Guinevere's Beau Tag
A/N: Honestly, I have no idea how this came about, too much YouTube I think…So, I did have some trouble as far as the whole there were no electronics in Medieval times, so I did the best I could, I figured that how they got to answering the questions is irrelevant the fact that they are answered is the only important thing…I'm talking too much…
Guinevere had come home to find a list of questions written neatly on a piece of parchment on her dining table; she picked up the paper, and skimmed over the questions. She smiled at some of them, and wondered to herself if Arthur could answer the bulk of these questions. She set the paper back down on the table, and walked over to her little stove to make herself a hot drink after a hard day's work, all the while wondering where the paper had come from. Just as she sat down with her drink, there was a knock at her door.
Not sure of who it was, and not expecting anyone, she set her drink down, and grabbed her shawl, and made her way to her door, she opened it minutely to peek outside, and saw no one. She pushed the door open all the way, and walked outside standing in front of her house, it was dark, and not a soul could be found, she looked left, then right, and scowled thinking that she was losing it, she turned back to enter her house, just as a pair of arms wrapped around her middle. She was tempted to scream, but she felt an all too familiar warmth against the body that held her captive.
"Arthur Pendragon!" She hissed. His response was a simple chuckle; apparently he thought it funny to scare the innocent half to death! She swatted at his hands until he released her, and marched into her house, silently expecting him to follow; he did, closing the door behind him. He set his cloak across her bed, as she turned back towards the stove. "Would you care for a drink?" She asked.
"I would love one, thank you Guinevere." She nodded, and continued with her ministrations. Arthur walked over to her, and placed his hands at her waist, while his chin rested on her shoulder. She showed no visible evidence that she was affected by his closeness. She seemed tense, probably angry at the fright he had given her. Arthur rained a parade of light kisses along the length of her neck. "Don't be upset." He murmured.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, seemingly unfazed by his attentions to her neck.
He froze, and his frame straightened, it was all in the name of fun, surely she wasn't taking it that serious? "Do you want me to leave?" He asked, nervous as to her response.
"No! No, I just…wasn't expecting you is all…" She poured the drink into a mug, and handed it to him. "Be careful, it's hot."
"Merlin informed me that Morgana had released you of your duties earlier than was the norm, and I thought I would stop by. I don't get to see you as often as I would like, just seems like a few glimpses here and there." Arthur sat at the table, and Gwen sat adjacent. "My visits seem so few and far between nowadays." He eyes lowered to the table, and then came across the piece of parchment. "What that?"
"A list of questions I found on my table when I got home, I don't really know where they came from." She replied picking up the paper.
"Anything interesting?" he asked.
"It all depends on who is answering them I guess." A moment passed.
"Ask me the questions." Arthur said.
"What?" She asked surprised.
"Ask me the questions, I think that it would be fun." He said
"Are you sure?" She asked.
"How hard can the questions be Guinevere? It's not like they're life or death." He answered.
"Of course not, I just think that they are rather silly."
"Well, I'll never know if you don't ask." He said with a smirk. She smiled.
"Okay." Guinevere set aside her mug, and unfolded the paper. "What is my favorite color?"
"Purple." He replied quite assured of himself. "See that was easy."
"You're wrong." She said quietly.
Arthur frowned. "What?"
"You are wrong; purple is not my favorite color."
"What do you mean purple is not your favorite color? It is THE very color of the dress that you have taken to wearing. I have come to know you to be in that PURPLE dress and you sometimes adorn you're hair with PURPLE flowers to match that PURPLE dress." Arthur ranted, jabbing his finger into the table with each point that he clearly thought he had made.
"Arthur, wearing a purple dress, and placing purple flowers in my hair, does not make purple my favorite color." She remarked, smiling a little at the fact that she clearly bruised his know-it-all-ego.
"If purple is not your favorite color, then why do you wear it all the time?" He prompted, thinking he had caught her in a fib.
"I often wear purple, because I happen to think that said color is a color that you most prefer on me. I wear it because I thought that purple may have been your favorite color." She blushed at her admission.
Arthur thought about that one, up until that point, he had never really given thought to a color that he favored over another. Now that he thought about it, maybe it did like purple a little more than most colors, Guinevere was right, purple was indeed his favorite color. Mostly because she wore it so nicely… "Okay, well if purple is not your favorite color, then what is?" He was genuinely curious.
"Red." She replied.
"Why red?" Arthur wondered out loud.
"Because, it is the color I favor most on you. Pendragon Red, more specifically. It goes with the gold in your hair, and the stark contrast is quite dashing." Again she blushed, and thought to herself, that there would probably be more to come. Arthur on the other hand, was very pleased with this newly acquired information, and would make it a point to wear red a lot more often.
"Interesting." Was all he said.
"Shall I continue?" She asked.
"Please do."
"Am I a tidy, or a messy person?" Arthur looked around the room, and then thought back to how immaculate Morgana's room always was.
"Most definitely Tidy." He said.
"Fair enough. Am I always on time, or late?" She questioned.
"On time. You are usual up before the sun." He said before he realized that he probably shouldn't have known that.
"How would you know." Gwen asked with a raised eyebrow. Arthur didn't want to tell her that he sometimes watched her as she made her way to work in the mornings.
"Lucky guess." He said, she didn't look like she believed him, but she let it go.
"What do I usually drink with my meals?" Was the following question.
"Water?" he guessed.
"You are correct, I can't stand mead, or cider, and I can barely hold the wine. The smell sickens me, so I wouldn't dream of drinking it." She said turning her nose up. "If I was collecting anything, what would it be?"
"Probably flowers, you can't seem to get enough of those." Arthur answered.
"They are very fragrant and beautiful…Uhmm, What is my eye color?" She closed her eyes as though he could forget.
"Don't shield them Guinevere. I know that they are brown, a shade so warm that they are the embers that caress my heart."
She actually swooned a little. "When did you become the romantic type?"
"I've always been this way." He stated proudly."
"No you haven't."
"Yes I have."
"Trust me Arthur, you haven't."
"What's that supposed to—"
Gwen cut him off, "Next question: Who wears the trousers in this relationship?"
"That would be me." Arthur said.
"And why is that?" Guinevere questioned.
"Because I'm the man, and you the woman, women obviously don't wear trousers."
"The question is metaphorical Arthur, and I believe that we each have a leg in." She answered for him. "What was our first road trip?"
"That time we traveled to Ealdor, with Merlin, and Morgana." Arthur said.
"I agree, I don't remember any trips prior to that."
"It was the first time I'd seen you in trousers, very nice you looked in them." He said with a devilish grin.
"Moving on…Who is my best friend?"
"Me, I would dare hope…"
"Well…" she started.
"Well. What?"
"I think Merlin has you in that regard." That earned a very attractive, yet childish pout on Arthur's part. He muttered something about being a twit and mucked stables…
"What is something you do that I wish you wouldn't?"
"Pick on Merlin?" He guessed.
"Well, I was think about how you drag me continuously into small hidden places to steal kisses, when I'm supposed to be at work, but…I guess that works too." She looked back at the paper. "What do we argue about the most?"
"The state of our future." He said somewhat solemnly.
"That is only because, you refuse to accept the fact that you will eventually move on, find your rightful queen, and that I will be left as nothing but a tiny figment of your past." She replied in the same tone.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I have never loved another, and that in time, things will change…Guinevere you will always be the queen of my heart."
"Until someone else, someone, noble takes your fancy." He was about to object. "Arthur, let us just agree to disagree." She said cutting him off. "Where did we meet?"
"Somewhere about the castle I suppose, I honestly don't remember." He said sheepishly.
"Neither do I. We were young anyway, it isn't really that important…What was your first impression of me?"
"That you were prettier than the average maid." He grinned at her third blush of the night.
"Where was our first date?" was the next question.
"Right here at this very table, you accused me of sounding like a pig."
"Only in your sleep, you considered that a date?"
"What did you consider it?" He asked
She thought about it "I don't really know…Where was our first kiss, and how was it?"
He pointed over to a spot by the door. "Right over there, and it was bloody amazing."
"I concur." She said remembering the first moment she felt as though she could fly. "When did you know I was the 'one'?"
"The minute my lips acquainted themselves with yours." She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.
"The final question, Who said 'I love you' first?"
"I believe that to have been me, I said that I would never love another, which context clues would lead you to know that I was saying that I love you."
"It wasn't direct." She said.
"At least it was something." He argued. She stood up, and walked over to where Arthur sat.
"Arthur Pendragon, I love you more than the very air that sustains my life, you are the very essence of my soul—" She didn't get to finish her sentence, because Arthur stood, and pulled her body flush against his, and brought his lips down to meet hers, soft, warm, and inviting. The rest of her words died, as she relaxed, and gave into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, her right hand locking into the short golden hairs on the back of his neck. Arthur placed his hands on her hips, bringing her impossibly closer. With they broke apart, her forehead rested against his as they both caught thier breath. "How was that?." She asked.
"Better, much better.." He replied, before claiming her lips again.
A/N: Well, that's done with, just another one-shot, if you read, PLEASE review, they feed my soul…O_o…