Author's note: Set after 2x04, this is a short story about the immediate fallout of Gwen's kidnapping by Heingist, where both Arthur and Lancelot were there to rescue her. Based on cannon, with my imagination taking us off the beaten path just a tad.
Hope you enjoy! Would love to hear what you think so leave some feeback if you can!
The Light of Camelot
She had been rescued and returned home to her beloved Camelot.
She was once again safe, with friends, and among familiar things.
Still, Guinevere felt oddly out of place.
As if everything around her were dark and suffocating.
Dark as the dungeon that had been her prison; as suffocating as the certain death sentence that had hung over her head not two days before.
She stared out the stained-glass window of Morgana's bedchamber and relived the events of the past few days. Her life – almost lost, almost won, then almost lost again – seemed a very fragile thing.
As did her usually stable emotions.
They were all jumbled up inside. Disappointment warred with relief. Anger with gratitude. Dreams with reality. And the memories she could not shake dashed in and out of her thoughts, like a silent thief stealing her confidence and whisking away her sanity.
Guinevere closed her eyes against the images that assailed her.
A gallant smile filled with hope. A pair of blue eyes, dulled with hurt. Bold, passionate words and daring, passionate actions. And two names that viciously vied for pre-eminence in her thoughts.
Arthur. Lancelot. Lancelot. Arthur.
There was not enough air in the world to fill her lungs.
Or enough light to illuminate her heart's deepest truths.
"How are you feeling, Gwen?" Morgana's voice startled Gwen from her disturbing thoughts.
"Much better, thank you." Releasing a shaky breath, Gwen's smile was brief but sincere as she addressed Morgana. "And thank you for the bath, for letting me stay the night. For everything."
Sympathetic to Gwen's ordeal, Morgana gathered her maidservant – her friend's – hands in hers. "It was the least I could do after you sacrificed yourself to save me. I can only imagine how frightened you were."
"In truth, I've never felt so alone in my life. Not even when father died." Gwen confessed as she and Morgana turned from the window and made their way to a set of chairs by the fire. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't sent Arthur to rescue me, Morgana. So, thank you for that."
"I sent him? Is that what he told you?"
Guinevere nodded mutely, her gaze shifting to the flames crackling in the fireplace. Though the fire burned bright and warm, she felt a lonely chill settle in her bones. The memory of that moment left a bitter taste in her mouth. Unprompted, she expanded her response in a pained whisper. "His exact words were that he only came because you begged him."
"Well, that's a lie." Morgana scoffed.
Gwen's gaze cut sharply to Morgana. "What do you mean?"
"You know Uther. Even when I begged him for a rescue party, he wasn't willing to risk the lives of his knights to save a mere servant. And when Arthur agreed with him in front of the Council, I felt the need to confront him in his chambers with a few choice words."
Morgana offered Gwen a plate of fruit, which Gwen refused. Morgana placed the platter on the ornately-carved side table between them and continued, unaware that her audience of one was hanging breathlessly on every word. "Had I taken a moment before accusing him of being a gutless coward, I would have noticed that he was nearly packed and heading out of Camelot to find you."
A glimmer of hope sparked in Gwen's heart. "So, you didn't..."
"No, Gwen." Amused, Morgana leaned back in her chair with a proud smile. "Arthur was coming to find you whether I asked him or not. He only sided with Uther because he couldn't go against his father in public." She paused, her brow furrowing in contemplation as gazed, unseeing, into the fire. "Though I wonder why he didn't take the credit or the glory he deserves after such a daring and successful rescue."
A suffocating weight pressed painfully on Gwen's chest, against her heart. Her throat tightened and her dark eyes stung with fresh, hot tears as the new information twisted and turned in her gut.
"I am sure I do not know."
Even as she spoke the words, Guinevere knew the answer all too well.
Lancelot.
Yes, she knew the answer.
And though she was miles away from the danger of the dungeon, she felt the walls closing in on her just the same.
Closing in.
And extinguishing the light she'd once found in Camelot.
tbc...