"You're back."

Merlin nodded, hovering out of reach of Arthur's outstretched hand. It was odd to see the King ill, to see his blue eyes dull and sad, to see his unaccustomed gesture of greeting, as if he were truly relieved to see Merlin. Merlin didn't like it.

The royal bed chamber was crammed with people eager to tend to their young King. Merlin was staggering tired, and jostled by the courtiers around Arthur's bed. He saw Gwen, her eyes tired. But even in sadness her beauty was intact. Merlin smiled at her.

"What of the Dread King?" Arthur asked then, swatting away the doctors and Gwen, who had come with extra pillows to prop Arthur's useless leg.

"He's gone," said Merlin. "I searched everywhere, to every border, and there's no sign of him." He saw Gwen's eyes widen in hope.

"Damn him," said Arthur.

"Surely that's good," said Gwen. She moved to place the pillow on the bed, but Arthur snapped at her.

"Leave it! If I'd wanted my leg up in the air like a turkey in a butcher's shop, I'd have asked!"

Gwen shrank back. "Yes my lord."

Merlin frowned. "I'd rather know where the Dread King is," he said to Arthur, including Gwen in his gaze.

"Yes," said Arthur. "So we can bring an army to his door and crush him flat." He spoke bitterly, his sword hand clenching and opening as if it already held the blade. But Merlin had talked to the doctors. Arthur was unlikely to led an army into battle again.

"What other news," Gwen asked quickly.

"Nothing much," Merlin said. "The whole kingdom wants you to get well."

"Hah," said Arthur.

"Loads of people gave me good luck charms and remedies for pain," Merlin said.

"Pain I can bear," Arthur said shortly. "Being completely pointless -"

"You're not," said Merlin.

"Go on then, show me what I can do to rule Camelot in this state." Arthur smacked his hand on the sheets beside his wrecked leg.

Merlin hesitated. "My only idea-" He eyed the roomful of onlookers meaningfully.

"Everybody out!" ordered Arthur. "Not you, where are you going?" to Gwen. "My leg hurts, where's that pillow? Right. Merlin. You look terrible. Gwen, pour him some wine. Now Merlin, tell me everything."

"Even the folk remedies?" Merlin asked as Gwen gave him wine with her sweet smile and a look which said she was as worried about Arthur as Merlin.

"Will they let me walk again?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

Merlin winced. "The main one was basically just to kiss it better. 'The blessing kiss given in secret and in openness, seen with closed eyes, in a silence that speaks, May heal the half to a whole.'"

Gwen, stuffing the new pillow under Arthur's leg in such a way as to move him as little as possible, frowned at Merlin across the bed. "How can something be open and secret?" she wondered.

"Or seen with closed eyes," agreed Merlin. "But it's an old, old saying in the border towns."

"Load of bloody nonsense," said Arthur. "I have the best sorcerer in the land and even he can't cure me." He stopped short and glanced at Merlin, with something of his old wry look, the nearest Arthur ever got to apology for hurting Merlin's feelings. "What else, waiting for a black cat to cross my path?"

"Pretty much," said Merlin with a smile.

"Then tell me how you got on with your other mission."

Gwen looked up from lifting Arthur's damaged leg onto the pillow. "What other mission?"

"I thought I told everyone to get out," Arthur said. "Also, ow."

"Sorry my lord." She flinched away, and hurried from the room.

"That was a bit harsh," said Merlin as the door closed behind Gwen. "She was helping you."

"Well," said Arthur. "Welcome to the new me."


It was late. Gwen carried a bundle of linen nonetheless. Nobody challenged her as she went modestly from the laundry to the royal family's private quarters.

Usually she might expect to find Merlin nearby, working healing magic on the King's wounds, or just fetching and carrying for him. But tonight Arthur had sent Merlin away until he was rested enough to be useful. It was a sort of kindness, Gwen reflected. Arthur found it hard to show appreciation, and whatever news Merlin brought had not improved Arthur's mood. Being dismissed to sleep was the most generosity Merlin could expect.

In the corridor outside Arthur's bedchamber, Gwen paused. Her armful of sheets seemed flimsy and implausible. She took a breath, and knocked on Arthur's door - the servants' knock, discreet double tap, which required no answer unless it was to keep out. But even so she tapped very quietly.

No cry came, and so Gwen entered the outer chamber. The fire was banked up in the hearth, smoking a little, and the King's perpetual fruit bowl stood on his dining table. But Arthur had not sat at this table for two weeks. Gwen glanced at the tray which held his dinner things. He had eaten, at least. She could not see a wine jug, which was good - drinking impaired recovery, Merlin said, and although Arthur had made some progress, he was still horribly immobile.

Gwen hugged the linen to her chest. If Arthur never stood again-

But she must have faith. Aa d grasp at any idea, however unlikely, which might help him on the path to standing, walking, riding, fighting. -Being the athletic young King they all loved.

She tiptoed to Arthur's inner chamber, her wooden-soled shoes nevertheless clacking on the stone floor.

The room was dim. Torchlight from the castle walls glinted through the window. The missing wine jug and cup were on a chest close to the bed. Gwen stood for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust.

Arthur lay spread across his pillows, his blonde hair pale against the crimson embroidered cushions, a sheet thrown over his damaged right leg and the other leg dangling, bare, off the side of the bed. He wore only his night shirt, open at the neck. Arthur's right arm was flung towards his small table and the sword which lay there.

His left arm lifted and pointed straight at Gwen. "Come in if you're coming," said Arthur.

She jumped. "I've brought you some -"

"No, you haven't. Come in!"

She dropped her excuses on the window seat. "I just -"

The outer door opened and a guard looked in. "Is all well, sire? I heard voices." He saw Gwen standing beside the King's bed and goggled.

"Linen change," said Arthur carelessly. "Leave me."

The man disappeared.

"Honestly, does anybody in this castle knock?" said Arthur. He shuffled to an upright position, lifting his bad leg with his hands. He tilted his head at Gwen. "Well?"

She slipped her feet from her shoes.

"Stealth," said Arthur. "Interesting."

"I think silence is best," Gwen said.

"Given it is past midnight -"

"Absolute silence," she added, loosing her cloak. It dropped to the floor in a satin sigh, and Arthur's mouth clamped shut on further comment.

Gwen pattered towards the bed. "Are you well?" she whispered.

"You're the one sneaking into my chamber at midnight, waking me from my restorative rest, you tell me." He spoke at normal volume, and made a grab for her hand.

"Hush!" She evaded him and leaned from the left side of the bed, to touch his brow. He was warm but not feverish. Good. "How's your wound?"

"Fine. Don't look." But she was already peeling away the blanket. Arthur heaved a sigh, and closed his eyes. He had had enough of his ruined leg and didn't need to see it now. He felt her weight on the edge of the bed as she leaned across, then her warm breath on his calf, then her lips on his bad knee in a fleeting kiss.

"Gw-"

Her hand flew to his face, covering his eyes. He sank back, wondering, as he felt again her kiss on his knee beside the damage done by the Dread King's steel. He spoke, muffled by her palm. "Gwen, what in the world -"

But a man does not question much when a beautiful woman comes to his room and kisses him, and so when she made no answer he allowed it, more than allowed it, her lips like a promise on the healing skin... Or like a blessing. Was that what this was?

He inhaled sharply as her mouth brushed his scarred thigh. The silk of her bodice pressed his good leg. He squeezed his eyes closed on the temptation to see her face, see how she looked as she bestowed these intimacies. Also he had to concentrate a little, for it was deeply erotic, if rather peculiar.

Her hand was delicate over his eyes, warning him to be still as she placed light kisses in a trail matching the line of his terrible cut. He could not be sure where the next kiss would land, or where she might stop, or if she might not stop... When her nose bruised a sore spot though, he had to reach down and guide her head away.

She lay her cheek against his good calf, and sighed lightly. Arthur was still drowsily warm, the fair hair on his shin tickling her face, and his hand was hot. She felt his hesitation as his long fingers cupped her scalp, and it gave her courage. She had meant to find him asleep, kiss his leg, and hope that the rest of the folk remedy made sense later. It was still a liberty to take with a king, but one she knew Arthur, if he woke, might forgive. This, though - the salt taste of his skin, the spicy scent of his expensive cleansing oils, and his bemused, waking compliance - this was dangerous, for any unmarried woman with a man, and much more so for her and the King.

If Arthur yelled to the guard now, it would be the end of her at court. But his fingers wound themselves in her hair, and his breath rose and fell like a drawing tide. Emboldened, she took her hand from his eyes, and brought her palm to rest on his hip, and felt his shiver.

Arthur's eyes were wide open now, Gwen's slight form crouched on the bed beside him, her dark hair soft over his knee, her hand stroking his bare thigh, her eyes closed, expression blissful. He opened his mouth as her hand trailed under his shirt, along his ribs, finding the bruises there. Words were suddenly troublesome. Her fingers cherished him, creating equal parts horror and delight.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. "I've never even kissed you!"

She laughed softly. He supposed it was a funny thing to say. But really, this was too much. Or not enough. He slid his hands under her arms to bring her to him.

"You're not supposed to move," she said archly.

"Bollocks to that." He hauled her bodily to eye level. She squeaked. Obviously, in her wanderings over his body, she had forgotten his strength. "You can't just walk in here and -" Her eyes were huge. She gazed at him, steady and with a faint smile. He cast aside his notional protests and drew his finger along her jaw.

"You love me," he said as her actions, and Merlin's old wives tale, knitted together in his bewildered brain. She had come here to cure him, not just as the loyal servant she had always been, not even as the friend he had come to trust - but as a woman wishing to care for a man. "I am such a fool." He shook his head. "How have I never seen that you love me?"

"A King is busy," she said. She traced his collar bone. "Also, you are a fool."

"You've got some nerve." He had her in the crook of his shield arm. She was trembling even more now than when he had kissed her for show, outside the Dread King's castle.

"Yes."

He leaned his cheek against hers, just gently, and then twisted so that they lay side by side. "You're in my bed," he pointed out.

"Mmn."

"Is this that cure Merlin was going on about?"

"It's not exactly in silence," she said.

"It's not exactly secret," he replied. "Did you really think I wouldn't wake up?"

"Maybe it doesn't have to be secret from you. It's secret from - them." She waved towards the door.

"Fair point. 'Seen with closed eyes'," he mused.

She looked at him patiently.

(Two minutes before, her right hand over his face, her mouth's touch sending tremors through him -) He hadn't seen, but he certainly knew she was there. "All right," he said.

"What about the silence that speaks?" she asked.

He frowned, then grinned. "Actually, I may not be as clever as Merlin, but I think I've got that one."

He leaned up on one elbow. "Guinevere."

"What-" Her question was halted by his hand, stroking her cheek.

She matched his gesture, running her fingers through his fringe - rather wonderful - and then touching his cheek.

He'd never yet kissed her, not properly. A kiss performed for onlookers does not count. She froze as his fingers travelled faintly over her earlobe and his thumb brushed her mouth, slightly parting her lips. She pressed her thumb to his lip likewise, good, permission was important - and then he bent and put his mouth to hers, nothing fake this time, no show, no flourish, just a man kissing a woman in his bed, and telling her in the only way he was any use at, that he loved her too.

She knew him, knew that action came naturally where words were hard. And she was kissing him back, was soft and warm and unafraid. Her hands crept over his back and around his waist. She tasted of sweet wine, and now he thought he could never taste it enough. The blue of her dress mingled with the red sheets rumpling around them. She smoothed her hands over his bad leg again, both legs, then his chest, and kissed him everywhere she touched; he kissed her neck, her collarbone, the hot skin over her heart. Her secret was now open to him, and yet still hidden from all others. And now she knew his last secret too, the shame of his injury overcome by her calm acceptance, and by the fact that with her in his arms, her passion and loveliness all for him, he could no longer resist.

They kissed and caressed for a long time until at last he drew back saying, "Enough, enough." He flung himself away, his left leg still entwined with her right. She turned her head to look at him. "We mustn't," Arthur said. He grimaced, pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's impossible."

"Yes."

Neither of them moved. He shifted in the bed and winced.

"What's wrong? Your leg?"

"No."

It was embarrassing to explain. "After a certain point a man can't - doesn't want to - stop."

"Oh. -That's the same for a woman," she pointed out.

He supposed it must be. What did he know? "Then, ah, would you like, would you mind?" How to ask such things, he didn't have the words. He found her hand, instead, and guided her.

"So then likewise," she said, amazing him. But Arthur had yet to fail at any physical challenge. He offered her his hand, open, and after a moment she took it and placed it where she wanted.

She giggled at first, then fell silent, worrying him until her gasp told him that his sword hand knew, as usual, what to do. She closed her eyes, her fingers tentative on him too, then learning. Her touch was astonishing, quite different from his own matter of fact approach: her sweetness and her reverence made him feel... A man, a whole man for the first time since his injury.

He watched her face, seeing his touch reflected in expressions playing across her lips and her fluttering eyelids. His novice hand followed where her gasps and jolts led, and knew she sought the same signs from him. They were easy to give, impossible not to give, and soon he clutched her hard, his cheek to her temple, his mouth gasping words he never planned. Her other arm was under him, digging into his spine but he didn't care. Her palm was slippery on him, was more intense pleasure than he had thought possible. "I love you," he said. "Guinevere. I love you." And then colours flew in front of his eyes, all the colours of Camelot, flags bright against a golden sky. Gwen held him tight, and spoke something too, his name, and all the flags fluttered away.


He propped himself on one elbow and poured her some wine into his cup. "Well," he said, passing it to her.

"Yes." She took the cup and drank, her eyes on him dark, and a little wary again. "That..." She gestured vaguely at the sheet tucked around their waists. "How did you know? What to do, how to..."

"Bluffing," said Arthur.

They laughed. Gwen kissed him then, fearlessly, a kiss of pure affection. He gave it back, and something more, a soldier's kiss, the kiss you could give a girl who shared your bed, and after a moment he removed the wine cup from her yielding fingers, shoved it at the table. and folded Gwen into his arms. The watch called two o'clock and Arthur's wound was quite forgotten.


(This may not be the end. Because nothing goes quite right in the course of true love. And because, whilst lying on a sunbed in Corfu last week, I have written more scenes from this AU which I cannot bear not to use. ;-) Watch this space. -Sef)