FIC: The Blacksmith's Son (Arthur/Gwen, PG, 11/12) Part II
The Blacksmith’s Son- Chapter Eleven Part II
Part I here
Gwen relaxes in the bathtub of hot water and scented oils. It’s been a long time since she’s had a warm bath and longer still since she’s been able to relax, and she closes her eyes, trying to enjoy it as much as she can. The hot water washes away the dirt and the lavender and jasmine oils help relieve the tension that seems to be stemming from every point in her body. When she feels suitably more relaxed, Gwen opens her eyes only to find two pairs of blue eyes staring at her from the rim of the other end of the bathtub.
She lets out a startled gasp and this is accompanied by the sound of the two figures giggling. She watches in bemusement as the two tiny figures move towards her, and they come to stand beside her head.
She tilts her face to look at them properly, and sees two little girls looking at her expectantly. They both have blonde hair and familiar-looking eyes, and she knows without a doubt that they are related to Arthur.
“Hello,” she greets.
“Hello,” they chorus.
“We’ve brought you a dress,” one of them says, and together they both hold up a dress that’s bigger than the two of them combined.
She resists the urge to laugh. “Why thank you, that’s very kind.”
“It’s our mother’s,” says one.
“It is,” the other agrees.
“Well then, I’ll make sure that I take good care of it.”
They continue to stare at her in intrigue.
One of them tilts her head to the side. “Is it true that you’re a princess?” she inquires.
“I am,” she confirms. “I’m the Princess of Camelot.”
“The Princess of Cram-alot,” the other girl echoes. “We’re princesses too.”
“I can tell,” Gwen muses. “You’re both beautiful and wonderful like any princess is.”
They both offer her toothy grins and one comes to lean on the edge of the tub.
“Do you know our cousin, Arthur?” she demands. “He’s from Cram-alot as well.”
She beams at the girl. “I know him very well,” she replies.
The other girl comes to lean on the bathtub too. “We like Arthur,” she tells Gwen. “He teaches us how to ride a horse.”
“And,” the other one says in conspiring tones, “when Father isn’t around, he teaches us how to sword-fight.”
“With wooden swords,” the other supplies.
“Well that’s good,” she tells them. “He’s a very good teacher.”
The one closest to her wrinkles her nose. “He’s not that good,” she muses. “We beat him all the time.”
“Well, maybe you’re too good.”
The girl considers this and nods in agreement.
“Princess, what is your name?” the other asks.
“My name is Guinevere.”
“Gwen-ver,” the girl says with a nod.
“And what’s yours?”
“Elaine,” she replies, almost shyly.
“My name is Anna,” the other informs her.
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Elaine and Anna.”
“We have to go now,” Anna tells her.
Gwen nods and smiles at them. “See you later, girls.”
“Bye Gwen-ver!” they chorus as they run out.
Gwen watches them go and suppresses the urge to giggle at the strange encounter. Instead, she sinks down into the bathtub, completely submerging herself in water.
***
A couple of hours later, Gwen is out of the bathtub, relaxed and most importantly, she feels clean. The dress she wears is a little too big for her, but she tries to make the most of it. She looks into the dresser mirror in her room, and taking a comb beside her, she brushes out her hair and carefully compiles it on top of her head, securing it with pins. Placing the comb down on the dresser, she takes a good look at her reflection.
The woman reflecting back at her is a ghost of her former self. She’s gaunt and there’s a certain kind of sadness in her eyes that doesn’t shift no matter which way she tilts her head. The aquamarine colour of her dress does its best to highlight her features and make her look feminine, but with only Arthur’s necklace as an accessory, she doesn’t feel particularly extraordinary. She’s not usually overly concerned about her appearance, and yet looking presentable in front of Arthur all of a sudden seems incredibly important to her, regardless of whether he’s seen her many times looking a state.
There’s a knock on her door and she looks up to see a servant waiting to take her to dinner. Gwen takes a deep breath, smiling, as she proceeds to follow the servant. King Tristan meets her in the hallway and introduces himself to her. She’s met him only once before and the memory she has of him seems completely different to that of the pleasant and regal man before her. He speaks of his concern for Camelot and the worry he has for her father, whom apparently is a good friend of his. King Tristan assures her that Lyonesse will do all they can to help, and he then leads her into the dining hall.
Gwen takes her seat at the end of the table and is glad to find Merlin sitting opposite her. At the head of the table, the king goes to sit, with his wife on one side of him and a teenage girl on the other, who Gwen assumes is the king’s eldest daughter. The little girls that she met earlier are nowhere to be found, and Gwen guesses that they, along with their baby brother, are already tucked up in bed. Beside the girl, sits Arthur and as soon as he sees her he offers her a smile. Tentatively, she offers one back.
The food that is served is an array of extravagant dishes, all of which Gwen hasn’t had in a long time. Upon seeing the dishes, she and Merlin exchange delighted grins. It’s been so long since either of them have had something that isn’t stale or revolting to eat, that they have to remember to eat slowly. Gwen savours each bite in case it’s another long while until she eats like this again. In the midst of eating, she lifts up her head only to find Arthur looking at her keenly and his cool gaze on her makes her blush. Immediately, she drops her head back down.
After a while she gathers the courage to look at him again. He’s talking to a knight beside him and it’s a while before his gaze strays towards her. When he sees her looking at him, he raises his eyebrows as if to ask how everything is. She nods enthusiastically and he beams; something which causes her heart to jolt.
She turns her attention back to Merlin, who is looking at her, knowingly. The two of them laugh and finish their meal, and Gwen takes this time to ask Merlin about his life. The tales he tells her send her into hysterics, and after a while she looks up at the other end of the table, hoping that she isn’t causing too much of a commotion.
Instead she finds Arthur playfully teasing his cousin and immersed in deep conversation with his wonderful uncle and aunt.
Realisation hits her then.
He’s happy here, she thinks. This is where he belongs.
Lyonesse is an amazing kingdom, with an amazing king. Arthur has a wonderful family and a fantastic job.
Gwen’s suddenly overwhelmed with sadness when it dawns on her that Arthur has no need to ever come back home to Camelot.
Feeling sick, Gwen stands up. “If you’ll excuse me,” she says to the people around her, “I need to get some fresh air.”
Merlin gives her a look of concern, but she doesn’t see it as she hurries out of the room.
She wanders around the castle aimlessly, until she finds herself an exit that leads to the gardens. She steps out onto a patio. There’s a low wall that separates it from the rest of the garden, and Gwen goes to sit on it.
It’s cold outside but she doesn’t care. Instead she looks up at the stars shining down on her, and tries to place herself amongst them.
Disappointment wells up in her so strongly, that it shines like its very own star. She’s overcome with the need to be incredibly selfish and to have him as her own. It doesn’t matter whether he’s a knight or a blacksmith’s son, so long as he’s hers. But she can hardly take him from this place he loves. He’s happier than she’s ever seen him, and she would be foolish to think that she could rival that.
Yet in his absence, she spent so much time wishing for his return. She had never wished for something so much; never desired something so deeply. When she dreamt of seeing him again, it never occurred to her that things could be this complex. She never imagined that there would be that awkwardness that accompanies not seeing someone in so long or the realisation that they’ve thrived in her absence.
A hand to her cheek brings away dampness and she realises that she’s been crying. She mops the rest of her tears away and lifts her chin up higher; trying to prevent more from falling.
“Gwen?” a voice calls out from behind her.
She turns to see Arthur in the doorway and she stands to face him.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he tells her softly. “What are you doing out here?”
“I er... just needed some fresh air,” she tells him.
He nods, although he still looks at her probingly.
She goes back to sitting on the wall and he comes to sit by her.
Involuntarily, she lets out a shiver.
“Here,” Arthur says, immediately unclasping his cape.
“Oh-,” she says, about to protest, but he wraps it around her.
Immediately, she draws the two ends together, hugging it close to her. The scent of him lingers on it, and she breathes it in.
She smiles at him. “Still as gallant as ever,” she muses. “Some things never change.”
He smiles in return and his gaze lowers before lifting back up again. “I know I’m not exactly the same person I was when I left Camelot.”
“I guess it would be foolish of me to think you would be,” Gwen decides. “And besides, I’m not exactly the same person either.”
“Well then, there’s only one thing we can do to rectify this.”
She looks at him in question. “What?”
“We need to reintroduce ourselves to one another.”
She raises an eyebrow and Arthur raises his, but his request immediately shatters the awkwardness hanging in the air.
He stands up and outstretches his hand to her. “I am Arthur,” he says to her, and just as she thinks he’s finished, he carries on. “Son of Uther, nephew of Tristan, knight of Lyonesse...friend of Merlin.”
Gwen laughs despite herself and standing up, she takes his hand. “I am Guinevere, daughter of Thomas, Princess of Camelot...also friend of Merlin.”
Arthur brings her hand to his lips and places a kiss there. She smiles at him, finding his gesture incredibly endearing.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he informs her.
“The pleasure is all mine,” she replies.
She looks up at him, admiring the dancing light in his eyes and it feels her with joy. This is the Arthur that she recognises; with that smile and that all encompassing warmth of his. And it occurs to her that even though his status has been elevated, he still remains grounded and she admires him all the more for it. Somehow, it relieves her to know that not all knights become like Lancelot- as if Arthur ever would.
He keeps a hold of her hand and she watches as his expression sobers. For a moment, the two of them stand there, simply looking at one another; every moment that they have ever shared flashes between the two of them, and the question of what’s to come surrounds them.
“The last time I saw you-,” Gwen begins, and then immediately stops. The last time she saw him, she’d been set to marry Lancelot and he had declared his love for her out of the blue; leaving her with a parting kiss and feelings she didn’t realise she had until too late. “I’ve missed you,” she says instead, her voice wistful and melodic.
“I’ve missed you too,” he replies, voice full of honesty.
She gives a tiny nod in acknowledgement and then says, “I met your cousins today.”
Grinning he responds, “And I bet they snuck up on you just like they did to me the first time I met them.”
She laughs. “As a matter of fact they did, whilst I was having a bath.”
He rolls his eyes. “They have no shame.”
“But you’re fond of them,” she adds.
She watches his eyes light up. “Very. Before, it was just my father and me. And now I have this family who have become a big part of my life.”
“I’m so glad that you’re happy here.” She means every word she says, but the contrast to what she’s had to face and the struggles she’s endured hangs in the air.
Immediately, guilt etches on his face. “I wish that-,” he begins awkwardly, and then stops when he realises he doesn’t quite know what he wishes. He wishes that he could erase the pain of her burdens, so that all the painful events of the last year never happened. He wishes that he hadn’t made the decision to leave her, if only to spare her the heartbreak that followed. “I wished that things turned out better for you,” he finally says.
“The last year has been incredibly hard,” she admits. “But I’m better for it. I’ve had to stand on my own two feet and do things with courage and a resilience I never knew I had.” A thought strikes her then. “I was going to marry Lancelot!” she declares, and it occurs to her how ridiculous that seems to her now.
Arthur smiles, but this instantly drops. “I should have been there for when you didn’t.”
Subconsciously, she moves her hand so that her fingers intertwine with his. “As much as I would have loved that, your life in Camelot would have paled in comparison to your life here. When I see what you have here and what you’ve worked so hard to achieve, there’s no way I would be able to deny you that.”
A year ago, he would have quite easily been able to drop everything just to be at her side. But now that Lyonesse is such an integral part of his life, it seems a lot harder to say. “You’re the most important thing to me,” he tells her instead.
“And you are to me,” she says. “But tomorrow we will head for Camelot and face the troubles there. But what about afterwards, what will happen then? I must look after Camelot and your place is here, without a doubt. But I don’t want to let you go.”
He watches as her eyes fill with despair.
Truth be told, Arthur hadn’t given much thought to that. A day ago, Gwen was only but a dream, and other than imagining being her convenient knight in shining armour, he’d never given much thought to what would happen if he really did see her again.
He doesn’t have the right answer to say to her and there’s no easy solution for them. So instead, he lifts her hand to his lips. Through hooded eyes, he watches her as he places a kiss on each of her knuckles. The despair leaves her eyes and she smiles at him. Then slowly, he draws her closer, so she’s flush against him.
She draws in a breath when his lips find hers; the mere sensation causing a mini-explosion in every single nerve cell. Her heart sings in jubilation as his lips move against hers, savouring his every touch, and her body finally feels like it’s waking up from the daze it has been in since the moment he walked away.
What he can’t say for certain in words, he puts behind this kiss.
And to her, it sounds an awfully lot like a promise.
***
A/N: The final chapter might take longer for me to do, so bear with me. Comments welcome as always :D
Chapter Twelve