Merlin: Desperate Measures
Title: Desperate Measures (Merlin)
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Guinevere, Merlin, Gaius, Knights & maybe Morgana
Warnings: Spoilers for episodes 5x06, 5x07, 5x08, and 5x09
Summary: Guinevere fears that Morgana's enchantment has affected her fertility. So she considers magic to help her produce an heir. Meanwhile, Arthur's investigation into sorcery will lead him to question his greatest ally. Takes place six months after the events of "With All My Heart." Spoilers: 5x06, 5x07, 5x08, and 5x09.
Part One
Six months had passed since Arthur's love freed Guinevere from the dark, ruthless hold of Morgana's witchcraft. In the beginning, Guinevere greeted the morning in a cold sweat with the rapid pounding of her heart echoing inside her ear drums. Only the firm, yet gentle hold of Arthur's arms around her could still her disquiet. The low rumble of her name against her ear soothed her until the trembles subsided. It amazed her how he always knew what to do and what to say. Being left a weak, sniveling woman shamed her greatly, but he didn't seem to mind. In response, he loved her more. Fiercely. Tenderly.
She hitched a breath as she thought of him. Unwilling to allow another tear to fall, she pressed her fingers to the corner of her eyes. Of course, that was the moment he would chose to seek her out.
"Guinevere?"
Although his footsteps were soft, she felt the vibrations as he hurried across the stone floor. In the next instant, his strong hands held fast to her shoulders and turned her to face him. Questioning blue eyes bored into hers. His full lips parted, but she spoke first.
"I'm fine, Arthur."
"I know you are," he said, a slight frown belying his words.
"The council is over?"
He shrugged. "Yes."
"So soon? You did not have to end it to check on me," she said. "Camelot comes first-"
"Never." He released her shoulders to take her hand. "Merlin is preparing a basket for us. We're meeting him outside the citadel."
Memories appeared to her in flashes. She pulled her hand free as she shook her head. Their first outdoor rendezvous ended with Uther discovering them and Guinevere coming close to meeting her fate on a pyre. The last one nearly cost Arthur his life and although Morgana orchestrated Arthur being thrown from the horse and the bandit attack, deep down inside Guinevere harbored twinges of guilt. She looked away from her husband's sympathetic gaze and simply said, "No."
"Yes, Guinevere." He stepped in close. His hands settled at her waist and the scent of him washed over her, filling her senses. Another step brought him closer still. He moved his head so that his lips pressed against her ear. "This is for us. To wipe away the bad memories."
She dug her fingers into his arms. The corded flesh flexed beneath the soft, white fabric of his favorite tunic. "How did you know?"
"I am not immune to your suffering." He kissed her forehead. "Nothing has ever had the power to come between us. Nothing ever will. Trust me. Come with me."
Since the release of the enchantment, she had willingly imprisoned herself inside the castle walls. Just knowing that Morgana had been able to use her and Arthur's great love for one another against them had tortured her soul. With Morgana still out there, she could not be sure that it would not happen again. She would rather die than be used as a pawn against her beloved. They had fought every obstacle to be together. Just the thought that she, Guinevere, would own the hand that rendered him lifeless and Camelot without its King was just too much to bear.
"Guinevere?"
A faint smile played at her mouth. His tone was both needy and demanding. Nerve endings pulsed without warning. Wanton images hovered at the back of her mind. She swallowed hard as she met his stare. A wicked gleam greeted her as well as a plea for her to honor his request.
"Yes, Arthur."
A broad smile was her reward followed by a brief pass of his lips on hers. Then as if he dare not waste a moment longer, he wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and ushered her from their chambers. Once outside, the people greeted her with smiles and waves. The ride through the town was a lesson in humility. Guinevere had no idea how much she had missed the townspeople or they her. So many times Merlin or Gaius would mention an acquaintance from the lower town, but she would only dimly reply. Fear that everyone knew of her role in the attacks on Arthur's life had made her ashamed. Despite her dearest friends' protests to the contrary, she feared facing the masses just as much as becoming Morgana's pawn again.
Finally, the horses' gallops brought them onto the wooded trail. One glance at her husband's smirking face and Guinevere could not help but laugh.
"You did that on purpose."
"What?"
"You had them…greet me-"
"No," he said, quickly sobering, "I did not. True, we could have taken a different path, and I chose the one through town. However, the people's love and respect for you is true. They did not do that for me."
"Oh, Arthur."
He smiled. "They have missed you."
"I have been negligent…"
"Care has been taken," he said, "I assure you, but they miss you. Your smile and your attention. You know each of them by name, and as much as I try, my love, I do not."
She sensed the heat rushing into her cheeks. "I do not know everyone's name."
Arthur grinned. "Maybe I exaggerate a bit."
"A bit?"
They both laughed. "Will you concede that you know most of them?"
She nodded.
"This is the Camelot you dreamed of, isn't it?" he asked. "We're at peace. The people are not afraid. They're protected and prosperous. And you and I…we're fine, Guinevere."
His calm assurance started to break through. She allowed herself to enjoy the ride. A deep breath filled her with the riches of Mother Nature. The smell of fresh grass and blooming flowers made her smile. The warmth of the sun touched her face and she welcomed it. Chirping birds reminded her of the music played at their wedding. This was lovely.
After a while, Arthur guided them into a cove of overhanging branches. He hopped from his horse, tied it to a tree and came to her. Once she was safely on the ground, she took note of their surroundings.
"Oh my," she murmured, clutching Arthur's arm.
"It's breathtaking, isn't it?"
A waterfall provided a backdrop to a fantastic wall of flowers and greenery. Trees reached to the sky and still managed to allow the sun's light to filter through. A mouth-watering buffet of cheeses, bread, and fruit lay ready for consumption on a blanket. A couple of bottles of wine stood between two shiny, silver goblets. Merlin bit back a smile as he adjusted some pillows and set another blanket just so.
"Hello, Merlin."
"Guinevere, you look lovely." He went to her and kissed her on the cheek. When Arthur began to grumble, Merlin pulled away. "I hope you find everything to your liking."
"I'm sure I will."
She fought the urge to apologize to Merlin. Again. Her apologies made him uncomfortable and angered Arthur, but she didn't know what else to do. Accusing him of harming Arthur could have gotten him executed. Enough time had not passed for her to forgive herself for hurting the ones closest to her heart.
"Well, I'm off," Merlin said, unable to hold back his grin. "Unless you need me…"
"We don't," Arthur snapped. His hand rested on his sword for emphasis. "Leave us. Now."
"Yes, indeed, Sire."
Merlin's laughter echoed as he rode away. Guinevere barely had time to acknowledge it. Arthur had her settled on the blanket with a plate of delights in her hand before she could catch her breath. Then, he removed the plate and replaced it with a full goblet. His twinkling blue eyes met hers over the rim as he touched his goblet to hers.
"To us. To the past. To the present. To our future. To our love."
Guinevere could not help but to really focus on Arthur as he spoke. His commanding presence demanded it. She could never say that his love wavered. He pulled her through the darkness. Morgana never counted on their love being that strong. For months now, Guinevere had lingered in the shadows. With the spell broken, the remnants of fear remained. Icy, cold pricks of doubt poked her at the oddest moments. What if Morgana had something far worse planned? But truly, what could be worse than Arthur's death at Guinevere's hand?
Yet, Arthur's steadiness in his care of Guinevere could not be rivaled. He had proven himself true to Camelot and to her. She could no longer deny herself the fullness of his love and protection. She had to accept it. She had to believe what she had never doubted before-that she was worthy.
"To our love," she repeated.
AG*AG
Arthur saw the glow return to Guinevere's honey brown eyes and it left him breathless. She had pretended so many times over the months to be whole again that it hurt his heart. Nothing he said was enough. Only in the morning before the sunrise when she woke with a start would she truly allow him to break through her walls of guilt and self-recriminations. Only then could he simply hold her and that was enough for Morgana's treachery to fall away. Day would break and the cycle would repeat. Yet, he never gave up hope.
He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but she was still fragile. He knew about guilt. Far too much. Now that she was coming toward him again, he would not burden her with questions about Morgana's sorcery. Not that he doubted its use in Guinevere's actions. He knew she would never harm him willingly. But he wondered about the methods. Sorcery had caused so much harm in his life. It was time he understood it better in order to defeat it effectively. His father always said that one should know thy enemy.
"Are you here?" she asked with a grape against his mouth.
"Nowhere else I'd rather be." He opened wide to accept her offering.
They teased and flirted with pieces of fruit and bites of cheese. Arthur had missed this playful side of his wife. He groaned at her soft gasp as he smeared the juice of a strawberry across her ripe flesh. The responding moan as he bent to lick then suckle it off was like music to his ears.
In seconds, she was underneath him. Teasing bites made her quiver. Flirtatious whispers of what he would do to her had her crying out his name. He didn't want their union to be hurried. She responded best to the slower flame. But it had been so long since she had truly been responsive. Since the fingers digging into his back were out of need and not out of duty.
"Arthur…"
The rest of her plea was devoured by his mouth. She tasted of succulent fruit and sweet wine. Her tongue sought his in urgency. He surrendered with great honor. A low grunt came from his throat in response to the insistent stroke of her thigh against his manhood. He whipped her skirts up in a frenzy to have better access. The material ripped but he was only dimly aware. When his hand slid along her smooth thigh, nothing else mattered.
The kiss ended amid a flurry of busy hands. Hers attended to the front ties of his trousers while he worked to remove her under garments. He would give anything to have her completely bare beneath him, but he could not wait. Slower flame be damned. He wanted her now.
Slick was the first word that came to mind as tested her readiness. He slipped a second finger inside to be sure. His thumb skimmed her sweet little button as he watched, transfixed at her reaction. The arching back and parted mouth encouraged him to increase him efforts. If their pace was less frenzied, he could indulge his need to taste her nectar, but not this time. Now, he just had to get her there quickly because he did not know how much longer he could wait.
"Ahhh…"
There, he thought. "Right there," he murmured against her throat just before he drove his manhood inside her.
With great effort, Arthur held still. Just long enough for Guinevere to adjust to him. Just long enough for him to reclaim control. Then she grabbed hold of his backside. Her thighs clenched his hips.
"Guinevere," he moaned.
"Please, Arthur."
It pleased him to please her. He lived for it. Wild thrusts slid them across the blanket. His fingers digging into dirt alerted him that they were half on the grass. He didn't care about his attire, but grass stains would cause whispers and stares for his beloved. So he rolled over onto his back. Her barely constrained bosom bounced in front of his face. His thrusting increased as he palmed her breasts and squeezed. A nipple popped free and he pounced.
Their lovemaking had not been so crazed since the early days of their marriage. Sweat trickled down Arthur's back. He'd held himself off several times, but he knew he couldn't last much longer. With a final swipe of his tongue against her hard little bud, he bit down gently and succumbed to his release. Sliding his hand under the layers of fabric, he stroked Guinevere to completion as she rode out the remnants of release.
When their breathing returned to normal and their clothing had been righted, he continued to hold her close in his arms. A part of him feared this was yet another dream. He had had so many. He just needed her back. His Guinevere.
"Are you asleep?" she asked.
"No." He slid his hand along her arm before linking their hands. "Not yet."
"This has been quite an outing."
He kissed her forehead. "Yes, it has."
"Thank you." She rested her chin on his forehead to look at him.
The sun was beginning to make its descent, but he still managed to read her eyes. They were shiny with unshed tears. If he saw gratitude, he'd die. He blinked to be sure, but all he saw was love.
"It was my pleasure."
A giggle passed her lips. Then she became serious. "I love you, Arthur Pendragon, with all my heart."
"As I do you, Guinevere Pendragon, forever and always."
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Guinevere, Merlin, Gaius, Knights & maybe Morgana
Warnings: Spoilers for episodes 5x06, 5x07, 5x08, and 5x09
Summary: Guinevere fears that Morgana's enchantment has affected her fertility. So she considers magic to help her produce an heir. Meanwhile, Arthur's investigation into sorcery will lead him to question his greatest ally. Takes place six months after the events of "With All My Heart." Spoilers: 5x06, 5x07, 5x08, and 5x09.
Part One
Six months had passed since Arthur's love freed Guinevere from the dark, ruthless hold of Morgana's witchcraft. In the beginning, Guinevere greeted the morning in a cold sweat with the rapid pounding of her heart echoing inside her ear drums. Only the firm, yet gentle hold of Arthur's arms around her could still her disquiet. The low rumble of her name against her ear soothed her until the trembles subsided. It amazed her how he always knew what to do and what to say. Being left a weak, sniveling woman shamed her greatly, but he didn't seem to mind. In response, he loved her more. Fiercely. Tenderly.
She hitched a breath as she thought of him. Unwilling to allow another tear to fall, she pressed her fingers to the corner of her eyes. Of course, that was the moment he would chose to seek her out.
"Guinevere?"
Although his footsteps were soft, she felt the vibrations as he hurried across the stone floor. In the next instant, his strong hands held fast to her shoulders and turned her to face him. Questioning blue eyes bored into hers. His full lips parted, but she spoke first.
"I'm fine, Arthur."
"I know you are," he said, a slight frown belying his words.
"The council is over?"
He shrugged. "Yes."
"So soon? You did not have to end it to check on me," she said. "Camelot comes first-"
"Never." He released her shoulders to take her hand. "Merlin is preparing a basket for us. We're meeting him outside the citadel."
Memories appeared to her in flashes. She pulled her hand free as she shook her head. Their first outdoor rendezvous ended with Uther discovering them and Guinevere coming close to meeting her fate on a pyre. The last one nearly cost Arthur his life and although Morgana orchestrated Arthur being thrown from the horse and the bandit attack, deep down inside Guinevere harbored twinges of guilt. She looked away from her husband's sympathetic gaze and simply said, "No."
"Yes, Guinevere." He stepped in close. His hands settled at her waist and the scent of him washed over her, filling her senses. Another step brought him closer still. He moved his head so that his lips pressed against her ear. "This is for us. To wipe away the bad memories."
She dug her fingers into his arms. The corded flesh flexed beneath the soft, white fabric of his favorite tunic. "How did you know?"
"I am not immune to your suffering." He kissed her forehead. "Nothing has ever had the power to come between us. Nothing ever will. Trust me. Come with me."
Since the release of the enchantment, she had willingly imprisoned herself inside the castle walls. Just knowing that Morgana had been able to use her and Arthur's great love for one another against them had tortured her soul. With Morgana still out there, she could not be sure that it would not happen again. She would rather die than be used as a pawn against her beloved. They had fought every obstacle to be together. Just the thought that she, Guinevere, would own the hand that rendered him lifeless and Camelot without its King was just too much to bear.
"Guinevere?"
A faint smile played at her mouth. His tone was both needy and demanding. Nerve endings pulsed without warning. Wanton images hovered at the back of her mind. She swallowed hard as she met his stare. A wicked gleam greeted her as well as a plea for her to honor his request.
"Yes, Arthur."
A broad smile was her reward followed by a brief pass of his lips on hers. Then as if he dare not waste a moment longer, he wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and ushered her from their chambers. Once outside, the people greeted her with smiles and waves. The ride through the town was a lesson in humility. Guinevere had no idea how much she had missed the townspeople or they her. So many times Merlin or Gaius would mention an acquaintance from the lower town, but she would only dimly reply. Fear that everyone knew of her role in the attacks on Arthur's life had made her ashamed. Despite her dearest friends' protests to the contrary, she feared facing the masses just as much as becoming Morgana's pawn again.
Finally, the horses' gallops brought them onto the wooded trail. One glance at her husband's smirking face and Guinevere could not help but laugh.
"You did that on purpose."
"What?"
"You had them…greet me-"
"No," he said, quickly sobering, "I did not. True, we could have taken a different path, and I chose the one through town. However, the people's love and respect for you is true. They did not do that for me."
"Oh, Arthur."
He smiled. "They have missed you."
"I have been negligent…"
"Care has been taken," he said, "I assure you, but they miss you. Your smile and your attention. You know each of them by name, and as much as I try, my love, I do not."
She sensed the heat rushing into her cheeks. "I do not know everyone's name."
Arthur grinned. "Maybe I exaggerate a bit."
"A bit?"
They both laughed. "Will you concede that you know most of them?"
She nodded.
"This is the Camelot you dreamed of, isn't it?" he asked. "We're at peace. The people are not afraid. They're protected and prosperous. And you and I…we're fine, Guinevere."
His calm assurance started to break through. She allowed herself to enjoy the ride. A deep breath filled her with the riches of Mother Nature. The smell of fresh grass and blooming flowers made her smile. The warmth of the sun touched her face and she welcomed it. Chirping birds reminded her of the music played at their wedding. This was lovely.
After a while, Arthur guided them into a cove of overhanging branches. He hopped from his horse, tied it to a tree and came to her. Once she was safely on the ground, she took note of their surroundings.
"Oh my," she murmured, clutching Arthur's arm.
"It's breathtaking, isn't it?"
A waterfall provided a backdrop to a fantastic wall of flowers and greenery. Trees reached to the sky and still managed to allow the sun's light to filter through. A mouth-watering buffet of cheeses, bread, and fruit lay ready for consumption on a blanket. A couple of bottles of wine stood between two shiny, silver goblets. Merlin bit back a smile as he adjusted some pillows and set another blanket just so.
"Hello, Merlin."
"Guinevere, you look lovely." He went to her and kissed her on the cheek. When Arthur began to grumble, Merlin pulled away. "I hope you find everything to your liking."
"I'm sure I will."
She fought the urge to apologize to Merlin. Again. Her apologies made him uncomfortable and angered Arthur, but she didn't know what else to do. Accusing him of harming Arthur could have gotten him executed. Enough time had not passed for her to forgive herself for hurting the ones closest to her heart.
"Well, I'm off," Merlin said, unable to hold back his grin. "Unless you need me…"
"We don't," Arthur snapped. His hand rested on his sword for emphasis. "Leave us. Now."
"Yes, indeed, Sire."
Merlin's laughter echoed as he rode away. Guinevere barely had time to acknowledge it. Arthur had her settled on the blanket with a plate of delights in her hand before she could catch her breath. Then, he removed the plate and replaced it with a full goblet. His twinkling blue eyes met hers over the rim as he touched his goblet to hers.
"To us. To the past. To the present. To our future. To our love."
Guinevere could not help but to really focus on Arthur as he spoke. His commanding presence demanded it. She could never say that his love wavered. He pulled her through the darkness. Morgana never counted on their love being that strong. For months now, Guinevere had lingered in the shadows. With the spell broken, the remnants of fear remained. Icy, cold pricks of doubt poked her at the oddest moments. What if Morgana had something far worse planned? But truly, what could be worse than Arthur's death at Guinevere's hand?
Yet, Arthur's steadiness in his care of Guinevere could not be rivaled. He had proven himself true to Camelot and to her. She could no longer deny herself the fullness of his love and protection. She had to accept it. She had to believe what she had never doubted before-that she was worthy.
"To our love," she repeated.
AG*AG
Arthur saw the glow return to Guinevere's honey brown eyes and it left him breathless. She had pretended so many times over the months to be whole again that it hurt his heart. Nothing he said was enough. Only in the morning before the sunrise when she woke with a start would she truly allow him to break through her walls of guilt and self-recriminations. Only then could he simply hold her and that was enough for Morgana's treachery to fall away. Day would break and the cycle would repeat. Yet, he never gave up hope.
He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but she was still fragile. He knew about guilt. Far too much. Now that she was coming toward him again, he would not burden her with questions about Morgana's sorcery. Not that he doubted its use in Guinevere's actions. He knew she would never harm him willingly. But he wondered about the methods. Sorcery had caused so much harm in his life. It was time he understood it better in order to defeat it effectively. His father always said that one should know thy enemy.
"Are you here?" she asked with a grape against his mouth.
"Nowhere else I'd rather be." He opened wide to accept her offering.
They teased and flirted with pieces of fruit and bites of cheese. Arthur had missed this playful side of his wife. He groaned at her soft gasp as he smeared the juice of a strawberry across her ripe flesh. The responding moan as he bent to lick then suckle it off was like music to his ears.
In seconds, she was underneath him. Teasing bites made her quiver. Flirtatious whispers of what he would do to her had her crying out his name. He didn't want their union to be hurried. She responded best to the slower flame. But it had been so long since she had truly been responsive. Since the fingers digging into his back were out of need and not out of duty.
"Arthur…"
The rest of her plea was devoured by his mouth. She tasted of succulent fruit and sweet wine. Her tongue sought his in urgency. He surrendered with great honor. A low grunt came from his throat in response to the insistent stroke of her thigh against his manhood. He whipped her skirts up in a frenzy to have better access. The material ripped but he was only dimly aware. When his hand slid along her smooth thigh, nothing else mattered.
The kiss ended amid a flurry of busy hands. Hers attended to the front ties of his trousers while he worked to remove her under garments. He would give anything to have her completely bare beneath him, but he could not wait. Slower flame be damned. He wanted her now.
Slick was the first word that came to mind as tested her readiness. He slipped a second finger inside to be sure. His thumb skimmed her sweet little button as he watched, transfixed at her reaction. The arching back and parted mouth encouraged him to increase him efforts. If their pace was less frenzied, he could indulge his need to taste her nectar, but not this time. Now, he just had to get her there quickly because he did not know how much longer he could wait.
"Ahhh…"
There, he thought. "Right there," he murmured against her throat just before he drove his manhood inside her.
With great effort, Arthur held still. Just long enough for Guinevere to adjust to him. Just long enough for him to reclaim control. Then she grabbed hold of his backside. Her thighs clenched his hips.
"Guinevere," he moaned.
"Please, Arthur."
It pleased him to please her. He lived for it. Wild thrusts slid them across the blanket. His fingers digging into dirt alerted him that they were half on the grass. He didn't care about his attire, but grass stains would cause whispers and stares for his beloved. So he rolled over onto his back. Her barely constrained bosom bounced in front of his face. His thrusting increased as he palmed her breasts and squeezed. A nipple popped free and he pounced.
Their lovemaking had not been so crazed since the early days of their marriage. Sweat trickled down Arthur's back. He'd held himself off several times, but he knew he couldn't last much longer. With a final swipe of his tongue against her hard little bud, he bit down gently and succumbed to his release. Sliding his hand under the layers of fabric, he stroked Guinevere to completion as she rode out the remnants of release.
When their breathing returned to normal and their clothing had been righted, he continued to hold her close in his arms. A part of him feared this was yet another dream. He had had so many. He just needed her back. His Guinevere.
"Are you asleep?" she asked.
"No." He slid his hand along her arm before linking their hands. "Not yet."
"This has been quite an outing."
He kissed her forehead. "Yes, it has."
"Thank you." She rested her chin on his forehead to look at him.
The sun was beginning to make its descent, but he still managed to read her eyes. They were shiny with unshed tears. If he saw gratitude, he'd die. He blinked to be sure, but all he saw was love.
"It was my pleasure."
A giggle passed her lips. Then she became serious. "I love you, Arthur Pendragon, with all my heart."
"As I do you, Guinevere Pendragon, forever and always."