Fill in the Blanks - 4x12: "The Sword and the Stone Part 1" – What are you doing here?
Slowly, almost imperceptible at first, then growing in to something irresistibly insistent, he felt himself being tugged from his dream, and with a slowly exhaled breath he opened his eyes to find himself on a cot in a firelit room. Someone – someone familiar, he knew that much – was caring for him, wiping his brow, changing the bandages around his injured abdomen. When he opened his eyes he thought, for a moment, that he was still dreaming, still back in the gauzy safety of his dream world, cocooned from the reality of misjudgement, betrayal and failure. But his sense told him otherwise, so despite the pain, he sat up slightly, drawn to the woman who sat penitently at his bedside. For a moment, neither spoke.
"Guinevere," he breathed.
A maelstrom of emotions washed across her face in a moment: fear, regret, sorrow and love.
"Hello Arthur."
His mouth hung slightly open, still processing her presence. Still awed, he awkwardly propped himself up even further. Questions filled his thoughts. The expected – 'hows' and 'whens' and 'whys', but at the back of them all, 'maybe?', 'perhaps?' and above all, 'can we?' Instead, all he could ask her was, "What are you doing here?"
She was desperately trying to retain her composure, despite the pounding at her chest that was so forceful she had to fight from being swayed by its tempo. She had longed for this moment for so long that now that it had arrived, she was rendered almost speechless. Here, before her, despite all that had happened, lay her Arthur. And when he spoke her name, gone was all trace of the anger, disappointment and dismissal that had flavoured them when they last spoke. She knew he still loved her, she did not know if he could ever acknowledge and act on that love again after her betrayal. But him being there, with her, had to be some kind of sign.
"What are you doing here?" It was not what he wanted to say, at least not how he wanted to say it. Arthur felt his words came out harsher, more detached and accusatory than he intended. And when he saw the brief look of hurt cross Guinevere's face, he knew she had sensed it too.
"It's as good a place as any." She couldn't read him and her fleeting courage began to fail her. He was looking at her in a way she had never seen before, and his tone was not one of warmth, or even surprise anymore, but of battling emotions of relief and condemnation. She became convinced she had misjudged, that she had overstepped and assumed too much. But even if he was to send her off once more, she had to tell him how she felt. If she told him now, it would not be the plaintive plea of a compromised woman. If she told him now how she felt, how grey and hollow her life had been since he had banished her from her home, and his heart, then he would at least see that whatever it was that had happened between her and Lancelot was not real . He would know that he alone had been at the core of her thoughts and none other. At least she could give him that much.
"I missed you" – because you are a part of me.
"And I you" – because you are a part of me.
With her words, all of his feelings of anger and betrayal were overwhelmed by his love and need of her. Everything had gone horribly wrong, and everyone, except Merlin, had betrayed him. Arthur looked into Guinevere's eyes and felt himself falling into the pool of regret, love, gratitude and relief that he saw there. He was overwhelmed, but strangely assured. Here she was, with him, when she had nothing to gain by staying and everything to lose. She chose him. Propping himself up even further, he leaned towards her and finally into her arms, the pain of his action salved by the balm of her embrace.