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This was originally going to be part of a much longer fic set during the first of Morgana's absences. When I started writing The Exile I decided to simply make this a part of that timeline though this could fit rather neatly into the Merlin cannon.





Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


 

"Take this Gwen."

She let Arthur's hand fold hers round the small linen pouch and felt the hardness of round metal coins.  It was warm -he'd pulled the pouch from an inner pocket- like the hand closing round hers.

"Thank you My Lord."Feeling shy she turned away "What of the Lady Morgana, I- I still don't understand what happened."A moment later  she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Shall we sit?"

"I don't mind." The prince merely shrugged as she gathered the dishes into an unwieldy stack. "I'm an unexpected guest in your home."

"That's polite of you to say." Guinevere hurried to dump the dishes into the wash bucket before returning to her seat, eyes on the Prince.

 He sat -she thought- like a soldier. Straight, tall, feet braced and gloved hands resting lightly on his thighs and dressed, still, in his armor. It occurred to her then that he must have come directly to her after reporting to the king.

"My Lord when was the last time you rested or ate?" She got to her feet even as she said the words. When Arthur responded merely by sighing and leaning his head on his hand, she knew that it had been too long.

"I have still some dinner left." Gwen spooned the last of the rabbit stew they'd made into a wooden bowl; she didn't mention that it was a donation party to keep her on her feet. With the Lady Morgana gone she was unemployed and had no reason to eat at the castle. She had far less money set aside than she liked and had worried that it might not last her until she found another employer.

"A party?"

She looked over her shoulder; her eyes landed on Arthur. Gwen felt a smile hitching itself up her face. Thanks to him that was no longer a concern.

"Yes."  She turned her attention back to the simple task of making his plate. Along with the stew she had the last of yesterday's bread not the freshest, but far from stale. Gwen thought of Arthur not stopping to rest, take off his armor eat. She thought of him rushing to her worried and felt heat gather under her skin.

"And here I was worried."

She took a deep breath before replying.

"The girls were trying to cheer me up." She placed an apple on the wooden tray and told herself to be calm before approaching him. In a few steps she was standing beside his chair, placing the tray on the table in front of him. She'd done this many times before for him, but never in her tiny house. The heat he generated filled up the inches between them while the bulk of him seemed to fill her tiny house in ways he couldn't fill the dining hall he shared with the Lady Morgana and King Uther.

"Guinevere."

She looked down startled at the sound of her name, the richness of his voice and felt the tiniest start of an ache at the weariness in his blue eyes.

"Yes My Lord?"

"Thank you."

She smiled at that "This armor must be making you uncomfortable."

"I am."

 Guinevere began undoing the ties on his should plate to cover her sudden nervousness.

"Were there any good leads?"

"No," he said, "and truthfully I don't know how we might find them."

She froze Morgana was not only her employer, but also her friend.

"Morguase conjured her away. There are no tracks to follow, no hoof print or broken blade of grass." He sighed and Gwen thought again of how weary he was.

"I don't need to know now, please eat relax." She undid the joining of his gauntlet and began working on the opposite shoulder plate.

"Very well, but," He smiled up at her and she could not but smile in return "tell me some of what you've been doing now that you're a woman of leisure.

"Weeellll I've been sleeping in every day, eating a leisurely breakfast and spending all my time on my hair."Gwen shook her curls for emphasis.

"And here I've been so worried."

Guinevere smiled at his humor.

"Let's get this off of you hmm?" Gwen taped his breast plate.

Arthur paused in the consumption of his stew so that she could lift his breast plate over his head. Gwen stacked the armor neatly in a corner near the door.

"I haven't slept in at all actually I've been keeping quite busy."  Gwen slowed in her actions feeling the weight of the Prince's eyes upon her. She remembered again that they were alone in her tiny house, remembered that their relationship was so very different than it had been the last time they'd been alone here. Remembered that unlike many a wealthy noblewoman the only things that might dower her were her looks, her youth and her maidenhead.

She turned slowly and slid into her chair, not meeting his eyes.

"Did you count it?"

She flicked slightly widened eyes in his direction.

"N-no," She heard the tremble in her voice and groaned inwardly. "I'm certain that whatever the amount is it is more than generous."

"Guinevere," his voice was warm and serious, a caress that slid over her ears and he looked pleased for some reason she could not figure, "if I have to leave suddenly I want to be certain that your situation is as secure as I can make it."

That statement along with the warmth in his cobalt eyes sent a familiar surge through her. She picked up the little bag and tugged at the knot securing its contents, but could not quite get her fingers to perform the simple task.

"This is really good."

His voice seemed to come from nowhere and she pulled hard on the strings, silver coins spilled across the table and Guinevere let out a little gasp. Quickly she gathered the coins and counted them.

"Truly sire it is much too generous." She put most of the coins into a neat stack and pushed them towards him.

"It's nothing." He pushed the stack back across the table to her.

"It is eight weeks worth of wages the Lady Morgana has only been gone for two and I have worked and been paid for half of these days."

Arthur finished the stew and turned towards her.

"You made that or was it the friends that you had over?"

"I made it and-"

"-You're an excellent cook Guinevere."

"Thank you sire I cannot accept this."

"Yes you can Guinevere," he did not look at her when he spoke "you don't have a position right now and I may be gone for a very long time on the next lead."  He paused and she noticed for the first time that the hand resting on the table was clinched into a fist. "I want- need to be certain that you are as secure as I can make you," he unclenched his fists and pushed the stack of coins across the table.

"Please Guinevere I beg you," his eyes finally met hers "take them."

For a long moment she said nothing, it was a lot of money, money she had not eared.  She searched his eyes and he held hers.

"Very well my Lord. Thank you."

The tension that oozed out of him with those words was visible. His shoulders came down and strain round his eyes lessened as he gave her a wan smile, Gwen felt some pleasure at that.

"So tell me what have you been doing besides your hair?"

She chuckled as she tied up the little linen purse.

"Not so very much really." Guinevere felt the start of a smile that he returned. "There was one thing. I took a crossbow from Elador."

"Really, whatever for?"

She looked away and then looked back him defiantly.

"To use."

"As you like."

"It took some time to acquire the bolts and it's only been this week that I've had time to practice. I think I'm getting good."

"A sharp student can master the crossbow quickly? Where do you practice?"

"My father had a small work room here I finally cleared it out."

"Would you mind giving me a demonstration?"

For a moment she felt shy "I-No not at all."

 

 __________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

"Not bad, but you can get a more consistent shot."

"Okay."

"Reload, take your stance and I'll show you." Arthur surveyed the work room while Guinevere re-armed the crossbow. It was not large enough for a true smithy and whatever tools had been stored here were now gone. If she truly wanted to test her skill Guinevere would have to go somewhere else to practice. The room, small and simple had walls and floors of simple rough cut planks, two small windows, hung with patchwork curtains one in shades of pink and red calicos and the other in a strange combination of stripes, checks and zigzags in bright orange, green, blue and yellow. He'd seen most of the different patterns peasants wove into their cloth for decorating their homes, but he'd never seen anything like this though.

"I'm done."

Her words brought Arthur out of his reverie. He took a moment to appraise her stance it was good, grounded solidly, hips neutral, shoulders natural.

"Your stance is good." Arthur crossed the small room and stood beside her. "There are just a couple of quick adjustments that I would have you make. To ensure a straight and consistent shot every time it is minor details like your elbows and wrist that will make the difference."

"Elbows and wrists?" Guinevere lowered her arms.

"Arms back up." 

Guinevere raised her arms at the command without thinking.

"You'll want your elbows straight but not tense, and a firm relaxed wrist. In just about any combat situation your wrist is one of the most important things," Arthur watched her make the subtle adjustments, but still was not satisfied.  The Prince closed his hand round her wrist and shifted her grip ever so slightly into the right position.

"Like that," he shifted it back again. "Not like this."

She nodded and Arthur noticed the subtle shake of her black curls. In the next moment he told himself he was running his hand along the length of her arm to check her elbow position not simply taking an opportunity to touch Guinevere.    

"Good try again."

The shot was perfect.

"Well done. Now if you're really serious you'll want to get out of here and into the open. Also you might want to consider learning to use a knife for self-defense."

"A knife," she looked at him incredulously.

"Why not, the lady Morgana learned and I know it's not common, but if a woman so desires why shouldn't she. She may want to defend a village some day," he gave her a wink.

Guinevere felt herself smiling at him.

"She may at that."

"Show me these unsold weapons you said your father left behind."

Guinevere walked to the wooden chest in the corner and Arthur continued his lecture.

"While a crossbow is a good weapon reloading requires all of your attention. If you are dealing with multiple enemies you could easily be caught unaware. You'll need other options."

Guinevere nodded.

"This is what you want," Arthur handed her the simple gleaming blade hilt first. "It's got good balance and a keen edge it can be thrown with great precision. Pick a target."

Guinevere surveyed the room and smiled as her eyes landed on their mark.

"This line here," She pointed to a series of lighter lines and darker lines running the height of the door jam.

"What are those?"

"Notches for my brother and me as we grew. The black ones are Elyan and the blue are for me. Hit this one." Guinevere pointed to the highest of the blue, smiling.

"Okay."

She stepped aside she expecting to see him lean back, put a lot of force into it, but instead he simply balanced the blade in his hand and with a flick of his wrist demonstrated what he'd explained only moments ago.

"Well done." She clapped briefly and he bowed.

"Thank you."

"Knife fighting or knife throwing would be a handy skill, but I can't simply pick-up the instruction the way I did with the crossbow."

Arthur regarded her with a thoughtful expression as he collected the knife.

"How did you pick-up the instruction?"

"I just listened to you explain it one day."

"Ahhh and here I thought perhaps you were hanging around just to see me."

"Don't flatter yourself sire," Gwen threw that quip over her shoulder.

For a moment he looked surprised.

"Ugh,my vanity. You've dealt me quite a blow Madame I do not believe I shall recover." Arthur slumped against the wall.

"You'll be all right." Guinevere put the knife away and began collecting the crossbow bolts.  "You never did tell me-" The young woman paused as she heard him groan. "My lord," she turned and saw him slumped against the wall, a hand to his chest as if wounded.

"Sire?" She made a question of the title.

When his only response was to groan and slump to the floor Guinevere felt the first prickings of worry.

"My Lord," she hurried to his side. "Are you unwell?"

Again he groaned.

Truly worried Guinevere gathered her skirt with one hand and crouched by his side. She couldn't see an injury, but his eyes were closed and he appeared to be in pain. She laid a hand on his forehead to check for fever and that was when he jumped at her.

"Ha!"

He roared it and Guinevere screamed her heart pounding. For a long moment she sat  staring at him in amazed,  frightened shock

"You could catch flies like that." Guinevere snapped her mouth shut as he started to laugh.

"You-"

"I gotcha."

"Yes, yes you did." The prince laughed harder and as her heart slowed Gwen felt the bubble laughter bubble up in her throat. For a while they laughed together.

"You should've seen the look on your face, startled does not begin to cover it."

She looked at him sideways "I was scared and you sire are quite the beast for startling me that way."

Arthur's only response was to laugh more and suddenly just a bit frustrated Guinevere sought the only revenge that made sense to her. With curved fingers she attacked and found his mid-section for tickle torture. Of course he grabbed at her wrist and she squirmed away only to attack again. In moments they were laughing, groaning and scraping on the floor. It was a fairly even match until Guinevere's fingers found the bend of his knee. If he tried to fend her off or protect that area her hands found his mid-section leaving the prince wondering how someone so small could inflict so much damage.

"Do you relent, Sire?'

"Never," he made a grab for her wrist, but she was too fast for. In a moment she had launched a still more pointed assault. Finally lying weak and breathless on his side Arthur chose to relent rather endure anything more.

"I relent."

"Good." Guinevere sat back relaxed her tone imperious

Arthur lay on his side trying catch his breath. For a time all was quiet and it came to the prince that he was more relaxed in this moment then he had been since the Lady Morgana's disappearance. He felt himself smile at the thought and let his eyes slide along the wooden planking of the floor to one of her small brown hands. He could recall with ease the lightness of her hand on his arm when he'd kissed her a week ago before riding off in search of Morgana and the tingling heat those hands could send through him with the briefest touch.  Arthur closed one large fair hand round her smaller brown one and stroked his thumb across her palm. Sitting up he retained possession of her hand.

"You're so beautiful Guinevere."


              "Sire," She kept her eyes on him rather than look away as she so often did and he studied her.

She looked so warm and perfect in this light. Her brown skin flushed from their earlier activity seemed to have its own glow and her eyes so dark and full of light, and life and secrets. Arthur knew there was something different in her eyes when she looked at him and he searched for it now. Something that warmed his skin, made his heart ache, in a moment he felt that familiar heat.

"You never say my name Guinevere."

"My Lord- I-" she looked away and he tilted her chin back up to meet those perfect brown eyes.

"Just once no titles, just my name, Arthur, let it pass your lips."

"Ar-" she paused her perfect mouth parted for just a moment "Arthur."

He could not suppress the groan that escaped his lips with her simple utterance of those two syllables.

"Guinevere," her name came out in a whisper and he dipped his lips down to hers. There were times, moments when he wondered at the wisdom of all that lay between them and acknowledged the impossibility of anything ever growing out of those feelings. In those moments he need only recall her face, her touch, the way he could not resist her voice when she addressed him, the weight and softness of her in his arms and as much as those moment overwhelmed him there was so much more.

Arthur let himself melt into the sweet softness of her lips, took hold of her hands twinning his fingers with the warmth of hers. It was only when he needed breath that he gave up the joy of kissing her and it was the look in her eyes that brought his lips back to hers. When she broke the second kiss, pulled her hands from his put space between them Arthur rose and pulled her to her feet.

"I should probably go."

She nodded and together they walked back into the main room of her tiny home.

He gathered his armor, and Guinevere settled his cloak round his shoulders.

"Goodnight Guinevere."

"Good night Sire take care."

Arthur took one long look at her before walking into the chill, rainy night.

After he'd gone Guinevere set about cleaning and found a second pouch with more coins and a note.

If I'd have given it to you earlier I know you would have tried to return it. Take it, keep it, enjoy it. Arthur.












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.