After His Death
"My father would never approve, you know."
"I know."
Gwen watched him, smiling softly. She wasn't angered by the comment and she understood why things had to be the way they were. If it were anyone else, she might have felt the opposite way, but Arthur Pendragon was a Prince and soon to be King of Camelot. He kept her a secret from his father for protection, not because he was proud.
Arthur Pendragon. Future King. Yet here he was, holding her hand. Gwen had a hard time processing that.
She was a mere servant. She was nothing. But somehow he made her feel like the most important woman in the world.
He spoke again and when he did, his brought blue eyes were trained on the ground and his voice seemed almost nervous. "I wish things were different. You don't know how it has... Made me feel, having to hide you."
She tilted her head, studying his face. "I understand. It's kind of you to think that."
Arthur kissed her hand softly. "If my father ever found out..."
"We won't let that happen."
"But I couldn't live with -"
"We won't let that happen," She repeated firmly, more to convince herself than him.
Arthur's eyes rose to meet hers and she sighed, giving him a small smile.
"I love you, Guinevere," He told her, softly, "It's a poor excuse for the danger I'm putting you in. But it's true."
Gwen felt a wave of emotion at his words. He didn't often say that he loved her and she was starting to doubt that he did. Unable to help herself, she glowed with pride. He loved her. A silly little servant girl. Her.
"Merlin's a good lookout. I'm sure he'd inform us if they suspected anything," She laughed, smiling to break the tension.
"Merlin..." Arthur began, rolling his eyes, "Is a talentless, blundering idiot who is more trouble than he's worth."
"He's done a lot for you, Arthur," Gwen told him sternly.
"Done a lot? For me?" He scoffed, the sound of disbelief evident in his voice.
She couldn't stop the smile which crossed face again. She knew Arthur didn't mean it. She saw how much he cared for Merlin, like she did.
Arthur caught her expression before she could hide it. "What?"
"Nothing," She answered, still smiling, "It's just... When you're King there's no doubt that Merlin will be your right - hand man."
"When I'm King, things will be different. Like the absence of Merlin, for example."
Gwen laughed gently before a serious thought crossed her mind. She looked away from him as she spoke, unable to meet his eyes: "And where do... I... fit into in this little equation?"
It was a while before Arthur spoke and when he did, his voice suggested that he'd thought out each word carefully. "Do you think there's hope?"
"There is always hope." She was still unable to look at him. Instead she watched the grass swaying lightly in the breeze, pleasant perfumes of flowers reaching her nose, tickling her. Well, that was until she felt him carefully lift her chin up until their eyes were level. "Arthur..."
He didn't say anything. He only leant forward and kissed her, one hand moving up brush her hair away from her face, the other resting against her neck.
He kissed her softly, lovingly, his fingers lightly caressing her neck.
Gwen felt warmth flow through her, flowing all the way through her body like a river as she moved to be closer to him.
And suddenly he was kissing her more passionately. One of his arms finding her waist, his other hand tangling itself in her hair. Her hands rested lightly on his chest as he slowly began to -
...
The first thing Gwen was made aware of when she woke was the fact that she was crying. Hot tears were streaming from her eyes, pooling down her face.
She sat up, wrenching the covers towards her to wipe away the water but there wasn't any point. More tears made their way down until she was sobbing into her covers, trying to stem the flow.
It wasn't the first time she'd woken in the middle of the night but it was the worst and it certainly would not be the last.
She felt like ice, her whole body trembling from cold. The only warmth came from her tears, which still hadn't stopped as they made their way, mercilessly into the velvet sheets.
Oh, if Camelot could see their precious Queen now. How ruined, how broken she was.
If Arthur could see her now. What would he say? Would he be angry that she wasn't holding herself together, that she wasn't being the Queen Camalot expected her to be?
What if she didn't want to be Queen...
Sudden, white hot anger overtook her and she snatched the nearest vase from her beside table, throwing it at the wall, watching as it shattered into a million tiny pieces.
She didn't care what Arthur thought. He left her, he was the one who left her.
Kicking the covers away, Guinevere threw herself out of bed, without noticing how the stone floor resembled a solid block of ice, and found a tea pot. She threw that at the wall too. It didn't shatter but made loud noise, bouncing off the wall and across the floor. Anguished that it hadn't done more damage, she threw the whole tea set, internally screaming as she did so.
He left her.
Tears continued to stream down her face.
How could he possibly - How could he ever dream that she would be able to go on without him? She didn't want to. She didn't want to live in a world where he didn't exist.
Another vase hit a heavy blow at the wall and Gwen fell to her knees, defeated.
She buried her head in her lap, aware that the tears hadn't stopped and her breathing sounded in short, shallow gasps.
It hurt. It hurt so much. She could feel it; The tightening of her chest, the numbness of her limbs, the constant emptiness, and she didn't want to feel - No, she couldn't feel it anymore. It. Hurt. Too. Much.
No.
Gwen didn't count the hours she spent crying silently on the cold floor. What she did count, was when Merlin would walk in every night and pick her up. He'd carry her back over to her bed and lay her gently down, pulling the covers back over her shivering body. Then he'd gently wipe away her tears and hold her, speaking to her, telling her everything would be alright, desperately trying to hold back his own crying.
She would listen to him. She'd be okay, ready to face another day without Arthur. That was, of course, until the next night.
And then it would all start again.