks from embarrassment.
Arthur smirked to himself, and secretly watched as Gwen retreated.