He'd never seen her cry before.
Liquid droplets leaked from her brown eyes and streamed leisurely down her cheeks, dropping on her dress, the material growing damper by the minute.
He had never seen her look so beautiful.
He thought that was a weird thought to have, thinking someone looked beautiful while they were evidently distressed or grieving. Most people looked a shambles; sick and worried. But Gwen looked like an angel.
He'd heard the other knight go on about how hysterical women get when they cry and to stay as far away as possible, but Arthur didn't understand why. Crying didn't scare him, it worried him.
What worried him more was that his Guinevere was crying and there was nothing he could do about it.
He couldn't cure Morgana, even though he'd very much like to. So he did the next best thing he could think of.
"Come here,"
His voice was low, he was afraid of startling her. She didn't look up at him but rose to her feet walking towards him. He opened his arms, almost instinctively and she settled into them nicely, fisting the material of his shirt.
The crying turned into heart wrenching sobs that hurt his ears. Not because they were loud, which they weren't at all, but because they were broken and hoarse.
He couldn't fix the pain. He felt helpless.
"I'm sorry,"
It escaped his lips before he could comprehend what he wanted to say. He felt like he was failing her, nothing should make Guinevere cry, nothing that Arthur couldn't fix.
She looked up him and smiled softly.
"I can't fix it, Gwen, I can't."
It almost sounded as if he were about to cry, his voice was hoarse and barely functioning properly.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," she whispered, her chin resting on his shoulder and her lips settling next to his ear, "You being with me fixes things perfectly."
For the first time all day, Arthur smiled.
x