The Wolf At The Door
A/N Well here we are, my epic Six Weeks To Midnight is barely finished and here I am starting a sequel. The idea for a sequel came to me over breakfast towards the end of Six Weeks To Midnight. Since then I have padded the idea out and I think I can make what could be a bit of an obvious cliché into a half decent story, so we'll see.
The story is M rated, probably for a reason at times. You should also probably know that this is set five years after the end of Six Weeks To Midnight. I have no real idea how long this story will be, but I don't expect it to turn into an epic, but this is me, so you never know what my muse will do.
I won't give too much away about where I'm going with the story this time. All I ask is that you trust me and go along for the ride. I also ask you to leave me some reviews if you can. I'm sure not many people read or write the fandom now Merlin is long over as a series, but some encouragement would be nice.
"To ignore history is to ignore the wolf at the door" John Le Carre`
Chapter One
"Right you two, it's nearly time for bed," Guinevere Pendragon called out as she finished loading the washing machine. She slammed the door shut before setting it on a cycle and turning it on.
Once the washing machine was running Guinevere went through from the kitchen to the family room. She stuck her head around the entrance to the family room, which adjoined the kitchen. "Did you hear me you two?" she asked over the noise of a Disney DVD on the television. "Just five more minutes and it'll be bedtime."
The dark haired boy who had been sprawled all over the old leather sofa in the family room sat up straight away and slipped his feet back into the pair of trainers he'd discarded on the floor as soon as Guinevere said they could watch some television after their dinner, if they were good.
The blonde little girl was sitting on her knees on the floor playing with a teddy bear that had seen better days, but she flatly refused to part with it. At the sound of her mother's voice the little girl turned. "Can't we just stay up a bit longer?"
Guinevere sighed at the little girl who looked so much like her father and shook her head. "You can't darling, not really. You've got preschool tomorrow and Llacheu has to be up for school, so you really need to go to bed."
Just at that the DVD finished and Guinevere's children got up. The little girl moved a bit more reluctantly than her older brother, but was sensible enough to know that bedtime wasn't negotiable, especially when they had school the next day, so she did as she was told. Guinevere followed the children upstairs. Llacheu went to his room and began to change his clothes. "I'll be in to see how you're getting on in a minute sweetheart," Guinevere stuck her head around her son's bedroom door quickly. "I'll just help Amhar to get ready for bed and then I'll come and see how you're getting on, all right?"
Llacheu, who resembled his mother in almost every way apart from his height, which was entirely his father's, turned to his mother and rolled his eyes in a good natured sort of way that told Guuinevere she was fussing over him again. "I can do it myself now Mum, I'm a big boy." He finished taking off the clothes he'd worn since he'd finished school for the day a few hours before and began to slide his foot into his pyjama bottoms as he spoke.
Guinevere watched her son trying to balance on one leg while he slipped the other leg into his pyjama bottoms and smothered a smile. "I know you can do it yourself Llacheu, you're a clever boy, but I'll still come in and see how you're getting on when I've tucked Amhar in, all right?"
Guinevere turned from her son's room and followed her daughter to the room next door. "Right young lady; let's get you ready for bed."
"You won't forget George, will you Mummy?" The little girl gave her mother an anxious look.
Guinevere shook her head as she helped Amhar change into a pair of pink pyjamas with a teddy bear on the front. "Now when have I ever forgotten George?" She smiled tenderly at her daughter, opening up her bed, which was covered in a pink quilt. In fact, Amhar's room looked like an explosion in a candy floss factory. Almost everything in the room was pink, right from the walls and curtains, to the bedding on the bed. Even the bedstead was bright pink, although it was made slightly more bearable by some little fairy lights that were wrapped around the bedstead and powered by a tiny battery. As confident as she was, much more outgoing than her slightly shy older brother, four year old Amhar still didn't like sleeping on her own in the dark. When she first began to be afraid of the dark Guinevere had left the bathroom light on, hoping it would throw enough light into the hallway. She left the light on until Amhar had fallen asleep. That had worked for a while, until Amhar worked out what was going on and woke up in the night, screaming in the dark. Guinevere didn't really want to leave a light on all night because she thought it would keep Llacheu awake, not that he would ever complain, so she went out looking for an alternative and found some fairy lights that looked like butterflies. Amhar had loved them on sight and couldn't wait to go to bed and use them. Guinevere had wrapped them carefully around the bedstead at the head of the bed and turned them on. The little lights weren't bright, but they just gave out enough of a glow to stop Amhar worrying about the dark and let them all sleep in peace.
"Come on then, into bed." Guinevere watched Amhar climb into bed and pulled the quilt over her. She handed over George, the teddy bear that had been a favourite with Amhar since before she could talk and therefore now looked a bit aged and sorry for himself, with his wonky ears and a nose that was literally hanging by a thread, and tucked Amhar in, leaning over to kiss her goodnight.
"Mummy?"
Guinevere stood upright again as Amhar spoke. "What is it sweetheart?" She had a feeling she knew what was coming. It often did lately.
Amhar looked up at her mother with wide sapphire blue eyes. "Is Daddy going to be coming home tonight?"
Guinevere sighed and sat down for a moment on the side of Amhar's bed, knowing she had thought right. Barely a night went by these days when Amhar didn't go to bed and ask when her father would be home. Sometimes Amhar would just quietly ask the question, but on other nights the little girl, who resembled her father in almost every way, with her light blonde hair, although hers surrounded her head with tight curls, and sapphire blue eyes that made her appear almost angelic, would cry for her father and plead with her mother to make him come home from work.
Guinevere cast her mind back to when Amhar was born. Just a year and a half after giving birth to Llacheu, Guinevere was in labour again. This time Guinevere and Arthur had decided to wait for the birth to find out what sex the baby was, so when the midwife announced that they had a beautiful little girl, they were surprised. Guinevere could still remember the moment Arthur first held his daughter in his arms. Right from the moment she was born Amhar was beautiful. She didn't look red and puffy like some newborn babies; her skin was perfectly soft and wrinkle free. As Arthur held her, Amhar's eyes opened and she gazed up at her father with total trust in her eyes. Arthur reached out a finger and Amhar clutched it, her long fingers clasping Arthur's finger and gripping it with all her might, as if she already believed her father would always keep her safe and be her lifeline. Arthur had wept, his heart overflowing with love for this adorable little girl in his arms, and Guinevere knew he was smitten.
Arthur loved his sons, Guinevere knew that. Gwydre was born before they'd been married for two years. Before their second anniversary Gwydre was gone. He'd been snatched away by sudden infant death syndrome when he was three months old. Gwydre's death had nearly destroyed Arthur and Guinevere's marriage, but they had eventually found their way back together and began to recover from their loss.
Llacheu came along a couple of months after Guinevere and Arthur's fifth wedding anniversary. Guinevere's mind went back over her pregnancy with Llacheu. The excitement of the pregnancy was tinged by the constant fear of losing another baby in the way they had lost Gwydre. The fear had increased when Llacheu was born, but he'd come through the early months of his life and continued to thrive.
Eighteen months after Llacheu's birth Amhar was born. Arthur had adored his daughter from the moment she was born, and it was mutual. Amhar was the very definition of a Daddy's girl. Just as he'd done with the boys, Arthur spent every minute he could with Amhar when she was a baby. Her first word was 'Dada' and she took her first tottering steps into Arthur's arms. Guinevere could still hear the baby squealing with delight when Arthur picked her up after she walked towards him on wobbly legs when she was eleven months old. He'd held the baby in his arms, holding one of her hands in his and wrapping his other arm around her while he spun her around the room as if they were waltzing.
Arthur remained attentive and doted on Llacheu and Amhar until Amhar started preschool when she was three. Guinevere knew that Arthur still adored the children, but in the year since Amhar had started preschool, he had become increasingly wrapped up in work.
Arthur was an estate agent. He'd taken over the family company when his father retired. Over time he'd expanded the business. A short time before Llacheu was born Arthur went into constructing homes as well as selling them. He built six properties on the edge of Winchester, intending them to be purchased at affordable prices for people just starting out on the property ladder. The properties all sold quickly when they were completed, just a year after Llacheu was born, and then Arthur began to receive offers from local councils and housing associations up and down the country to build properties for them. The properties they wanted were cheap and basic, but Arthur put his heart and soul into the work and soon oversaw more houses being built all over the country.
Everything changed when Amhar was three. Up until then Arthur made sure he could get home every night before the children went to bed. He used to get home when they were eating their evening meal and would help to bath them and put them to bed. He tried to finish early as much as he could when Guinevere went back to work. He worked from home as much as possible so he could be with the children when Guinevere went out to work. Even on days he was late home from work he would give in to pleas for just one story, reading a book to the children or making a story up out of his head, doing all the voices for characters and keeping the children engrossed with the tales he told and the pictures he created in their minds. Then, just before Amhar's third birthday, Arthur came home one night and said he'd received an offer to build a chain of private estates around the country, each small estate in wealthy areas, or in areas that were becoming more affluent. He showed Guinevere the plans for the properties, which were to be five and six bedroom houses in new gated communities in the most affluent areas, or five bedroom houses and smart apartment blocks in areas that were on the rise. Guinevere could still remember feeling stunned when she thought of how much money went into constructing and selling properties like the buildings Arthur was being asked to build. Each new home could easily cost a million pounds or more to buy, and the apartments could be worth almost as much, which meant that the contract to build them, which Arthur was considering, was worth a very large amount of money.
Arthur had been reluctant to get involved in private housing at first. All he had originally intended to do when he took Pendragon Homes into construction, was build affordable housing for families who struggled to buy properties of their own, families like theirs if their circumstances had been different, he'd explained to Guinevere, one night as they lay in bed and Arthur turned his decision over in his mind. All he'd intended to do was build a few properties, but the success of the small estate he built had expanded into several estates all over the country, and that had then grown into an offer to go into private properties for a completely different market.
Arthur had thought long and hard about what to do. Guinevere could see him thinking about it, turning the idea over and over in his mind, debating with himself what to do. In the end, after giving it a lot of thought, Arthur decided to do it. He knew there were risks involved in going into such a new direction, but the success he'd already had gave him confidence he could do it. He could also see how lucrative the work could be, and how they could benefit, not just in the business sense, but as a family. "I could give you anything you want, and the children could go to good schools when the time comes," he said, once he'd settled on going ahead. Guinevere questioned what she could possibly need, knowing they had beautiful children and a lovely home they bought just before Llacheu was born, but she didn't have the heart to hold Arthur back, so she supported him in going ahead.
The problems started very soon after Arthur went into this new area of business. Soon he started to miss parts of family life that had once been so important to him. Originally Guinevere and Arthur had shared as much of the childcare as possible. Guinevere had gone back to work herself when Amhar went to preschool. With Amhar just starting preschool and Llacheu on the brink of going to school, Guinevere felt able to go back to work as a carer, just on a part time basis, doing a few hours a week to fill the time she would have spent with the children when they were at home all the time, but now the children were spreading their wings, Llacheu was just months away from starting school, so Guinevere went back to work, knowing perfectly well she didn't need to go back for the money, Arthur earned enough to cover the expenses they had, but going back to create something for herself and do something that benefitted other people.
When Guinevere went back to work Arthur promised he would do everything he could to organise his work around hers. He promised he would make sure he had days when he could either take the children to preschool on his way to work, or he would make sure he still had time to pick them up after preschool when Guinevere was working, but it hadn't worked out that way. Soon Guinevere had to reduce the hours she could work so that she could be around for the children. She was having to rush around in the mornings to get the children up and taken to preschool before dashing to work herself, and then finishing work just in time to go and pick the children up again. Then she would go home, feed the children and do anything in the house that needed to be done before starting to prepare a meal again for when Arthur got home.
It didn't take long before the cracks started to develop. Six months into the new project Arthur was running himself ragged, trying to juggle the estate agency, even though he had had a deputy manager in the office, Percival, who could run the place in his sleep, the housing projects for the councils and the new private housing developments. He was putting in long hours, sometimes not getting home until long after the children had gone to bed, and leaving for work again before they were up in the mornings, which meant that they went days at a time without seeing him. It became even worse when problems developed on the private developments and Arthur needed to travel to sort out what was wrong. Even when the initial problems were sorted out new issues developed, and now, a year on from when he started the private developments, Arthur was still regularly having to go to London, Oxford or Cambridge, or sometimes even further away, to deal with some crisis or other. Sometimes he got home just as Guinevere was going to bed herself, but lately he'd decided that if he was going to be late getting back it would be easier for him to book a room in a hotel for the night close to the development sites rather than commuting, arriving home late and disrupting the family late at night.
Guinevere wanted to ask Arthur to come home at night. She wanted to tell him she didn't care how late it was, that having him home for a few hours was better than him spending days at a time away, but pride stopped her speaking. She was juggling the children, her job and looking after the house on her own and resentment was starting to creep in. The resentment she was starting to feel increased sharply when Arthur missed Llacheu's first day at school, which came a couple of months before Llacheu turned five and just a couple of weeks before Arthur and Guinevere's tenth wedding anniversary, which Arthur had also gone on to miss because of work.
Guinevere got up on the morning of Llacheu's first day at school and helped him get ready. She sensed his nerves and tried to reassure him, but she knew that what Llacheu really needed was his father, but Arthur wasn't there. She helped Amhar get ready for preschool quickly, chatting away to try to make the day feel normal, but it wasn't. When it came to the time when they had to leave for school Llacheu held Guinevere's hand in a way he hadn't for ages, holding on to her tightly as if he was afraid she would disappear if he let go. She dropped Amhar off at preschool first, telling her that her grandpa was going to pick her up at lunchtime and take her to his house for some lunch because Mummy was working. With a quick kiss and a hug, Amhar disappeared into the familiar surroundings of the preschool that adjoined the school Amhar would start when she was five. Then it was Llacheu's turn. They set off on the short walk from Amhar's preschool to the school where Llacheu would start his first full day of education. Guinevere took him in to the school building and through to his classroom, where she exchanged a quick greeting with his teacher before kneeling to speak to Llacheu.
"Now, you've got everything you need in your school bag," Guinevere forced a smile to her lips and indicated to the small rucksack on Llacheu's back as she spoke in a low voice. "You've got a packed lunch. I've made you some ham and cheese sandwiches because they're your favourite, and I've put some fruit in too and some carrot sticks because I know you like them. I've put you a little snack for break time too, a little bar of chocolate for a treat. Oh, and I've put you a drink in for lunch time too, a carton of fruit juice, but if you can't manage to put the straw into the carton remember to ask one of the dinner ladies to help you and they will, all right?" She had to collect herself before she went on. All the time she was speaking Llacheu had been looking back at her, his face full of apprehension. She could see him biting his lip in an attempt to be good, but his eyes were wide with fear. "Now, remember to say please and thank you," Guinevere went on, pulling herself together and taking Llacheu's hand, finding it as cold as ice. She rubbed it absently as she continued to speak, forcing herself to sound cheerful. "Remember to ask your teacher if you need to use the toilet and she'll let you go." The moment to leave was fast approaching. Guinevere sighed and kissed Llacheu softly. "I'm going to go now, but I promise I will be back here when the bell rings at three thirty for home time."
"You're going to come and get me, not Grandpa?" Llacheu asked, his lip wobbling as he spoke and his voice higher than usual.
Guinevere shook her head and took both of Llacheu's hands in hers, knowing he was close to tears."No, Grandpa is going to pick up Amhar for me because I'm working, but I will be finished work by the time you finish school, so I will come and pick you up and you can tell me all about your first day at school while we go to Grandpa's to pick up Amhar, all right?"
Llacheu's face, which resembled Guinevere's so much, filled with relief. He nodded and broke into something that was nearly a smile, but looked a little bit too watery for that.
Guinevere hugged Llacheu tightly and then stood. "Right, I will see you later, don't forget, I want to know all about your first day when I come to pick you up. Be a good boy, I'll see you later."
With that Llacheu's teacher attracted his attention. Guinevere just caught sight of the teacher helping Llacheu to take his rucksack off his back and take his coat off as she walked out of the classroom. She heard the teacher showing Llacheu where to hang up his coat and rucksack, just inside the classroom in a small entranceway. When she was out of earshot of the classroom Guinevere started to run. She ran out of the school building and across the playground as fast as her legs would carry her, until she was just around the corner from the school. Then, finding a quiet spot out of the way of people as they passed by, Guinevere burst into tears.
Guinevere's memories slipped away and she turned her attention back to Amhar, who was wrapped up in her pink quilt, her sleepy eyes gazing up at her mother expectantly. Guinevere pulled a smile to her lips. "Yes darling, Daddy will be home in a while."
The light that came on behind Amhar's eyes outshone the little lights around the bedstead. "Will you ask him to come and kiss me goodnight when he's home, please?"
The plea in Amhar's voice brought a lump to Guinevere's throat. She blinked rapidly and willed herself to keep smiling. "I will ask him darling, but you mustn't try to stay awake for him. Daddy might be a while yet, he's driving home from a long way away, so you need to go to sleep because you've got preschool in the morning. I promise I'll ask him to come and give you a goodnight kiss though."
Placated, Amhar settled down again. Then it seemed as if she had another thought and took hold of Guinevere's hand. "Mummy, is Ganpa going to pick me up tomorrow, after preschool?"
Guinevere smothered a smile at Amhar's name for her Grandpa, Arthur's father. From the time she could talk Amhar had called Uther Ganpa, because she just couldn't say 'grandpa'. The name had stuck even after Amhar learned to pronounce her r's and became a term of affection. As much as Amhar adored her father, she also adored her Grandpa, and Uther doted on both of his grandchildren. He was always offering to childmind and treating the children to small gifts. When Llacheu started school Uther immediately offered to go and pick Amhar up each day from preschool, which did shorter days than the regular schools. Guinevere hadn't wanted to intrude on Uther at first, saying she could work something out so she could pick both children up, but Uther had insisted she wasn't intruding and he wanted to help, if she agreed. "It would give me some time to spend with my granddaughter," he'd said brightly, knowing full well that what he meant was that it would give him time to spoil Amhar rotten.
Guinevere had eventually agreed, grateful for the help because it meant she could work knowing that Amhar was somewhere she would be looked after properly, and Llacheu didn't finish school until she was due to finish work anyway, so it would be a big help. More recently, now Llacheu was comfortable with school and settling in well eight months after that nervous first day, Uther had also started to pick him up from school. That allowed Guinevere to finish work and have an hour or two at home to do housework without the children there, which would give her time to spend with them doing fun things when she picked them up, or it gave her another couple of hours she could spend at work, which she felt went some way towards making up for the time she had to cut her hours down so much when both of the children were at preschool.
Guinevere sometimes wondered if offering his help was her father in law's way of trying to make up for the years when Arthur was a child. Uther had spent years overlooking his son while he worked. It was his desperate way of trying to escape from the realities of losing his wife in a car accident when Arthur was three. The thought made her wonder how Arthur could make the same mistake now. Arthur loved the children, Guinevere knew that without a doubt, but since he was working on the new development he had effectively become an absent father, and his children felt the loss of him keenly. Both children responded to Arthur's absence by needing constant reassurance. Every day they asked who was going to pick them up from school or preschool, and if Guinevere left them with their grandpa, or on the odd occasion when Gwaine and Sefa had them for an hour or two, they needed to know exactly what time Guinevere would pick them up. Though neither Llacheu or Amhar could express it, Guinevere sensed they were both frightened of being abandoned completely and ending up alone. The thought of either of them having that in the back of their minds made Guinevere feel sick, so she made sure she was never late to pick the children up, even if they were in familiar surroundings like their Grandpa's house.
Guinevere smiled softly down on her daughter. "Yes, Grandpa is going to pick up you up from preschool and take you to his house for lunch, and then he'll take you to pick up Llacheu from school. I'm going to come to Grandpa's to pick you up when I finish work. We've got something special to do on the way from Grandpa's, but then we'll come home and maybe you can have a treat for dinner, if you're both good. Maybe we could go and see Uncle Gwaine and Uncle Leon at the restaurant, how about that?"
Amhar nodded sleepily and then tried to smother a yawn. Seeing her daughter was falling asleep, Guinevere leaned down again to kiss Amhar once more, whisper a soft "I love you," and say goodnight and then she went to Llacheu's room.
By now Llacheu was tucked up in bed, a small bedside lamp on a bedside table casting a soft glow into the room. Guinevere smiled when she looked at the lampshade on the lamp. It was covered in little images of footballs, and the lamp itself looked like a china football cut in half with a flat bottom for it to stand on. Around the walls of the room, which were originally pale blue, Llacheu had football posters, some representing various clubs, but others showing players Llacheu looked up to. Most of the pale blue paint, which had been on the walls for at least a couple of years, was hidden by the posters.
Guinevere tucked Llacheu's quilt, which was also covered in footballs, over him more closely and sat down on the side of the bed. "You're a good boy sweetheart, you're getting quick at changing now, and doing it all by yourself, that's very grown up."
"I'm a big boy now Mum," Llacheu almost rolled his eyes at his mother and then beamed at her affectionately, his chocolate eyes shining in the light of the room. "I'm five and a half."
"Yes well," Guinevere gazed down on her son with love in her eyes, "you'll always be my baby." She grinned and pretended to give Llacheu a sloppy kiss.
Llacheu pulled a face and a laugh burst from him when Guinevere went to tickle him. "Muuuuuuum!"
Llacheu quietened down after a moment. "Now I'm five and a half that means they'll let me play football soon, doesn't it Mum?"
Guinevere sighed. She'd been having this discussion with Llacheu for months. He'd been introduced to football by his Grandpa, who had bought a mini football goal for his back garden almost as soon as Llacheu could walk. Llacheu had also watched matches on the television with his Granddad, her Dad, when they visited him in the nursing home he'd lived in since just after Amhar was born. Llacheu had become hooked on the game, and when he discovered there were local teams, he desperately wanted to join. The problem was that none of the local teams accepted children until they were six. Llacheu remained undaunted. Every passing month now seemed to bring the same thing from him, "They'll let me play soon, won't they Mum?" accompanied by the same hopeful look in his eyes.
"They'll let you try to get into a team when you're six, Llacheu," Guinevere explained for what felt like the millionth time. "When you're six we'll look at the local teams and see which ones you might like to try to get into..."
"I want to join the City Flyers Mum, you know I do," Llacheu interrupted, sitting halfway up in bed.
Guinevere settled Llacheu back down and mentally told her Dad off for telling her son about all the local teams and showing him pictures of their kits. Ever since then Llacheu had been transfixed by the thought of joining the City Flyers. They had teams of all ages, from under tens to eighteen year olds. Their kit was black shorts and shirts with a deep red vertical band on one half of the front.
Guinevere nodded patiently. "Yes, I know you do sweetheart, and in six months time, when you're six, we'll look into trying to get you into the team, so you need to be patient until then."
Llacheu sat and counted the months on his fingers. "That's next season Mum!" His eyes lit up with excitement.
Guinevere rolled her eyes. Now she'd done it. Llacheu would now be counting the days for the next football season to start. She decided to cut the conversation off while she had a chance. She leaned forward and kissed Llacheu. "Yes well, boys who don't get enough sleep don't have enough energy for football, do they?"
As Guinevere went to sit up from leaning over to kiss Llacheu goodnight, he put his arms around her and hugged her as tightly as he could. "I really love you, Mum."
Guinevere hugged Llacheu back, holding his little body tightly in her arms. She knew enough about her son to know this had nothing to do with their conversation about the possibility of him joining football teams. This was entirely genuine. Llacheu had a tendency to be a bit shy, especially with people he didn't know very well, but he had a capacity to love that came completely naturally to him. He showed affection as easily as breathing. He did get a bit embarrassed if he thought he was being treated like a baby, but when it came to giving out hugs and expressing his love, he didn't hold back. Since Arthur became increasingly absent Llacheu had clung to Guinevere even more, holding her hand at every opportunity and going out of his way to say I love you.
"I really love you too, my darling boy," Guinevere closed her eyes to hold back the rush of emotion that came over her.
Llacheu settled back down into bed a moment or two later. "Right, now, you need to get off to sleep young man," Guinevere said, beginning to stand up. "After school tomorrow I'll pick you and Amhar up from Grandpa's and we've got something special to do, and then I thought you might both want to go and have something nice to eat at Uncle Gwaine and Uncle Leon's restaurant, what do you think?"
Llacheu nodded and beamed with pleasure. "Can we have ice cream for dessert?"
Guinevere smothered a grin. Her son had inherited her sweet tooth. "Yes, we can have ice cream for dessert." She stood up properly and went to the door, turning off the lamp on the bedside table as she went.
"G'night Mum, love you," Llacheu yawned and then turned over on his side, burying himself in his quilt.
Guinevere smiled and went downstairs.
About twenty minutes after Guinevere had put the children to bed she heard the sound of a familiar car pulling up outside the house. She didn't get up, not even when she heard a key being put into the lock on the front door. She knew who it would be. She heard familiar footsteps in the hallway and through the kitchen and waited for Arthur to make an appearance. She didn't have to wait long.
Arthur Pendragon stood in the entrance to the family room, leaning heavily on the side of the dividing wall between the kitchen and the family room. Guinevere dragged her eyes off the television, where she'd been watching a film for the last few minutes, and turned the sound down with the remote control on the side of the old leather sofa they'd brought with them when they moved from the flat they'd lived in for most of the first five years of their marriage. They had a newer sofa in the living room, a big corner sofa that filled a lot of space in the living room and provided places for people to sit down when they entertained, not that they had entertained anyone for months.
Guinevere turned her attention to Arthur. He looked exhausted. His dark grey suit looked like he'd worn it for at least two days, it was creased and there was some sort of greasy stain on the jacket, as if he'd spilled something over himself. Guinevere noted the way the suit seemed to hang slightly on Arthur, as if it was a size too big for him, and clamped down on the urge to worry.
Arthur walked into the room almost at a snail's pace and dropped himself down on the opposite end of the sofa to Guinevere. She forced herself not to remember how Arthur used to kiss her in greeting every evening when he came home when he worked regularly in the office at Pendragon Homes. He would kiss her every morning when he left for work too, especially after the awful times when they were putting themselves back together after being pushed to the brink of divorce when Gwydre died and she was coming back from falling into an emotional collapse that had come about because she tried to run away from her grief. Some days she would almost have to push him out of the front door to work in those times when they were back together and finding a way through their despair. Now Arthur seemed permanently exhausted, too tired to kiss her in greeting or hold her in his arms. He lacked the energy to initiate any sort of physical contact with her, and Guinevere was becoming fed up with feeling like she was pushing him in to it.
Guinevere recalled the last time they made love. She did a quick calculation and realised it had been a month since they'd been together in that way. It reminded her of the months after Gwydre died, when they had bitter arguments and lay with their backs to each other in bed. Then they spent months apart and Arthur had applied for a divorce. Guinevere had become ill at some point she still couldn't quite define after Gwydre died, and Arthur, not realising the state she was in, had felt pushed out, so he left. It had taken them months to sort themselves out, and a while to rebuild their relationship, but when they made love again it was like they had never been apart. Guinevere could still remember every touch, every kiss they exchanged that first time after so long. Somewhere deep down Guinevere wished it could be like that again, when Arthur cared enough to show his love with his body as well as with words, but he never seemed to have the energy, or maybe the will, for either now.
The last time they made love Arthur had been away for over a week. There had been some issues he never really explained with the development on the outskirts of London and the only way Arthur could deal with the problem was to go and see for himself what was happening. He was away longer than he said he would be and almost crawled into the house when he got back. He ate half of a meal Guinevere put in front of him and then said he was going to have a shower. As he walked out of the room it dawned on Guinevere that he hadn't asked after her or the children, but she pushed the thought aside, not wanting to pick a fight with him when he was just back after being away for what felt like an age.
Guinevere gave Arthur a few minutes and then went up the stairs. Knowing Arthur would be in their en suite bathroom and never locked the door when it was just them and the children in the house, especially if the children were in bed, she intended to go and pick up his clothes from where she knew he would dump them on the floor when he got into the shower.
As Guinevere went into the en suite she heard the sound of the shower. She found Arthur's clothes on the floor and picked them up, dropping them into the plastic laundry basket in the corner of the room, which she still found surprisingly spacious after living in the house for years. Any noise she made was drowned out by the rush of the shower.
Guinevere was about to walk out of the room when she stopped. Arthur was just visible through the glass panel of the shower screen and the clouds of steam the hot water churned into the air. Guinevere watched as Arthur reached up to wash his hair, his naked body stretching as he rubbed shampoo into his hair and then washed it out, his strong arms flexing with every move he made.
Suddenly Guinevere wanted him. Heat rose within her like the clouds of steam rising from Arthur's body. Without thinking about it, she began to undress, dropping her own clothes onto the floor in her haste. Then, gathering her courage as her nerve almost failed when she was naked, she stepped forward and reached for the door on the shower screen. She opened it quietly and stepped inside, closing the glass door behind her.
Arthur was oblivious to Guinevere at first. His head was under the steaming shower, blocking out anything else. He had his back to Guinevere and she watched as rivulets of water ran down in his back. She followed the droplets with her eyes, watching as they traced the muscles of Arthur's back and then slid further down to his narrow hips and then went lower across the firm muscles of his...
"Guinevere." Arthur's voice broke into her study of his body. She took in how he automatically caressed the syllables of her name in a way that was achingly familiar. The sound of it almost brought a lump to her throat. He had barely called her by name for months.
Guinevere looked Arthur in the eyes as he turned to face her and willed herself to be brave. "I...I thought you might like some company?" She hated the way it sounded like she doubted, like she was asking him to do her some sort of service that she had no right to ask for. "I missed you." She hated that even more. She sounded like she was begging.
A sigh heaved through Arthur's frame. "I'm so tired, Guinevere." He looked down at himself. The sight of her naked and so close would have made him hard in moments in the past. Now he was still almost flaccid. "I don't know if I can..." He stopped talking abruptly as embarrassment flooded his face.
Every part of Guinevere suddenly ached to get out of that room. She felt rejected and spurned, but the shame written across Arthur's face made her stay. She stepped closer to him. "I don't care about that," she spoke softly, willing herself not to back down. "I just want to be close Arthur, please." She reached for him and slipped her arms around his waist.
Guinevere loved Arthur slowly that night, giving and giving of herself until he was ready to join with her, and then giving him even more until he shuddered through his release. He offered her almost nothing in return, no endearments, no kisses, no caresses. He sighed when it was over, but Guinevere couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or relief that she'd finished with him. She suspected it was the latter.
A moment later, Arthur stepped around her and opened the door of the shower screen. "I need to go to bed. I need to be up early in the morning, I've got to go to Oxford and Sussex." With that he was gone.
Guinevere could just make out Arthur wrapping a towel around his waist through the shower screen. Then she heard the en suite door open and close. When she was sure Arthur had really gone she turned the temperature of the water up and stood directly under the spray, pretending that the water in her eyes wasn't tears.