Title: Full Circle
Category: Het (Canon AU)
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, Merlin
Rating/Warnings: M (semi-graphic childbirth)
Summary: History threatens to repeat itself on what should be the happiest day of Arthur's life. Can a terrible tragedy be prevented? Or is the young king doomed to revisit his father's dark legacy?

- o - Part I: Guinevere - o -

Soft morning sunlight spilled over the horizon, bathing the slumbering city of Camelot in gentle hues of pink and gold. A new day was dawning, at the same moment that an unborn child stirred restlessly in his mother's womb, preparing to meet a world that eagerly awaited his coming.

Queen Guinevere whimpered in her sleep, one hand sliding down to cradle her distended belly as the contraction rippled through her body. She came fully awake when another one hit a few minutes later, biting her lip to keep from crying aloud as she carefully shifted into a sitting position and stared down at the man lying beside her.

Arthur lay sprawled out on his stomach, lost in the throes of deep, peaceful slumber. Gwen let out a quiet sigh, resisting the urge to wake him for a bit of reassurance. No, let him sleep, she told herself firmly. There's no need to wake him just yet.

She struggled to control her nervousness as she sat alone in the dimly lit chamber, trying not to think about how much pain she might have to endure before it would all be over. She'd been scared for weeks, although she never spoke a word about her fears to anyone else. Childbirth is the most natural thing in the world, Gwen, she would remind herself sternly. Women bear children every day.

And many die in the attempt, an ominous voice would always whisper in response.

Gwen would try and reassure herself that she'd have the best care in Camelot when her time came. Then she'd remember that the midwife had commented on how young and healthy she was, telling her that she shouldn't have any problems when it came time to deliver her child. None of it mattered. Her fears had persisted, and rose up to torment her more strongly than ever as suffered silently through what she assumed to be the early stages of labor.

What if I'm not strong enough to handle the pain? What if something goes wrong? What if the baby dies, or I do? Or worse, what if neither of us survives? Arthur will not be able to bear it. I can't let him down. I can't...

Anxiety battered her mind with a force that knocked the breath out of her, just as her muscles began to spasm with another contraction.

Oh, it hurts… She gingerly eased back down onto her side and curled up with both arms wrapped around the rigid mound of her stomach. Oh, this is already so much worse than I thought it would be.

She buried her face in a pillow and moaned low in her throat, trying to muffle the sound as tears began to seep from beneath the lids of her tightly closed eyes. I can't take it. Oh, I can't do this alone... her mind whimpered, just before the terrible pressure released her from its grip again.

Not yet, she reminded herself, feeling a little more rational as her body relaxed. Remember what the midwife said. This is going to take hours. There's no reason to disturb anyone quite yet, and it isn't so bad, really. Let Arthur rest a while longer. He's going to need it.

Gwen tried to lie still, but every muscle in her body screamed with the need to move. As she rose awkwardly to her feet and padded around the chamber, the motion began to ease the tension in her lower back somewhat. Then without warning, she cried aloud and doubled over in agony as a much stronger contraction ripped through her midsection, hitting her with the force of an earthquake compared with the previous tremors she'd felt.

When Arthur came awake at the sounds of her distress, he found her clinging to the bedpost to keep from falling, tears spilling down her cheeks as she panted and sobbed out a succession of incoherent pleas.

She heard her name spoken several times, then felt herself being lifted by strong arms that lay her gently on the bed. Beyond that, she wasn't aware of anything except the terrible pain that radiated outward from her belly, burning into her lower back and setting her legs to trembling so hard that she could feel her teeth chattering in her mouth. She heard herself let out a ragged gasp as the pressure began to ease, and then it was gone.

"Arthur," she whispered shakily, as the room came back into focus and she saw her husband's unusually pale face hovering above her. "You're awake."

"Of course I am," he retorted impatiently, somehow managing to look angry, worried, bewildered, and affectionate all at the same time. "When did it start, Guinevere? Why didn't you wake me up?"

She gave him a weak smile in response. "It only started at daybreak. The midwife said it's probably going to take hours. What was the harm in allowing you to sleep for a few more minutes?"

"Daybreak?!"

Arthur gasped incredulously, but her cry was far louder as another contraction slammed through her body. As the pain waxed and waned with an agonizing slowness, she heard herself keening like a wounded animal, unable to stop herself and not caring enough to try. She gripped the nearest solid object to brace herself against the pain, not realizing it was Arthur's arm until the spasms receded and she opened her eyes to see blood dripping from her fingers.

"I'm sorry," she panted breathlessly, touching the scratches she'd inflicted. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

Arthur only shook his head, reaching out with his other hand to stroke the sweat dampened curls back from her forehead. "Merlin has gone to fetch the midwife," he said softly. "Just try to rest while you can."

Gwen frowned in confusion. "How does Merlin know?"

"He burst in here just a few minutes ago when he heard you crying out," Arthur explained with an exasperated look. "Didn't knock, as usual, but I suppose I'll let him get away with it under the circumstances."

"You'd let him get away with it under any circumstances," Gwen replied with a faint smile as she rested her head against the pillows he'd propped up behind her. "Admit it, Arthur, you... Ohhh!"

She heard the chamber door open through a haze of pain, followed by an older woman's voice that brusquely ordered Arthur to step aside. "I'm sorry," she managed between heavy pants. "I-I would have t-told them not to send for you so s-soon if-if..." she trailed off, unable to continue.

The midwife ignored her, casting a furious look at Arthur instead. "How many hours has she been like this? Why wasn't I called for sooner?"

Gwen struggled to catch her breath as the sharply painful contraction faded into a dull, persistent ache. "Only since sunrise. Please, it's not his fault. I wanted to give everyone a few extra minutes to sleep, that's all. You said..."

"Sunrise was more than seven hours ago," the woman said shortly as she bustled over to the bed and threw the covers aside. "You, boy!" she called, jabbing a fat finger in the direction of the chamber door where Merlin stood with a rather alarmed expression on his face. "Scissors, heated water, towels, you know what I need. Get it, and quickly!"

As soon as Gwen's nightgown and underclothes were removed, she stared down in consternation at her naked body, taking in the sight of swollen breasts and cautiously running her hands over the impossibly huge, hard lump that had once been her stomach. The midwife probed between her thighs, then looked up with a nod of satisfaction.

"She's ready."

When the next contraction hit, Gwen opened her mouth and wailed, arching her back as her bare thighs fell apart of their own volition. And then she was pushing, guided by an instinct more powerful than anything she'd ever felt in her life. The agonizing pressure radiated downward in burning, aching waves, begging her muscles to bear down and follow it.

She submitted to her body's commands, clinging to the voices of encouragement that surrounded her as she struggled again and again to expel the child from her womb. She strained and pushed for what felt like hours, bearing down with every ounce of strength she had, with no result other than muscles that were swiftly beginning to tire from the constant exertion.

"The baby won't come," she sobbed brokenly as she collapsed in exhaustion against the pillows. "It's not moving."

A hand reached out to run a cool cloth over her forehead, dropping down to wipe the sheen of sweat from her neck, shoulders, and breasts. She sighed gratefully, opening her eyes to stare at Arthur's face above her. He looked haggard, drawn and pale, with a thick dusting of unshaven whiskers covering his jaw. With worry filled eyes, he gazed down at her lovingly as he tried to give her some small relief.

"It must be getting close now," he murmured softly, as Merlin moved around behind him lighting candles to greet the coming night. "I know you're tired, but you're going to need to keep pushing for a little longer. Just a few more minutes."

She wanted to tell him she had nothing left to give, but the pleading in his eyes stopped her short. Summoning a last bit of energy, she raised up on her elbows and drew her feet up close to her body, grunting and sobbing in helpless frustration as she gave several forceful pushes to no avail. She fell back against the pillows, then tried to rise again, only to realize she no longer had the strength to do so.

I'm going to die, she thought dully as she closed her eyes, too spent to even cry out in response to the agonizing pain that wracked her body. I can't do it. I can't.

"I don't understand," she heard the midwife say, as if from a great distance. "She should've delivered hours ago, and yet the baby hasn't even moved. It doesn't make any sense."

"You're supposed to be the best midwife in the kingdom!" Arthur snapped, the fury in his voice not quite managing to mask the fear that lay just beneath the surface. "What do you want? Tell me and I'll give it to you. Just deliver my queen safely, and half of Camelot will be yours."

"This isn't about payment," the woman murmured much more softly, as if trying to make sure Gwen wouldn't overhear. "All the gold and lands you might offer do not change the fact that she's bleeding heavily and grows weaker by the second. I wouldn't ask for a single copper to save her life if I knew what to do, but I don't. I'm sorry, sire."

"If she dies, you will be executed," Arthur spat coldly, and a chill of dread skittered down Gwen's spine. He sounded uncannily like his father when he spoke the words, a man who'd been driven mad by grief, destroying countless lives to avenge his own wife who'd died in childbirth.

No, Arthur! she wanted to scold him. You mustn't think that way. Please, whatever happens, do not use it as an excuse to inflict suffering upon innocent people.

She opened her mouth to speak, but all that emerged was a pitiful whimper as her body made one more feeble effort to deliver the baby that wouldn't come. With a bewildered look expression on her face, the midwife began to push on Gwen's rigid belly and probe between her legs again, which brought forth a weak protest against the painful invasion.

"Stop… Please… Hurts…"

When the woman withdrew her hand, it was covered in blood. "I don't understand," she muttered to herself over and over as she frowned in consternation. "I don't understand."

And then there was another voice, the sound of an old, familiar friend that brought Gwen comfort even in her agony. "Arthur?" Merlin questioned softly. "May I take a look?"

"Not now, Merlin," Arthur said shortly. "This is bad enough as it is, without you mucking it up any further."

"Arthur, please," Merlin responded, his voice gentle and persuasive. "I know I'm not a midwife, but I trained under the Court Physician for many years, before he..." he trailed off for a moment, and Gwen knew he was remembering the dear old man who'd passed away a few months before. "Well, anyway," he continued determinedly. "I may be able to help."

"Let him..." Gwen managed in a feeble whisper, finding it more and more difficult to focus on Arthur's grief stricken features. "Please."

Arthur consented with a curt nod, and then it was Merlin's face her bleary eyes saw hovering over her, a sweet, reassuring smile on his lips. He didn't push on her belly, causing her further pain as the midwife had done. Instead, he laid his hands upon her so gently that she could barely even feel his touch.

"The baby is turned the wrong way," he announced, without a trace of doubt in his voice.

"Boy, I've been a midwife for nearly three decades! If that were true, I would know it. I've examined the queen repeatedly, and it isn't..."

"There isn't time to argue," Merlin interrupted, the words soft and urgent. "If we want to save her life, we're going to have to turn the baby. There's no other choice."

Gwen didn't know whether Arthur took Merlin's side because he trusted his judgment, or if it were only due to the fact that he was offering some small hope where the midwife was not. She lay limp and helpless, fading in and out of consciousness as the woman reached between her trembling thighs and...

"Hold her down!"

A tormented scream emerged from her throat, blinded by white hot pain as her body fought to escape the terrible invasion. Strong arms held her firmly in place, and still she struggled, resisting with a desperate strength she didn't know she still had as she felt an awful shifting deep inside her.

"He's right," she heard the midwife murmur in quiet disbelief.

And then the world went black.