The Wife 8/?
Title: The Wife 8/?
Author:tudor_rose445
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings:Arthur, Guinevere, Morgana, Uther, Merlin, Gaius, Arthur/Guinevere,
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3
Disclaimer: I own nothing. BBC owns "Merlin".
Summary: AU. As the wife of the prince Gwen knows that she is destined to one day rule beside him. Yet the road to the throne will not be simple. Talks of an heir looming above her, the growing worry over Morgana, Uther's ill health, and her confusion over her spouse will not help in the slightest. Yet her trials are nesecary to grow into her title as 'wife' to one of legend's most famous kings. The second entry in "The Once and Future" series.
Chapter 8:
A fight leads to an announcement.
Author's Note:
I'm sorry that this took so long. With school I've been having a hard time to keep up. The next chapter will be poster not this Monday, but the one after. Thanks! And excuse this if it is a little weird, as I edited it myself quick.
“Lady Grisella has been making eyes at your brother since he arrived, milady. Do you think that Lord Leodegrance has noticed? Why, she nearly fell over herself to offer him her handkerchief this morning!”
Gwen smiled and bit back a giggle at Eleanor's question as the younger woman braided the princess' hair.
She lifted her eyes to the mirror where, speaking to the lady's reflection, she answered.
“Elyan is....hesitant when it comes to the opposite gender,” she replied in the nicest way that she could when speaking about her brother's inadequacies with women.
It was expected, as he had little time for females during his time in Cenred's lands. Suddenly her once secluded brother as at the forefront of a handful of lady's thoughts. Her brother was genuinely a handsome man now that he was cleaned and shaved from his tenure. Yet she knew that besides his features and his courteous behavior he would hold quite a bit of influence in the future as the uncle to the next king. Perhaps quite a few of the ladies mentioned where interested in her brother for what he was, yet there were just as many who were attracted by his future land and position.
A 'thud' from her bedchamber caused her to switch the track of her thoughts to her husband, who most likely had been the perpetrator of the noise.
Gwen still could feel that Arthur was upset with her despite him not outright saying anything. She was reminded of the previous spring when she and Merlin had helped Freya, which had earned her Arthur's disappointment. But he simply didn't understand. He, too, had been hurt by what had happened, but he had not been the one to actually hold the child within their body, only to have it wrenched away.
There was still the fact that he...loved her.
The very thought made her uncomfortable, as it called her own feelings toward him into question. She didn't wish for complications between them....wouldn't it be easier if they were simply friends? That way there was no chance for heartache for either of them.
A knock at the chamber door prompted the nearest lady, Catherine, to admit the prince.
Gwen turned upon her stool to face him as the ladies curtseyed.
He waved off the formality, urgency barely hidden in his tone.
“My father wishes to speak to me about a matter...You should go on to bed without me; I'm not entirely sure how long this will take.”
Worry formed a crease in her brow.
“Is everything alright?” she questioned, moving to stand.
“Something has happened,” he explained, unsure exactly of what. “A scouting group approached the gate around twenty minutes ago; it must have something to do with that.”
He gave her a reassuring smile at her concern.
“Go to sleep, Gwen; I'll tell you what happened in the morning.”
With that he left her to her ladies, calling out an order to Merlin to lay out his clothing for the next day.
“You're dismissed for the evening,” she said to the gathered women once Eleanor helped to wrap her in her dressing gown.
“Good night.”
She nodded as they curtsied before her, silent after their own answering 'good night's.
Gwen hid a smile; Eleanor and Catherine seemed to have been biting at the bit to discuss what her husband had been speaking about.
Exiting her dressing room to her bedchamber she settled herself before the fire.
It wasn't as if she could sleep knowing that something concerning the kingdom's safety was happening. Her wild imagination could already picture towns razed and people fleeing in terror. She wrapped the gown closer around herself to ward off the chill of her imaging and stared into the dancing flames.
“My lady?”
She glanced up at the question from the door leading to her sitting room.
Recognizing it to be Merlin she bade him enter after double checking to see that her nightdress was fully covered.
The serving boy entered the room a second later, standing a bit awkwardly in the doorway.
She grinned and gestured to the chair beside her.
“And it's Gwen, Merlin; I thought we had been over this?”
She had taken to having him call her by her first name, instead of his constant 'my lady' or 'your highness'.
After all, had she not committed treason with him? Having done such a thing together warranted at least a first-name basis.
His hesitant look transformed into one of ease as he stepped farther into the room. He took up the chair that she had gestured to after throwing another log upon the fire.
"Do you know what this is all about?" she inquired, trying to hide her disappointment as the young man shook his head.
"I saw the scouts come in before, but I know nothing more than what Arthur told you."
He stared down at his boots for a moment before shooting her a reassuring smile.
"He'll take care of it though, whatever it is."
She nodded, adjusting her hands upon her chair.
Silence hung between the two for a few moments as each stared into the fireplace.
“How are you, if you don't mind me asking?”
She hesitated, unsure of how to answer him.
He took her hesitance for outrage at such a personal question and quickly backtracked.
“Forgive me....I didn't mean....”
She shook her head, pressing a soft smile to her lips although she would have rather not with the subject of their talk.
“It's fine; you're concerned, thank you.”
She stared down at her hands, unable to meet his expectant gaze.
“It's been better.... I just.....”
She shook her head.
“I'm not as upset as I was when it...first happened. I feel like I can go through my routines once more.”
She shrugged and finally chanced a look at him.
“But please...let us talk of something more cheerful...”
He cleared his throat, searching for something happier than their current lives.
“Arthur took the largest flop off of his horse today. If you had seen it....”
He laughed, quickly joined by Gwen's light giggle.
“He deserved it though; he had just teased Sir Bors about some maneuver he made upon the jousting grounds the other day.”
She smiled, reaching her hands forward to let them bask in the warmth of the fire.
“That is one of the best things about you, Merlin; you keep my husband in check. I fear if you did not help me in this he would be unable to fit his head through the door.”
The servant made an exaggerated bow of his head to her.
“It is my pleasure, my lady,” he answered cheekily, glad to hear her giggle in return.
Once she had sobered and returned her now toasty-warm hands to her lap she switched the track of the conversation.
“Have you hear from...her?”
He nodded, knowing exactly who she was talking about : Freya.
“I get letters now and then. The Lady has trained ravens that can carry messages; it's brilliant, really.” He grinned, inching closer to the edge of his chair in his excitement.
“I've only gotten about three since we last saw her; ravens with messages strapped to their legs would cause some attention if they arrived too frequently.”
He shrugged, feeling the tips of his ears warm as he thought of the druid girl.
“She is doing well there and has been accepted by The Lady. She's safe...that is all I can ask for.”
He cleared his throat, obviously feeling uncomfortable expanding further on his thoughts of the girl.
Gwen tactfully avoided prodding him for more information, and instead switched the subject.
“Arthur told me that you requested time to visit with your mother. How is she fairing?”
The young man's earlier shyness melted away as he launched into an explanation of his mother along with the village that he had once called home. She listened attentively, interjecting with tales of her own childhood.
The fire was nearly down to the last bits of wood when Arthur returned.
He seemed surprised to find his wife and manservant in throes of laughter despite the late hour.
“And then-and then,” Merlin continued, bent at the waist from his laughter. He had apparently not noticed that Arthur had returned.
“He said “True, but that isn't my cow!”
Gwen held a fist to her mouth in an unlady-like fashion to stifle her laughter, her eyes dancing with mirth as she took in Arthur's confused expression.
Merlin followed the woman's eye line to see the prince standing in the doorway, sleeping clothes in hand, and quickly stood.
“Sire.”
Arthur removed his coat, draping it over Merlin's vacated chair, before running a hand through his hair.
“I thought I told you to go on to bed?” he asked of her, watching as she shrugged.
His question wasn't a serious inquiry as to why she defied his instruction; if anything, he was just curious as to what kept her awake.
“Since when have I listened to you?” she teased him, watching as he rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, Merlin has been kind enough to sit up with me.”
She stood up from her chair, adjusted her robe, before crossing over to their bed.
“Is all well?” she inquired, fixing her pillow before glancing over at him.
His features hardened as he toyed with a loose thread upon the the sleeve of his tunic, unable to look at her for a moment.
“I'm going to have to ride off with the knight's shortly after dawn. There has been an... incident near our western borders. King Melwas hasn't been keeping an eye on his soldiers as well as he should; there has been raiding on towns near the border. We've intelligence that there will be another raid sometime this week.”
He avoided his wife's look of apprehension as he instructed Merlin to be prepared to leave early that morning, nodded as the man bowed to the pair before leaving, before closing the door. He shucked his clothing off, pulling on his sleeping pants and tunic.
Gwen busied herself with undoing her robe and climbing into bed, keeping her eyes on the fabric. Even after nearly half a year of marriage she still found herself burning when she caught sight of his bare skin.
He climbed into bed beside her, surprising her by pulling her up against his chest swiftly.
He opened his mouth to tell her something yet she spoke before he had the chance.
“You'll take care, won't you?”
The question, so quiet and yet so full of anxiety, caused him to tuck her head underneath his chin in order to hold her closer.
She gratefully tightened her grip upon him as she buried her head into his soft tunic.
She had lost her father, her child; she couldn't imagine losing her husband and best friend too.
True she had seen Arthur go off to battle before. Compared to that, this morning's trip should be nothing.
Yet she couldn't prevent herself from picturing the band of knights meeting up with Melwas' rogue soldiers in an all out battle.
What would happen then?
Arthur was a fine warrior, perhaps the best out of all of his men, yet he was still a mortal man. It was entirely possible for him to be killed.
“It'll be alright,” he reassured her, his hand sifting through her curls.
After some time she felt the difference in his breathing,having had her ear pressed against his chest, signaling that he had managed to fall asleep. She found that sleep evaded her that night, worried as she was about the man she was nearly entangled with.
It was her sleep heavy eyes that greeted him after he jolted awake from Merlin's 'wake-up knock' against the chamber door.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead before reluctantly withdrawing from her and climbing out of bed.
She watched him for a moment before quickly throwing back the blankets and grabbing her discarded robe.
As Guinevere tied it tightly about herself she watched her husband stretch and then turn, a hand halfway through ruffling his hair, as he caught her looking.
“Aren't you going back to sleep?” he asked, frowning as she shook her head. She had not spoken that morning yet he didn't need for her to tell him that she hadn't slept; her eyes alone could do that.
He took her gently by the shoulder in an attempt to steer her back to the blankets.
“It will only be for a few days,” he reassured her, faltering slightly as she ducked out of his grip. She stepped into her dressing chamber to emerge a moment later, her curls tied back with a green silk ribbon.
“Let me help you, please,” she requested, her brown eyes meeting his blue.
He hesitated, before nodding.
It wasn't as if he didn't appreciate her help. Rather, he was glad to spend more time with her before he had to leave. But it was her blood-shot eyes and air of weariness that had kept him from acquiescing to her for a second.
But who was he kidding? He would permit her anything.
Gwen followed her husband into his sitting room where Merlin was already laying out a light meal. He gave the princess a half smile, himself looking rather tired, before ducking out of the room.
As he broke his fast she ventured into his dressing chambers to gather up the necessary clothing. Having never had a reason to go through her husband's clothes before it took her a few moments to work out where everything was. After gathering a quick understanding of where everything was she began to pull out the appropriate items.
Shouldering open the door she stepped back into his sitting room, the clothes folded neatly in her arms, to find Arthur wiping his face dry upon a linen.
Quietly she set out upon the freshly cleared table one of her husband's scarlet gambeson, a warm looking red tunic, and a new pair of trousers.
She quirked an eyebrow at the sword belt hanging haphazardly from the chest of drawers in the far corner. His scarlet cloak, with the Pendragon crest sewn into the shoulder, was no better off draped across the back of one of the finely carved chairs by the fireplace.
“You should take better care of your clothing ,” she teased, handing off the trousers and tunic to her husband as he strode off to change.
“Instead of leaving it lying all over the place.”
He rolled his eyes in jest.
“If Merlin did his job correctly....”
The young man opened his mouth to retort but the princess had already begun to answer.
“It isn't Merlin's fault that you leave your clothing in the oddest of places.”
To accentuate her point she moved to the mentioned chest of drawers, fishing out a sock from where it had been peeping out behind the furniture.
Her husband gave her a sarcastic laugh while Merlin grinned in triumph.
He emerged dressed a minute or two later, finishing tying his gambeson as he approached Merlin. The servant helped the prince pull the chainmail over his head
Gwen watched as the young man helped Arthur into the rest of his armor. She found her heart thudding harder with each piece being attached. One less piece meant one less second she had with him...
As Merlin went to attach the gauntlets to her husband's armor, she piped up.
“I'll do it.”
Both men glanced up from the metal pieces, a little surprised at her outburst.
“My lady,” Merlin nodded to her, relinquishing the piece to her.
Not wanting to intrude on their goodbye the servant gestured to the door.
“I'll just, er, go prepare the horses...”
She remained quiet until she heard the click of the door, signaling that Merlin had indeed left.
Gwen approached him, taking his offered arm and buckling the right gauntlet on.
She had seen him do it countless times through the year, in addition to 'helping' her father when she had been a child. A wistful smile stole its way to her lips when she thought about Sir Thomas. She had simply, at such a young age, straightened the buckle for him on his cloak and had been praised for helping prepare him.
She cleared her throat awkwardly, going to collect his cloak for him.
It wouldn't do to reminiscence about the dead at a time like this.
His hands stalled hers as she went to clasp it about his neck.
She picked up her head, having not been able to meet his eyes for fear that he would see the tears pooling there.
Without warning his lips descended upon hers.
She threw her arms about his shoulders, not minding the metal covering at all, and tried to get as close as possible to him.
After what seemed like hours, but in reality mere minutes, her husband broke their embrace.
Faintly she could hear men talking in the courtyard below and the clacking of horse hooves against the stone pavement.
Was it really time for him to leave?
“I'll be back as soon as I can,” he promised her, pressing one more kiss to her lips before reluctantly moving toward the door.
She quickly spun to face him once more.
“Arthur-”
He paused, his hand on the door knob.
“When....when you return. We'll try again.”
She needn't explain what she was referring to; it was clear enough to him that she was speaking of their child situation.
He nodded, sparing her a fleeting smile, before leaving her.
She let out a shaky breath, feeling as if one half of herself was missing.
0o0o0
What was supposed to be a few days turned into a week.
And then two.
November had reached them by the time word came that the situation on the border was under control. From what she had seen of the reports, which she had 'borrowed' from the king, Arthur and his men had waited on a tip for Melwas' soldiers to return. Yet the tip turned out to be false, and the men were forced to wait nearly a week and a half for the men to show.
She had instantly questioned the young solider who had returned ahead of the larger party as to whether there had been any causalities. She knew that if the prince had died she would have heard about it the second the scout set foot into the citadel. But she needed to actually hear the assurance that he was alive to believe it.
Elyan had been attempting to calm her throughout her husband's absence yet there was only so hunting parties, court dances, and walks around the garden that she could take. She knew, despite him not saying anything, that her brother was a little sour that he had not accompanied Arthur and his men. Her husband thought that he was not yet ready, which Gwen agreed with, to face Melwas' men with such little formal training.
She had even thrown herself into preparing for the birth of one of the court ladies' children. Lady Helga had been near to bursting when the men had set out two weeks earlier. It had been nearly into the first week that they had been gone that the woman had gone into labor. Gwen had waited eagerly outside the lady's chambers among the other courtiers, keeping the woman's husband company. Beatrice and Batilda, having had their own children, had gone on into the birthing room to help.
Gwen had been in high spirits that afternoon, picturing the crowd that would wait outside her own chambers for word of the next royal heir.
And then the child had been delivered dead.
Had she had her way she would have sprinted from the scene but, due to her position, she was obligated to offer her condolences to the parents. Afterward she had retreated to her bedchamber, banishing her ladies and brother, to the sanctuary of her empty bed. None save for little Welfed, who had no perception of her sorrow, were permitted into her chambers that day.
She hadn't actually seen the child, but she had caught sight of the wrapped bundle that Gaius had been handed by the midwife.
It had reminded her too much of the bloodstained rags that had been brought out of her own room.
She couldn't do it....not yet. Arthur would have to understand.
A scout arrived in the early morning not too long after the arrival of the last to alert the king that the men were mere hours away. Preparations instantly were made for a feast to welcome home the kingdom's men that evening, much to the consternation of the cooking staff. The hubbub of her husband's impending return slowly helped to extinguish the melancholia that she had been feeling. With a legitimate smile upon her face she asked her ladies to help her dress into one of her latest gowns. The chemise was made of a dark blue with a printed pattern, which was then half covered with an ice blue, velvet surcoat. She herself tied the last ribbons on the surcoat in an effort to speed her preparations; her husband could be arriving at any moment.
Eagerly, like a child awaiting a sweet, she perched herself upon her bridal gift to observe the courtyard below. It was around eleven that morning that she saw the Pendragon banner appear in the distance.
“They're almost here!” she announced, startling Catherine enough to drop her embroidery.
Welfed yapped in excitement simply because his mistress was running about.
After pausing to pat him on the head she nearly raced through her series of rooms to the corridor.
At the last moment she remembered to grab a cloak to ward off the growing chill in the air, backtracking to her chamber before continuing her track.
Already excited whispers were being flung about the halls as word spread that the squad of men was returning. She met the king at the bottom of the stone steps leading to the courtyard, gladly taking his offered arm.
She missed the amused look that the king gave at her expectant expression, too focused on the gates leading to the courtyard. Even from her position at the steps she could hear the clattering of horses coming up through the lower town. A few moments later the horsemen emerged to the polite applause of the nobles and servants gathered there.
Gwen felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest as he gaze locked onto the rider at the front of the group, her husband.
He dismounted his charger, handed the reins to a waiting page, and approached the steps.
The prince knelt before his father who quickly bent to raise him. After embracing the king, Arthur turned his attention to the woman beside him.
Not waiting for him to make the first move, she nearly launched herself at him.
There was a collective chuckle among the crowd at her brash actions, yet she could care less about them.
All that mattered was that she felt as if a part of her had returned.
It both frightened and excited her.
0o0o0o0
Later that evening, as they both prepared for the feast held in the knights' honor, Gwen updated him on what he had missed.
“We received a letter from Morgana while you were gone,” she said, passing him a clean rag so that he could scrub the grime of the road off of his face. She had dismissed Merlin to prepare for the evening, seeing the gratefulness in the tired man's eyes, leaving the two alone.
“She is nearly ready to birth her babe.”
He nodded, emerging much cleaner from behind the now damp rag.
“Remind me to ask the bishop to include her in tomorrow's prayers,” he added, watching as she nodded.
“She wishes for us to be godparents. I have yet to write her back because I wished to consult you on a gift for our nephew. Or niece.”
He pondered the idea as he shucked his tunic off.
“We'll take a visit to the treasury tomorrow.”
She picked up the discarded tunic, rolled her eyes at his actions, and folded it upon his table.
“This was what I was talking about with you clothing-”
Before she knew what was happening she found herself on her back on the very table she had just been folding the shirt upon.
He was instantly between her legs, leaning over her and kissing her fully.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, faltering slightly as she realized where this was going.
“I've missed you,” he murmured, peppering kissed down her jaw.
“Arthur....”
He returned his lips to hers as his hand began to draw up her skirt.
With one well aimed heave she nearly threw him off of her.
He staggered back for a moment, confusion written across his face.
“I thought-”
“No.”
She dusted off her skirt as she slid off of the table, avoiding his gaze.
“I changed my mind.”
He stared at her for a moment, as if struck dumb.
“I understand that what you went through- what we both went through- was a harrowing experience, but we have to start moving on, Gwen. We...we need a son. And I thought...”
He dragged a hand through his hair, trying not to become frustrated.
“I thought you wanted a family? You were so excited last time.”
She bit her lip, feeling the skin close to breaking, before turning away from him.
“Just knock on my door when you're ready to go to the hall,” she said, ducking out before he could say another word.
Arthur watched her go, confusion and pain forming a knot in his chest.
0o0o0
She knew her husband was right, but she just couldn't admit it to him.
Instead she sat stiff beside him during the feast, not daring to dance with any other man as he had not asked her first. She numbly clapped when prompted during the king's speech about the bravery of Camelot's knights in the defeat of the border invaders, even though she wasn't exactly sure of what Uther said.
Arthur, for his part, kept Merlin refilling his goblet the entire night.
The only time that she looked up from her plate besides her former guardian's speech was when he bid the court 'goodnight'. Gwen had seen the tax that the excitement of the day had taken on the king and had, wisely, not mentioned it in public. All it took was one misheard word to create a rumor of the king 's health in peril.
As soon as his father left Arthur went to mill around the room, greeting courtiers and checking up on his knights.
No one made an effort to speak to her out of her ladies, having seen her reaction when she had walked form her husband's room earlier. It was Merlin, however, that attempted to see if she was alright.
As he leaned over to refill her goblet he snuck her a look.
“Gwen?”
She plastered a small smile onto her lips, although the gesture did not meet her eyes.
“I'm fine,” she insisted, taking a sip from the goblet after he had finished.
She glanced down at the liquid, speaking to it instead of him.
“Thank you, really.”
A sharp, feminine laugh caught her attention. She raised her head to find the source of the noise: Lady Grisella.
Her heart leaped into her throat when she realized who the lady was laughing with.
The young woman had a dainty hand upon the prince's arm, as if using him to hold herself up from her laughter.
Yet Gwen could see that calculating look in the buxom woman's eyes even from the dais.
Would she ever cease to worry about her position as the only woman in Arthur's life?
To her embarrassment Arthur did nothing to discourage the lady's liberty with his person. Instead he laughed at her comment, downing the rest of his goblet afterward.
Without think she stood from her chair.
Instantly her ladies stopped what they were doing and rose from the bench that they had been stationed at to follow the princess as she strode through the crowd.
A hush fell as the women left the room.
Gwen pushed past her ladies once they reached her destination and tried to open the door to her receiving chambers as calmly as possible, as if she had not just stormed out of a crowded banquet hall. Her hands shook slightly, both from her anger and her embarrassment, as she strode through the series of rooms to her shared bedchamber.
“If you would help me undress, ladies,” she requested, trying to keep her tone calm. Her women eyed her nervously before bustling about to do what their mistress requested of them.
“Lamb...”
She bit her lip, fighting against the urge to fall into tears into her ex-nurse's arms. She was a woman now, and such behavior was only fitting for a child.
She didn't have the chance to answer Batilda as the she heard the door to her receiving room fly open and smack against the stone wall. She fought to keep her resolve, wincing slightly as the noise of the door to the next chamber, her sitting room, met its fate against the stone.
Closer.
Her husband barged into their bedchamber, wobbling slightly as he tried to keep his balance. Merlin hurried behind him, a fretful expression on his face.
“Leave,” her husband ordered, his eyes flashing to the assorted women. Flustered, the three youngest ones dropped into quick curtsies before leaving as asked. Batilda hesitated, floundered under Arthur's stare, and reluctantly left.
“Arthur-”
“You too,” he instructed his manservant who had a hand out, as if about to drag his master away from his wife.
Merlin shot Gwen a sympathetic look over the prince's shoulder before leaving as asked.
Gwen busied herself with removing the diamonds that had been hooked into her ears as Arthur simmered.
“What gave you the idea that you could just walk out in such a fashion?” he asked her, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed onto the side table to right himself, still feeling the effects of the wine that he had drank.
She calmly placed her earrings on the window ledge before turning to him, her features clearly annoyed.
“Maybe it was Lady Grisella's breasts pushing themselves into your face,” she countered, sarcasm dripping from her tone. She gently took out the jeweled comb that had held her curls back before placing the piece beside the earrings.
“What?!” came his indignant response.
“You know exactly what I mean,” she bit back, turning to stride right up to him. Despite their height difference she felt rather fierce.
“Do you realize that there are a dozen or more girls of the court just waiting for you to turn away from me? That these girls would jump into your bed- our bed- the first chance you gave them? That it kills me for you to even talk to them?”
She felt her eyes water, partly from frustration, as she continued her tirade.
“I'm sorry, truly, that I keep denying you. I don't want to upset you.”
“Then why do you keep running from me, Gwen?” he retorted, clarity shining through his eyes through his tipsiness. “You keep saying these things yet you aren't acting on them. And you think that I don't notice these girls? What they are trying to do? Tell me...have I spent one night away from your bed while I've been under the same roof as you?”
Without warning she raised her small hands to shove against his chest.
She ignored his first question, and instead focused on the second.
“That doesn't mean you might think about it from time to time. It must have crossed your mind. Hasn't it?”
He grabbed her wrists as she moved to shove him again.
“You're going too far,” he warned, although she quickly began to talk over him.
Feeling her voice raise, and not caring, she continued.
“You would do it....sleep with one of them if you could. Who wouldn't? You wouldn't be the first.” She tugged at her hands, trying to free them.
“And I could do nothing about it! I...I won't have relations with you, because I don't wish to disappoint you if I fail again. You'll eventually look elsewhere.”
His own volume began to rise as he defended himself.
“How could you even think-”
“It would kill me! To know that you are with another when I love you!”
Silence fell between the two as they realized what she said.
She loved him.
She loved him.
She couldn't stand to be apart from him, or to see him loved by another. To know that this man, who had become a piece of her, wasn't near her was unbearable.
His lips crashed onto hers and she responded in kind.
Before she knew it they had tumbled back onto their bed, shoving each other's clothes off as fast as possible.
I love you.
I love you.
The words seemed to be branded into her mind, into her heart.
His entry into her was swift enough to catch her by surprise. Her nails dug into his back in an attempt to hold on as he worked above her. With passion of her own she willed her hips to rock up to meet his.
“Arthur,” she moaned, needing him to be as close to her as possible.
As far inside of her as possible.
He thrust into her harder in response to her soft noises.
His hands threaded through her hair as his kisses left her breathless.
She tightened her hold on him as he brought her to the point of ecstasy more than once that night.
She liked to pin that night at the night her second child was conceived.