A[ril 2013
Beta: The amaaazing Hockeygirl28
Author's Note: Hello! My first peep into the Merlin fandom. Please read, review and enjoy!:)
Clink, squeak, squeak.
Gwen sighed as she bent low over the pile of jewelry before her on Morgana's table. The hour was already late and Morgana already abed, but her mistress needed the beautiful set of earrings, necklace and bracelet polished and perfect for a banquet on the morrow. Gwen frowned and squinted in the failing light- somehow, no matter how carefully she stored them, those intricate chains Morgana loved so much always managed to tangle themselves.
The sun was setting in earnest when Gwen finally replaced the jewelry in its carved wooden box, glanced once more at Morgana's sleeping figure, and slipped out of the lady's chambers. She drew her cotton cloak tighter about her as she hurried down the castle steps and bid the guards a pleasant evening, trying not to glance enviously at the broaches that held their fine, thick cloaks warm about their necks.
The knights pay for such luxuries by risking their lives, she scolded herself. Still, Gwen couldn't help but imagine how nice that scarlet wool must feel against the evening chill as she retrieved a pail of water from the well and lugged it home.
Nightfall found Gwen standing listlessly staring into the flames of the fire. She'd washed, wincing slightly as the cloth roughed her reddened skin (today had been washing day), sipped at some tea and then tidied up her already spotless cottage. Not that there was really much to tidy.
Gwen glanced to her awaiting bed in the corner. She was weary and sunrise would come early, but the thought of tossing and turning through uneasy dreams was less appealing than the inevitable fatigue she'd face upon the morn.
She was equally parts glad and surprised at the knock on the door.
"Milord," she half-gasped upon opening the door. Then again, who else would it have been?
"Guinevere." Prince Arthur leaned against the doorframe lazily, red shirt of the castle guard carelessly billowing around his powerful frame in the night air. "I was cutting through the castle gardens after patrol when I came upon the rose beds. I saw this one bloom, fairer than all the others, but hidden by briars and thorns. It made me…think of you," he finished a little awkwardly.
Endearingly so, Gwen thought. Arthur produced a large rose blossom from behind his back and pressed it into Gwen's hands. He hadn't been lying- the flower's petals were as sweet and fragrant as they were perfectly formed.
"Milord," Gwen gasped again. "Thank you. It's…beautiful." She gave a hurried curtsy and gestured him inside the cottage.
"Milady," Arthur said pompously, giving a dramatic bow. "Need we be so formal in private, Gwen?" he asked with a slightly wolfish grin.
"I'm sure I don't know, milord," Gwen said resolutely, tucking the rose into a vase filled with sprigs of lavender.
Still, she didn't protest when Arthur's sure hands found her shoulders and began teasing the knots out of neck with even strokes that left her melting against him.
"You're so tense one could bounce a coin off you," he murmured in her ear.
"Mmm," she groaned blissfully. "You try scrubbing red wine out of Morgana's white silk gown sometime."
His hands tiring, Arthur kissed the back of her smooth, elegant neck and Gwen turned in his arms to face him. She kissed him softly and rested her forehead on his shoulder, content to let herself relax for a just a moment. The fire crackled quietly.
"Guinevere," he breathed. "You deserve so much more than just a rose." He leaned back, letting his strong arms slip around her waist, and fixed that piercing, reassuring blue stare upon her.
"Someday you shall have the finest silk dresses- better than Morgana's. And jewels, and fresh flowers every day, and a purse filled with gold, and-
"Arthur." She shushed him by brushing her thumb gently over his lips. Gwen smiled at him, eyes sparkling with emotion she wasn't quite sure she was allowed to be feeling.
"All I'll ever want for is you," she whispered.
Arthur's earnest face relaxed into a smile. To both, the sweet kiss that followed was worth more than all the gold in Camelot.