10 Moments

AN: So, apparently I'm incapable of writing anything other than one-shots. This was originally going to be a chapter story (with each moment being a chapter) but I kept reading these 100 words stories and really liking them so I thought I'd change the idea and give this a shot. Just how I imagined A/G could get together. 2, 3 are from the show, from 1 and 4 onwards is me. Unbeta'd so mistakes are all mine.

AN 2: This was written about a million years ago, btw. Just thought I'd post it anyway.

Words: 1,000.

Pairing/Characters: Arthur/Gwen, centred mainly on Gwen, mentions of everyone.

Summary: A/G, 10 drabbles in the lives of Arthur and Gwen.

Disclaimer: Um, no, I don't own Merlin. Just borrowing and will return in pristine condition. Promise.

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10: Ceremony

Her heart's beating like a rabbit and she's definitely going to trip over. Then she hears Morgana whispering in her ear – "You're going to be fine, just breathe. Arthur's waiting for you so – go!".

As she enters the hall, heads swivel in her direction so she squares her shoulders and raises her chin; she is a queen. Merlin catches her eye and grins, momentarily forgetting the dark times they live in, then she looks ahead and sees Arthur. He smiles, eyes on her alone, and she finds herself shyly smiling back.

The priest takes their hands.

This is their beginning.

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9: Sunset

This is it; tomorrow she will be married and crowned.

Below her balcony two guards patrol, a new mark of security against Morgana and the army she is massing. Merlin has assured her many times that nothing can go wrong – he and Arthur have been working together to cover all possibilities but she thinks this wouldn't be nearly so nerve-wracking if she could just talk to her friend.

Queen. She shapes the word, how strange it sounds. Will it ever become natural? She doubts it.

Queen for the people, perhaps. Queen; wife.

On the eve of her wedding, Gwen sleeps soundly.

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8: Banquet

The high table is overflowing in a way it hasn't in years – wine flows freely and voices laugh and chatter, echoing off the walls in celebration of a royal betrothal.

She panicked when she was nearly given Morgana's seat and was grateful when Arthur intervened; it is now reserved for unnamed visiting dignitaries, eager to make their claims with Arthur now he is King.

He is engaged in conversation with an older man to his left but Merlin nudges her and smiles; strange for them both to be here in these places of honour, shining beacons of the new rule.

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7: Question

Arthur looks tired. She reaches for his hand and he strokes it with his thumb, almost unknowingly.

They both gaze out at the lake, trying to relax and just be. But somewhere her brain realises that it'll never be quite like it was because Uther's dead and Merlin's a magician, her father is gone and she sleeps in a room in the castle.

Morgana hangs over them like a cloud. No one says her name anymore. They say she's mad.

"I'm worried. All the time. Everything's going to change."

A smile and the best words to say. "I'm right here."

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6: Possibility

Uther declares a ball to be held, celebrating the treaty of alliance between two nations.

It hurts more than it should, seeing him on the dais, surrounded by knights and wives and colours and silks. She feels drab in comparison and suddenly maudlin, slips away. Arthur doesn't seem to notice.

Later, when the tables have been cleared, the dancing begins. He doesn't begin straightaway but walks slowly around the throng of people, eventually stopping in front of her. She blinks in surprise and he extends a hand, smiling slightly.

They move onto the floor and she sees Uther's mouth tighten.

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5: Clandestine

Merlin has begged off the afternoon to look after Gaius, still ailing from an unyielding winter. She agrees to oversee the cleaning of Arthur's rooms without thinking, only anticipating how amusing Arthur's surprise will be and how amiable she could be to an afternoon together.

His hand slips around her waist when there is a sudden knock on the door.

They quickly spring apart as the door swings open, revealing Uther. He takes in their haphazard appearances and looks darkly at Arthur, reproaching him in a silent, intense gaze.

She realises she's holding her breath, mutters "cleaning" as she leaves.

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4: First

When Morgana left, leaving only "sorry" written in twirling script, marked with G, she feared Uther's notorious temper.

Eventually though, she hears through the gossip-mongers that the Prince interceded on her behalf and her temporary position has been turned into a permanent one.

Some weeks later, she is cleaning Arthur's rooms when he storms in, unseeing, and sinks onto the bed. She moves to shut the door on unwelcome eyes, but a hand fastens on her wrist and she turns.

Like it was habit, she looks into his eyes, brushes hair from his forehead and leans in to his kiss.

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3: Nursemaid

Merlin believes in him. He's told her countless times how he knows Arthur will be a great king, the golden prince of Camelot.

Gently, she sponges his forehead as the fever begins to pitch and the mutterings start. Eyes roll back in his head and his skin goes a clammy white.

Guinevere. No one calls her that but him. The name seems to be reserved for him and suddenly she needs to hear it again.

He's a talisman for them, she realises. They all need for this boy to wake up okay and take them forward, wherever it may be.

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2: Direct

She's just trying to make him understand the life these people have but there's forthrightness in her voice that scares her.

He appears genuinely contrite and she thinks she sees new respect dawn in his eyes as he apologises. Suddenly, for a second, she wonders what he's thinking, why he is here when his father shied away from the conflict altogether.

Merlin is a big factor, yes, but he really believes, she decides, in the knightly virtues. That people deserve protection from their lords and honour and justice are all important.

As he passes her, she smiles with the thought.

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1: Contact

Firstdaymustn'tbelate...

The path to the castle is familiar; she barely needs to think about it and instead focuses on remembering her morning duties.

Abruptly, thoughts are interrupted by the clatter of hooves and she pitches forward into some mud with a scream, hands out to catch her fall.

"Are you okay?" A golden-haired boy hauls her up, dusts her down. "There you are, no harm done".

He almost leaps back into the saddle and mock-salutes her, before riding away. She stares, half in a daze, before rapidly remembering the matter at hand, turning and running full-pelt to the castle.

"Mustn't...be...late!"

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AN 3: Wow, 100 words is a tough limit. I know it helps to refine your writing but major props to those of you who seem to knock them out on a regular basis. I kind of hate 4. I think I may have tried to squeeze in too much so it's ends up quite flat. Well, you live and learn. Also think I may have missed one somewhere. Progression seems a bit off.