Gwen approached her little home with eagerness. There had been a number of occasions over the last two days when she thought she might never see this precious place again. With a sigh of relief she closed the door firmly behind her and leant back on the door, eyes shut for a moment.
She was physically and emotionally exhausted – the idea of sleeping for a whole week was at the forefront of her mind. Morgana had insisted that Gwen should not attend her for the next couple of days, until she had fully recovered her strength. Somewhere in her fogginess Gwen realised that Morgana had been strangely quiet about asking for more details of what had happened, but Gwen didn't have the energy to analyse her mistress's mind at the moment. She was just grateful to have been able to slip away without having to relive any of her recent trauma. She was sure that Morgana's natural inquisitiveness would get the better of her very soon, and Gwen knew that she would have to decide how much information she was prepared to share about the events at Hengist's castle. But sleep first. Even Gaius had agreed that sleep was better than any tonic he could offer.
Gwen glanced down at her clothes. Morgana's dress was ruined. It was torn and filthy and smelt of horse. She dreaded to think about the colour of her skin and decided not to examine her hands too closely. She headed for the corner where her bed stood and started to undo the fastenings on the beautiful gown. It slid down to the floor, leaving her standing in her slip. Gwen left it in a heap on the floor and headed to her fire to heat some water to wash. Sleep would come more easily if she was clean.
Pausing at the dining table she saw immediately that the two plates from the palace kitchen were still waiting to be returned. It was over two weeks since Arthur had stayed at her home. Gwen smiled a half smile at the memory of the two of them sat at her table, the prince and the servant girl, talking like equals about all sorts of matters, great and small. She had confessed to herself that those plates had never found their way back to the kitchens because she was still enjoying the memories that they brought her. Maybe she should return them in the morning, as it wouldn't do to dwell on those memories any longer. Turning from the table, she reached for a bowl and filled it with warm water from the fire. She leant over the bowl and allowed her face to gently steam in the heat.
She started to wash gently with a fine face cloth that had once been Morgana's. She allowed herself the odd treat, especially when her mistress, who always demanded the finest of everything, turned things out that were certainly not past their best. Gwen loved this face cloth – it was so soft and the warm water was like a caress.
Feeling cleaner and a bit more human, Gwen headed for her bed, but, perching on the edge of the mattress, realised that sleep was far away. Her mind was still in a whirl. She leant back on her pillows and decided to give herself the luxury of some thinking time until she dozed off. The fact was she had no idea what was going on or how she felt. Really, it was almost comical. No men for years and then two along in two weeks. It wouldn't be so bad if either of them were available, but neither of them were able to be hers.
So, Arthur first. Wasn't it always Arthur first? She had committed every part of their conversations in this room to her memory and could still feel his kiss when she closed her eyes. He may be arrogant, but Gwen knew just how strong, brave and kind he could be. To think that he had flouted his father's command, and come all that way to rescue her. That thought threatened to overwhelm her and she swallowed hard – how must he feel about her to run such a risk? But then Arthur himself had told her that there was no way they could be together and she understood that. Uther would never agree to Arthur marrying anyone less than a princess. Gwen had assumed that that was Arthur's way of telling her that the kiss was a mistake. She had been diligent at taking the hint and had spent the last two weeks trying to avoid Arthur, and if that were impossible, to at least avoid looking at him. She couldn't eradicate her feelings for him, but she could make the situation easier for them both by melting into the background as much as possible and making Arthur think she wasn't pining away for him. But the events of the last two days had made it seem as though Arthur was having a similar struggle to remove her from his thoughts. What troubled her most was the look on his face, when he saw Lancelot take her hand. He had looked so terribly wounded. And the awful silence on the way home – Gwen knew that Arthur could be cold and cruel when necessary, but he had never shown that towards her before.
Gwen have herself a mental shake and said out loud, "For goodness sake, girl. It CAN NEVER BE. Whatever his motives in rescuing you, Arthur can never be the one. Be grateful for his help, but there it ends.'
She settled back into her pillow. So... Lancelot. She admitted ruefully that she had become a bit carried away by the romance and danger of the situation – not that he wasn't gorgeous. Oh no. Far from it! And definitely a more appropriate match for her situation. In another world, he could really have been the one. 'I'd die a thousand times for you' – she couldn't help but let out a lovestruck kind of sigh. But here she was, left wondering if Lancelot had just been a figment of her imagination. He had evaporated into the night, leaving Merlin to explain. Where was his courage then? What bravery, when he couldn't even face her to explain his reasons and say goodbye? And now she had no idea where he was or if she would ever see him again.
Strangely, she was unable to summon up any tears at that thought. She had shed enough in the forest, trailing along behind a silent Arthur, on Merlin's horse. Her sadness turned to anger when she thought of Lancelot now. If all those things he had said to her were true, then where was he?
She closed her eyes, trying to remember Lancelot's soft expression when he looked her and his passionate kiss. But try as she might, those dark brown eyes kept turning to cool blue, and the curly brown hair, to blond.
Gwen realised, sitting in the warmth and safety of her home, that Arthur's actions had been the most romantic and daring. He had had the most to lose in trying to save her and yet he had thrown all of that responsibility to one side for her. Gwen opened her eyes wide. And how had she repayed him? Not even a real word of thanks. She gulped and tears sprang to her eyes. She had behaved terribly towards him. All that way home together and she had not even tried to converse with him! And Merlin had tried so hard to get them to talk together. Things were even worse now than they had been before. Meeting each other had been a little awkward but she had known she would get a warm smile if she caught his eye. That warmth was all gone, and she'd be lucky if he ever spoke to her again. How could she ever set things right with him? She shook her head despairingly.
Gwen realised that this maudlin turn of thought was not going to help her right now. Time for sleep, and also, she thought bitterly, time to renounce all men. "Tomorrow is a new day, with no men in it" she said out loud, punched her pillow hard and closed her eyes hard, willing a dreamless sleep to come soon.