"It is not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons."
^*^*^
The silk ran like water through her fingers, and Gwen wondered if she'd ever really get used to all this finery. She had been born to a baker's daughter and her husband the local blacksmith- the nicest things Guinevere ever owned had been second hand at best, but now- now everything was different. She was expected to have the highest quality of dresses, the grandest of jewels, the softest of bed linens; everything suitable for a Queen of Camelot. Not that she could say she minded. The extravagance was sometimes too much, and when Gwen felt that too much was being spent on her comfort, she would tell Arthur and he would smile and set everything right again. But for the most part, the maid turned monarch enjoyed the slight excesses, especially if she got to enjoy them with her husband by her side.
So standing as she was, in front of the gilded full length mirror in her and Arthur's chambers, Gwen smiled as she stroked the deep blue satin of her gown. The colour was a particular favourite of hers, the shade of midnight and of the lakes around the kingdom. Only a few tones darker than his eyes. Her curls had been stretched out, hanging longer and looser around her face, the thin silver crown sitting delicately on her head. She had even put on a silver cuff, winding around her arm in a snake-like pattern; a gift from a visiting Nobleman. Normally, Gwen never took such an effort over her attire, and why would she when there were so many other things that seemed more pressing or amusing? But she was still a woman- a diplomat, a councillor, a Queen; but a woman all the same. And it was fun to look pretty once in a while.
Besides, tonight was important. It was the Winter Festival, and the first official banquet since Arthur had been made High King of Albion. Camelot was overflowing with Lords and Ladies and Knights and Dignitaries from the far corners of the Isle, and as their capital, their seat of power, it was essential that the kingdom looked perfect. Arthur would never admit it, but he was nervous. It wasn't so obvious that anyone could see it, but Gwen could. She could see it in his strained smiles, and anxious pacing and the tension he held around his shoulders. He would return to their bed at night still stressed and overly tired from playing the King all day, and Gwen would try to ease his tension as he wrapped himself around her middle.
She would always do her best to share the burdens of his office, and he in his turn would consult and confide in her. But there were some things that Gwen felt she had to keep to herself- at least for the time being. She absentmindedly ran a hand over the flat plane of her abdomen, wondering how long she would have before it started to show. According to Gaius, Gwen was already 1 month gone, which would explain the morning sickness, the sleepiness and the hunger pains- but as of yet, no bump. She couldn't help the upturn of her lips as she thought of the life she was carrying inside her- a perfect combination of her and Arthur. A baby and an heir so early on into their marriage. After all, Arthur had only been King for 6 months, they'd been together less than that, and now she was expecting. But the timing was pretty bad; she wasn't sure she was ready to be a mother, at just 21, Arthur only two years her senior, Gwen wasn't sure on anything. Gaius had told her that when it happens, she'll know what to do- but that didn't stop the queries running through her mind.
How could she tell Arthur when he was only just finding his feet? He was King, commander of endless armies, leader of knights, and now...a father? Gwen wouldn't give him one more thing to worry about.
"My Lady?" Eleanor peeped her head around the corner of the door, glancing around anxiously for her mistress. The first change that Guinevere had to get used to was having her own maid servant. In the beginning she found it hard, not so much in having an extra pair of hands to help out, but in the reminder it brought of her own late Lady- it seemed that lately, Morgana was never far from her thoughts. She hoped this was some sort of sign that her friend would return to them soon- now that Uther was dead and Arthur was in control.
"Come in Eleanor. I'm nearly done." The girl let out a sigh and ran to Gwen, eyes scrutinising her dress and hair, looking to see what she could do to improve it.
"Why didn't you call for me, My Lady?" Eleanor smoothed out invisible creases in the silk and brushed at some loose curls, "It is my job to look after you, though you seem intent on depriving me of it."
"I am quite capable of dressing myself." She smiled back. "Are the guests in the hall?"
"Oh yes!" The maid beamed and ran to get some more rose petals for Gwen's rouge, "I've never seen so many nobles in one place. The Lords all insist on having their top knights with them, the Ladies all drowning in scented velvets and feathers- like peacocks..."
Gwen laughed, grateful that she had the same easy rapport with her own servant as she once enjoyed. And with one last glance in the mirror, and a final appraisal from Eleanor, Gwen looked to the door. "I guess we should go greet them then."
^*^*^
True to Eleanor's word, the halls of the castle were full of people. Gwen only had to step out of her quarters to become immersed in a throng of ladies and knights, each bowing lowly as they caught a glimpse of the young Queen. And so slowly, but surely, she meandered her way to the royal gardens, were Arthur had said to meet him before they entered the feast. Along the way, she saw a few familiar faces- noblewomen that she had once served, Lords who had attended jousting tournaments and of course Camelot's finest- Sir Leon and Gareth and Owain, each offering a smile and bow of their own. Until the walls finally opened and she was welcomed with the smells of the flowers and the sight of Arthur, stood idly by the lily blossoms underneath the moon beams. Even toying with the petal and scuffing his feet, Gwen thought he still looked every inch the King. The sound of her footfall on the cobbles made him look up, and the smile on his face reminded her that she hadn't seen him since this morning.
"Guinevere," he whispered, pulling her hand to him and kissing her wrist. "I thought you'd stood me up."
"I've missed you." She beamed as he cupped her cheek and she pulled at his shirt to bring him nearer.
"I know. I'm sorry, I've been busy with Lord Mark of Cornwall, apparently he isn't completely satisfied with the lands he's been reallocated; he claims it's a lack of harvest demands when really he just wants more villages to tax." Arthur laughed but she could hear the weariness in it. The torrent of demands he'd been assailed with had taken effect on his eyes, they were duller and dryer than Gwen liked to see. So she did all she could in the present situation and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth, pouring all the things she couldn't say into it. And from the way he relaxed and pressed back, Gwen knew he appreciated it. He finally broke from it, taking a moment to step back from her, and grinned.
"You look breath taking." The wistful look on his face and the slight sigh on his lips made a heavy blush rise to Gwen's cheek. "I can see I'm going to have to keep you next to me all night. Don't want any rogue Duke's stealing you off."
"Mmmm...Maybe I'd go willingly, if he was handsome enough." She teased, making him draw her close again.
"Don't joke." He growled. "I don't suppose we could just go hide somewhere, let the nobles entertain themselves?"
Gwen just looped her arm though his, pulling him toward the courtyard and giggling. "Come now, My Lord. The people need their King."
^*^*^
The banquet went on far too long, and halfway through Gwen was feeling the effects of dancing in an overpopulated room. It was suffocating, the heat from the torches and candle lights making her dizzy. She watched as other noblewomen pranced in their heavy garb and wondered how on earth they did it- but she was sure that her present 'condition' wasn't helping much. Pregnancy, as she was quickly learning, intensified every kind of sensation, from hunger to heat to drowsiness, it was like her body was magnifying it all. And of course, as Queen, it was her duty to dance with every nobleman that asked- much to the displeasure of Arthur, who sat brooding during said dances and made a point of having her close at most times. It surprised her how, after everything they had been through to get here, Arthur was still convinced that something or someone would take her away.
"Guinevere?" Arthur touched at her elbow, leaning causally over her throne, goblet in hand. His stance seemed relaxed but there was an anxiety in his eyes. "Are you alright? You look a bit pale..."
"I'm fine." She forced a smile on her lips, which did nothing to fool him, but just spurred on his worry.
"If you want, you can rest. I know these things can get rather wearisome, and I don't want you ill-"
"I am quite well, I promise. And I'm not abandoning you."
"Well, I do have Merlin," Arthur indicated to the newly ordained High Sorcerer of Albion, currently swaying with a belly full of cider, sparks jumping from his finger tips and making a crowd of knights' gape.
"All the same..." she laughed and stood to take his arm, "I think I'll stay." She curled an arm around her stomach, as her husband led her once more to the dance. The heat and the crowds may be sweltering, but the feel of his hand at her waist made it all worthwhile.