A Moment of Peace
A/N A moment between Arthur and Guinevere after Uther's death in The Wicked Day
Arthur Pendragon sat at the head of the long table in his chambers, the darkness of the night surrounding him. He rested his head on the back of his chair and tried to think, but his mind kept replaying the same memory over and over again.
For one moment, when Uther woke and smiled at him, Arthur had allowed himself to think everything would be all right. He'd gone against everything he'd ever been told about magic, how evil it was and how it caused nothing but pain, to try to save his father's life, and for one glorious moment he thought he'd done the right thing. Then, in an instant, Uther's face changed. The smile he'd worn just seconds before slid away like raindrops on a window pane and his eyes filled with fear. Before Arthur could even think what was happening, Uther's face became a still mask and he was dead.
Now Arthur sat alone in the dark, the image of his father's face as death consumed him burned into his memory, whilst somewhere deep inside him the knowledge that he was now King of Camelot began to grow. The realisation brought a feeling of panic. He wasn't ready, he told himself, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. He was too young, too inexperienced to command the respect the King's of the surrounding kingdoms felt for Uther. They'd see him as a boy playing at being King and they would use it to their advantage to mount an invasion, and what of his own people? They'd feared his father; Arthur wasn't naive enough to think otherwise. Uther had ruled his kingdom with an iron grip and his people obeyed his every decree because they knew what would happen if they didn't. Was he, Arthur, ready to rule? Would his people invest trust and faith in him to lead them through whatever lay ahead, or would they think him a child, unfit to lead his people and to protect them from all manner of evils as he childishly clung to the image of Camelot he'd longed for so long to create, a place where all were treated with respect no matter what their position and status?
Just as Arthur's panic seemed to grow and he sank deeper into his chair at the head of the table, the silence of the room was broken by a knock at the door. Arthur sat up. It couldn't be Merlin, he never knocked, and Arthur doubted his manservant would start now. It could be Gaius, he mused, but then the old physician was preparing his father's body for the traditional vigil he would hold through the hours of the night, so Arthur doubted.
"Arthur, may I come in?"
A familiar voice reached Arthur's ears from behind the door and Arthur sighed in spite of himself. He should have known she would come. Guinevere. Suddenly the weight of Arthur's grief and the confused feelings it brought, as well as his fear of all responsibilities that stretched in front of him, shifted a little.
Before Arthur could form a response, the door to his chamber opened and Guinevere quietly crept inside. As she entered, a shaft of light from the torch-lit hallway cast a glow into the room and Arthur blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. It slipped away as Guinevere closed the door. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed again as the room was consumed in darkness once more.
"Arthur?" Guinevere peered through the darkness of the room. Arthur watched as Guinevere strained to catch sight of him.
"Guinevere," Arthur said her name softly so as not to startle her. He wondered at the way her name always sounded like a prayer on his lips. Even now, when he barely recognised the sound of his own voice as grief and tiredness clung to him, Guinevere's name was a longing, a hope, something certain to hold on to on the unknown path ahead.
Arthur watched as Guinevere made out his shape in the darkness of the room. He noticed how uncertain she looked, as if she wasn't sure she was wanted.
"I – I didn't mean to disturb you," Guinevere stammered uncertainly, "If you'd rather be alone I can...I just...I had to come." She grew quiet.
Guinevere's presence, even in her nervous state, was a balm on Arthur's heart. His racing mind stilled for a moment and the aching heaviness of his grief lightened as the familiar habits of Guinevere's uncertainty created a warm glow inside him.
"Arthur, may I light the fire and some candles, I just want to see you, just so I know you're all right."
Part of Arthur wanted to say he was all right, that she didn't need to worry about him, but he knew if he did he would hurt her feelings and she would go, leaving him alone in the dark, so he nodded. "Thank you, yes, of course," he sighed. "I think Merlin would have lit the candles by now usually. I think he's with Gaius, helping to prepare my father...' A wave of emotion suddenly caught Arthur and he swallowed hard. He forced himself to regain control and went on. "I think he's helping to prepare my father's body for the vigil I must hold tonight."
Guinevere heard the emotion in Arthur's voice. She heard him as he fought with himself to hold his feelings in check and her heart ached for him. Instead of replying, she took the kindling she held in her hand and went to the fireplace. She worked quickly and soon the room was lit by the flames as they danced in the grate. Then, taking a taper from the mantel and lighting it, Guinevere went around the room and lit the candles, casting a soft light around the chamber.
When the room was bathed in the warm light from the candles, Guinevere extinguished the taper and returned it to the mantelpiece. Then she turned and stood at the end of the table, gently gripped the back of the chair in front of her and faced Arthur. She took in his face, the red rims around his eyes, the dark shadows beneath. Tiredness seemed to come off him in waves. He put his hands on the arms of his chair and went to rise, but he seemed to lack the strength. He remained seated, his hands suddenly gripping the arms of his chair like a vice. Guinevere took in the way his hands shook slightly and ached to comfort him, but she knew from painful experience that just now there was no comfort for the sorrow he felt.
"I'm so sorry Arthur," Guinevere said, after a moment of wondering what to say. She knew very well that she felt no pain over Uther's death. She was honest enough to herself to admit that she'd had moments in her life when she'd wished Uther dead, but now, looking at Arthur, seeing the loss he was enduring over the death of the only parent he had ever known, Guinevere was truly saddened. Whatever Uther was, he was still Arthur's father. That mattered just now more than anything else.
Arthur nodded heavily. "Thank you, that means more to me than I can say." Arthur knew very well how Guinevere felt about his father. He knew she would feel no grief of her own. In spite of that she'd cared enough to come and show sympathy in his grief, because of him. If Arthur could have expressed it, he would have said he'd never been more grateful or loved Guinevere more than at this moment. He stayed silent and hoped she would understand that the moment wasn't right, not yet.
"Is there anything I can do for you, anything you need? Guinevere cut across Arthur's train of thought. "I know there are no words I can say that will make the days ahead easier, but I want to help you Arthur, if I can." A tiny hint of an unsteady smile crossed her lips. It disappeared as quickly as it came.
Arthur Pendragon heaved a deep sigh and shook his head, his face an image of bewilderment. "I just need to understand what happened. I mean, he woke up, he was looking at me. He smiled at me Guinevere. He smiled at me, and then his face changed. All of a sudden he was in pain and struggling to breathe, and then...' Arthur broke off abruptly as his feelings caught up with him. He blinked rapidly against the tears that threatened to fall.
"Oh, Arthur," Guinevere crossed the distance of the table between them and stood by his chair. She longed to reach for him, to hold him in her arms and soothe the torment in his eyes, but he was still fighting to regain his composure. Guinevere knew all too well, if she held Arthur now he would push his feelings away and lose himself in her, but she sensed that he needed to talk now, needed to express himself, and pushing his emotions away was not the answer.
"I don't...I don't think I can do it Gwen," Arthur trembled as he spoke and the grief in his gaze was tinged with fear. His grip on the arms of his chair tightened until his knuckles turned white. "When...when my father was stabbed...before anyone came to help and he was in my arms...I told him, told him I'm not ready to be King." Arthur stared off into the distance as he spoke, as if in a world of his own.
"He said I am; he said he thought I've been ready for a long time, but I don't believe it. How can my father be dead and how can I be King?" Arthur's voice was strained under the weight of his anguish.
Guinevere dropped to her knees at Arthur's side and placed her hands on his forearm. Arthur turned towards her touch. Tears burned in his eyes as he reached across with his other arm and grasped one of her hands in his. He held it against his chest and closed his eyes as a sob tore from him and the tears he'd fought so hard to control broke free.
Guinevere could feel Arthur's heartbeat under her hand, pounding furiously. She watched as he began to fall apart and give free rein to his pain. "Arthur," she whispered his name brokenly as her own tears began to fall, not for Uther, but for him.
"How can I be King?" Arthur repeated, weeping openly now, his blue eyes an ocean of agony. "How can I lead Camelot and protect the people? How can I make decisions when half the time I don't even know what's right? People will look to me for certainty Guinevere, for decisiveness. How can I give them that when I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing?" Arthur shook his head and another sob broke from him. He gripped Guinevere's hand against him as if she was his only anchor in a world that was spinning around him.
"You can do it Arthur," Guinevere spoke with strength in spite of her own tears. "You've trained for this moment all your life. You've led the knights into battle so many times, and you've succeeded, even when others thought you would fail. I know you can do this."
Arthur heaved a sigh and shook his head resignedly. "Leading the knights is not the same as leading the kingdom Gwen. The people will look to me for assurance and confidence as the knights do, of course, but in battle we all fight together for the right outcome. I will be the one making decisions for the people as King. I have no idea how I can do that."
Guinevere smiled benevolently at Arthur. "You've been leading your people since your father became ill. You've made decisions and acted upon them. You've kept the kingdom safe. The people have looked to you Arthur, not to your father, for months, and you have given them assurance." She lifted her chin as she spoke, her tone decisive and strong.
Arthur clasped Guinevere's hand closer, moved beyond words by her attempt to strengthen him. Still, his doubts and fears still lingered. Years of having his every action questioned and every decision made for him by his father played in Arthur's mind. Now his father was gone, all the decisions would have to be his alone. It was a huge shift.
"Arthur, I... I lied to you once," Guinevere stammered. Arthur looked up at her, a bemused frown on his face. Self consciously, she turned her gaze towards their clasped hands against the thumping of his heart.
Arthur's frown slipped away and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "I bet you've never told a lie in your life." In spite of his grief his smile became a warm grin.
Guinevere rolled her eyes and smiled with him, glad to have lightened his mood a little. Then she became more serious. "I lied to you, just once, years ago."
Arthur's face straightened, "When?"
Guinevere sighed, "When you were bitten by the Questing Beast."
Arthur tried to turn his mind back through the years. That time was still hazy, clouded by the distortion of a burning fever. The only thing that was clear was the sound of Guinevere's voice as it cut through the darkness and pulled him back to life.
When Arthur looked back, he knew the moment everything changed was when Guinevere challenged his behaviour to the villagers in Ealdor, when he'd turned his nose up at their meagre food. No one had ever spoken to him the way Guinevere did that day. He'd wondered at the time how a handmaiden could have made him feel more ashamed of his behaviour than any lecture his father had ever given him. Then he was bitten by the Questing Beast and his life hung in the balance. Even now, years later, Arthur had no recollection of that time other than Guinevere's gentle touch and the sound of her voice. From that moment on she'd been a consistent presence in his mind. Arthur found himself thinking of her more and more, not as a servant, but as a woman. He told himself there was nothing to it of course, he'd just become fascinated by this woman because she stood up to him when even his knights did not, but deep down he knew even then it wasn't true. Then, when his life was threatened and he ended up staying in her home she'd challenged his behaviour again. It was when he was leaving, preparing himself to go back to his own life, that Arthur couldn't help himself. Without thought for the consequences, without thinking about what it might mean, Arthur kissed Guinevere. Arthur remembered that day vividly. He recalled Guinevere's soft, sweet lips on his. He remembered the heat from the sun as it shone through Guinevere's window, and he remembered feeling more alive in that moment than he'd felt in his life up to that point.
"I told you," Guinevere went on, interrupting Arthur's reverie, "I was just tending your fever that night, but it wasn't true, not quite." She slipped her hand out of Arthur's and wrung her hands slightly as she spoke, a familiar habit she had when she was agitated.
Arthur's mouth curved into a wry smile. "I've always known you said something that night. I was delirious, not deaf."
Guinevere rolled her eyes again at Arthur's teasing tone. As the years had gone by he'd changed so much, she mused, feeling a rush of pride as she thought of how he'd transformed from an arrogant prince into the man he now was as he took his place on the throne. Still, in spite of his maturity he did still love to be right.
"So, what did you say to me?" Amusement still dripped from Arthur's voice and danced in his tired eyes.
Guinevere sighed; it was too late to go back now. "I said you weren't going to die. I told you I knew you would be king one day...a greater king than your father could ever be, and I said that's what kept me going..." Guinevere watched Arthur's face as she spoke, waiting for him to be offended or hurt by her words, but he never said a word. He just sat and gazed at her with warm affectionate eyes as he listened.
"I told you you were going to live to be the man I've seen inside you. I told you I could see a Camelot that is fair and just. I could see a King that the people will love and be proud to call their Sovereign, and then I told you, you had to live." Then Guinevere closed her mouth and waited for Arthur to respond.
"You..." Arthur stopped and swallowed hard. The humour had died on his lips as Guinevere spoke. Now they trembled with emotion of another sort as he realised what Guinevere was saying. "You really did never lose faith in me, did you?"
Guinevere shook her head firmly. "No, I haven't." She met Arthur's gaze unflinchingly, determined to give him the belief in himself that she'd known in him for years.
Arthur's brows arched as he considered what Guinevere said. Memories of so many moments with Guinevere passed through his mind. Through the years she'd chastised him, argued with him and questioned his behaviour and actions, but she'd never once relented in her faith in him, not even when he failed her when her father was executed.
"Even now?" Arthur asked softly, taking her hand again and holding it over his heart once more.
Guinevere nodded solemnly and her eyes shone in the candle light. "Especially now," she gifted him with a watery smile. She blinked rapidly and collected herself. "And it's not just me. Your people believe in you Arthur, they always have, and they want to help you make Camelot great." She held her hand flat against his thumping heart as she spoke, as if her touch was a promise.
It was strange, Arthur mused, as he placed his hand over Guinevere's and gripped. Uther had pushed, cajoled and outright ordered his son to do things through the years, things he thought would make Arthur a good King and would be for the good of the Kingdom. What he had never done was give Arthur the belief in himself that he could be the King Camelot needed. In a few short words Guinevere had confirmed her faith in him and made him realise the people were on his side. It was all he needed to hear...Except...
Arthur cleared his throat and then spoke again. "Look, Guinevere, about us, about the future, I..."
Guinevere shook her head, her gaze suddenly sad and went to pull her hand out of Arthur's hold as she tried to rise to her feet, every instinct she had telling her to get out of that room and put some distance between herself and the new King. "Look Sire, if things have to change between us now I don't..." She used the honorific automatically, sensing the worst and wanting to make it easier for him.
Seeing the desire to flee the room in her eyes, Arthur held Guinevere's hand tighter against him and flinched at the use of the formality. "So, you have lost faith in me after all." He couldn't keep the disappointment out of his tone.
Guinevere's eyes widened. "No, of course I haven't, I just...I just knew this moment would come one day. You will be a great King and I..."
"And I want no Queen beside me but you," Arthur interrupted firmly, cutting off Guinevere's words as she tried to remind him once more of her apparent unsuitability to be his Queen, an unsuitability he did not agree with for a moment.
Guinevere's mouth fell open momentarily. She closed it hurriedly, her teeth clicking together in the otherwise silent room. "You...what?" She knew she sounded ridiculous, but she couldn't help herself.
In any other moment the stunned disbelief on Guinevere's face would have amused Arthur greatly, but now was not the time.
"I was just going to say that I promised you once that when I'm King things would be different, we will be together, do you remember?"
Guinevere nodded gravely, reminded of that awful time when she'd feared for her life because Uther had convinced himself she'd used witchcraft to enchant Arthur into falling in love with her. When it was over he had given her his promise. "Of course I remember," she replied huskily, tears lingering in her voice. The urge to leave the room fled, replaced by a need to stay and see what Arthur had to say.
Arthur nodded and his hold on Guinevere's hand changed to something tender again as he saw the desire to flee the room die in her eyes. He sighed heavily in relief.
"I meant what I said that day Guinevere." Arthur went on, his tone gentle and yet firm. "I would still give up my place on the throne to be with you."
"But it's your throne now Arthur, your people need you here, in Camelot."
Arthur nodded again. "Which is why I need to ask you to wait for me Guinevere, just for a little longer." He looked at her hopefully from his place at the table. "If I could I would announce our betrothal now, but I think I need some time to get used to being King. I want to show everyone that I can be trusted and that I take my responsibilities to the Kingdom seriously."
Guinevere nodded solemnly and reached up to place a loving hand on his cheek. Her heart pounded when he leaned into her touch and then turned his head to plant a soft kiss on her palm. "I do understand Arthur, and I will wait for you. I'll wait as long as it takes." She gifted him with a tender smile.
"It's not just the change in my position though. I want people to see I'm serious about you too. We've had to be secretive for so long Guinevere and I want that to change. I want to be seen with you. I want us to walk in the market place together without fear of discovery. I want the court to see you beside me and know that it's your place. I want people to see I'm yours and that you will be my Queen."
Guinevere frowned suddenly. She'd waited for so long to not have to hide her feelings for Arthur away, the thought of being so public was strangely nerve-wracking. Then there was the Council. Being out in the open and accepted by people she'd lived amongst all her life as a future Queen was probably going to be hard enough, being accepted as such by the Council seemed impossible.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, seeing the way Guinevere's face had become downcast.
Guinevere sighed awkwardly. "I just...I've lived amongst the people of the lower town all my life. They love you and they will want you to be happy, but seeing me go from one of them to the future Queen might not be as easy as you think, and then there is your Council. I'm a servant Arthur. I know I spent that time nursing your father when he was ill, but I'm still a servant as far as the Council is concerned. I've served food and drinks at Council meetings, how will they react to you announcing that I'm going to be your Queen?"
Arthur's features darkened in the way Gwen knew so well when he was annoyed. It was the one time he resembled his father. He pulled out of her caress and sat up straighter, glowering. "I don't care what they think, I'm the King now and I can do what I like."
Guinevere was reminded of the petulant show off Arthur used to be when he behaved like this. As much as she loved him, this side of him was exactly like Uther, unbending, uncompromising and unreasonable.
"So you intend to parade me around and demand that your people and your Council just get used to it, is that it? Because if it is Arthur, let me tell you I..."
Suddenly Arthur realised what he'd done. He closed his eyes as Guinevere's voice turned sharp. He knew she'd be anxious about them making their relationship public. He couldn't really argue with her concerns either, but instead of listening to her he'd become high-handed. It was, he knew, exactly what his father would have done.
When Guinevere stopped speaking, Arthur opened his eyes. Guinevere was chewing her lip nervously, perhaps thinking she had gone too far. "I'm sorry," he sighed heavily. "I didn't mean to sound...well, like my father about it." He coloured as shame in his behaviour flooded him. "I just want us to be together Guinevere. I want us to be seen together, so I can show the whole Kingdom how much I value your wisdom and your counsel. I want people to see us together so they know this is not some passing fancy. I want all of them, the Council, the people, to see how much I love you and how much I need you with me if I am to be the King I want to be. I have absolutely no intention of parading you anywhere, but I'm just so sick and tired of hiding away and I don't want to do it anymore, not with you."
Guinevere listened to Arthur's outpouring. This was the real Arthur, she thought, relieved. This was the man she'd seen in him. This was the man she loved, the man who would make Camelot great. She reached for his cheek again, moved by his words and the contrition in his eyes. "I do understand Arthur, of course I do," she caressed his cheek tenderly. "I just don't want you to think it will be easy. The people might accept me, I've known a lot of the people in the lower town all my life, so they will know I won't change if..."
"When," Arthur interjected affectionately.
Guinevere smiled softly at the sound of his voice and ignored his interruption. "I just worry about the Council making things difficult for you, especially in the early days, when you will need their support the most."
Arthur nodded, understanding Guinevere's feelings. "I understand, of course. We'll take things slowly for a while. I'll get used to the change in my position and you can be at my side for things...if you want to. Then, when we are ready and the time is right, I will ask you the question I've been waiting to ask and you can give me your answer."
Guinevere smiled tenderly. "So you think you don't know what my answer will be?"
Arthur beamed, his eyes brightening as he picked up on her amusement. "You surprise me all the time, so I won't assume, but you should be aware that I can be very persuasive, if I have to be."
Guinevere was about to reply to Arthur's cheekiness when the bells rang. It was getting late. She sighed softly. "I should go." She stepped away from Arthur reluctantly.
Arthur nodded hesitantly and his face fell. "Merlin will be along in a while to help me prepare for the vigil."
Guinevere nodded. "Will you be all right?" She gazed upon him with an air of protectiveness in her eyes.
Arthur nodded assuredly. "I will, thanks to you."
"I didn't do any..."
"You did more than you think Guinevere, you always do," Arthur interrupted firmly, cutting off her attempt to play down her kindness. "Thank you." He said the words carefully, wanting her to know that he wasn't just thanking her for her support in going to see him that night. He was thanking her for everything she'd ever done for him, for all the ways she'd guided and changed him to become the man who was now King.
Guinevere turned away at last and moved to the door.
"Guinevere?" She turned back towards Arthur as he spoke, but instead of speaking, he gazed at her, his eyes full of tenderness and all the things he didn't have words to express. She faced him and told him with her eyes that she understood, and then she slipped out into the night.