Red
Sometimes she wondered what she had to offer. She had no title, no lands or vast fortune to present. She brought no strategic value to their union. A blacksmith's daughter, whose only talent seemed to be her handiness with a needle and thread, and in a pinch a decent worker at a forge. Besides her pretty face, none would say she was intelligent, charming or even beguiling. She barely spoke unless spoken to and even then, her words were well chosen if not cautious.
Gwen heard the whispers, the softly spoken words when she passed an open door, eyes shifting away when they met hers. Their words are always kind, polite and respectful. What choice did they have? She was now Queen, wife to Arthur Pendragon. He would tolerate no slights to his wife.
Once, she had served many of the nobles. Brought linens to their chambers, and filled the empty cups with wine they did not need. She had been invisible to them when they confessed their sins to others, gossiped or ridiculed the lesser of them. Those days were gone. She could not slip unnoticed in a crowded room, to go about her business. They noticed everything, her hair, Arthur's recent gift of a gold broach and the color of her dress. Silently she stepped through the corridors of Camelot's castle, in a blur of pale purple, and blues. Her only adornments were the intricate embroidered flowers that laced her gowns. The same color she wore a servant. She felt safe in those colors.
She knew the ways of court. She'd grown up around it all her life. She understood the playful teasing of two courtiers, the boasting of a knight to woo a lady and the importance of your proximity to the king at a royal dinner. Gwen was more aware of these things than anyone could imagine. She had the ability to blend into the background and disappear, hearing the words of both fools and smart men. As a servant, she'd learned to listen.
When these words weighed heavy on her, spoke only to the people she loved and trusted the most. She had few confidents in the palace. There was Merlin, Gaius, Elyan and of course Arthur. He listened without question or judgment of her. He thought she had more to bring to the marriage than just a pretty face. He told her often, and she'd like to have believed him.
"There many who do not trust Uric's motives," she said softly. Arthur lay next to her. His eyes closed but not asleep. She wore a linen night dress, its bodice decorated with pale blue embroidered flowers she had stitched herself. Arthur fingered them like a blind man, his touch was gentle and persistent. His eyes finally opened when Gwen cupped his hand in hers as it tried to outline the shape of her breast. She needed his full attention. Annoyed blue eyes stared back at her.
"Uric has come to court to search out my intent. I know many on the council do not trust him and with good cause," he said. "Could you please release my hand?"
Arthur's tone was polite yet insistent. Gwen obeyed and released his hand. Arthur continued with the examination of her embroidery.
"Do know his intent?" Gwen asked, realizing Arthur was about to pull the neatly tied bow of the delicate cord the held the gatherings of nightdress. Before she had the chance to stop him, he pulled. This allowed him slip the nightdress off her right shoulder.
"I'm sure you will tell me," he said before he began kissing her exposed shoulder. Arthur's warm lips on her made her take in a quick breath. The sensation was suddenly too much, as Arthur worked his way up the side of her neck. She lost her train of thought and had succumbed to his touch.
"He is no friend of Odin," she said breathlessly before Arthur's lips found her mouth to silence her. Her words were gone along with her senses. He knew her to well; the gentle pressure to the inside her of her thigh, his skill at teasing her until she begged him to stop, his fascination at the way her body betrayed her. She was the meal at which he ate, a man who would not deny himself.
He seemed satisfied only when he has made a wreck of her; hair undone, chest heaving and her skin flushed. Even when he lay exhausted next to her, she sensed his smile of satisfaction with himself, his ability to undo her so easily. It would be only moments before Arthur fell into a deep sleep, and nothing short of a dragon, attack would wake him. It took all her effort to focus on what she wanted to say. She thought it best to slip out of bed and away from her husband's touch.
The sudden shift in bed roused him. She was slipping back on her nightdress when he propped himself up to watch her. Somehow, the garment had been tossed by the window and she stood silhouetted by the moonlight.
"Come back to bed Gwen, my feet are cold," he said lazily.
"Is that what I am to you Arthur Pendragon, a foot warmer?" She said slightly annoyed.
"Oh heaven's no. If I describe to you exactly what you are to me in our bed, I will never get any sleep." He mused. This made her smile. She walked over to large four poster bed. When Arthur pushed the covers aside, it was an invitation for her to enter. She did not.
"I want to talk to you about Uric." She began to retie the cord to her nightdress. Arthur looked quite disappointed.
"My feet are still cold. So talk to me in bed." Arthur patted the empty, space next to him. Gwen sighed and was about to climb onto the bed when he stopped her.
"Without the nightdress, getting it off the first time was like wresting a boar," he complained. Gwen huffed and stepped away from the bed and firmly tied the cord.
"Uric!" She said. Even in the moonlight, she saw Arthur roll his eyes, as he fell back onto the pillow.
"What of Uric." His tone had turned sourly. She knew he was about to pout, but she persisted anyway.
"You must make an ally of him," she said quickly. This got Arthur's full attention. He looked at her as if she lost her mind.
"Uric? The head of Odin's council! He serves a king who wishes to have me killed. He comes here under the guise to work out a treaty, but no one trusts him. Gwen, don't be ridiculous."
"You can trust him. I have spoken..," She said, but stopped as Arthur sat up abruptly to glare at her. His body glowed white in the moonlight, cold stone with intent. She'd seen that look before, at a council meeting when someone has displeased him.
"You had no right to speak to him," he said. Gone was the lustful look in his eyes, now replaced with irritation. Angrily, he threw covers off him and came to face her. He stood over her, full of heat and anger. Gwen recognized the Pendragon temper and cocked an eyebrow in response. She'd weathered many Pendragon storm before.
"He spoke to me; I did not seek him out." This was partially true of course, but Arthur didn't need to know this. She'd found Odin's council man one day after a particularly intense meeting with Arthur. He seemed emotional and visibly shaken. She offered him wine , and a quiet alcove to gather himself.
"He comes to court on a mission of diplomacy, and he speaks to my wife to serve his case," Arthur said hotly.
"Maybe he wouldn't, if he believed his case wasn't already decided. His voice would fall upon deaf ears." She said softly.
"You mean demands," Arthur retorted. Gwen slowly shook her head.
"Openly, he would play the role of the stern diplomat. He is Odin's man. Yet it has been brought to my attention that there are things beneath the surface that your council and you will not see." She stepped closer to him.
"What could that be madam," he said tightly, not willing to release his anger.
"Are you aware that the son that Odin grieves for had a wife and child?" She said softly; knowing such news would sting him with guilt. He'd slain Odin's son in a duel, not of his choosing. She watched as his eyes turned from her and clouded.
"I am aware," His voice was low and filled with regret.
"It is Uric's daughter and his grandson. We spoke of them in casual conversation at first. I wished to be polite and welcoming to any visiting royal. As you argue with him about the terms of your reluctant treaty with Odin, he fears for his family's future. Odin had lost his senses since the death of his son. He's had become neglectful of many things, he's people for one. They grow restless and angry. It was Uric who convinced the king to make peace with Camelot."
Arthur shook his head as if disbelieving her words. Odin's offer of a truce had come out of the blue. There had been may fights along the border that had preoccupied both kingdoms. Camelot managed to flourish despite the conflict. All believed that peace would come with Odin's revenge; the death of Arthur.
Arthur remained silent for some time, his eyes filled with thought. She watched him. Uric's confession to her was unexpected, maybe too difficult to be believed. Without saying a word, he stepped away from her and sat at the edge of the bed. She followed, took a seat next to him, took his hand in hers, and held tight.
"Odin's future lies with his grandson, not the past. He must look to his people for solace. They need him. Uric said some of their crops have failed this season, because Odin wished to turn farmers into solders. I have told Uric that he should tell Odin that your death will not bring back his son. Nor will it stabilize his kingdom. A fleeting moment of satisfaction will not serve his grandson either. It is Odin's responsibility as sovereign to guarantee a future for him. Odin should not allow his own selfish wants be the causes of others to suffer; his people and his heir. If anything, Odin's son's death should have a different meaning, not the destruction of his kingdom, but its renewal. A more powerful kingdom allied with Camelot. For the son he lost, Camelot would hold an allegiance to his grandson and his heirs."
Arthur turned to her slowly, taking in her words. For two weeks, they have struggled with Uric and his council members. They tried to hammer out an agreement for peace. He'd found Uric stubborn, argumentative and divisive. There were days when few words at the negotiation table were spoken. Here, was his Queen, having intimated conversation with a man who most would consider his sworn enemy.
"What are you saying?" Arthur said, his voice was heavy with cautious.
"Uric took it upon himself to relay our conversations to his king. I did not ask him. We talk of family and the future. " She held her breath for a time before she continued. "He's brought these same words to his daughter. In them, she has found the resolve to confront her father-in-law regarding his actions. More importantly, to remind him of his grandson, who he must help raise to be a man and eventually a king."
"Those words were relayed to Odin?" Arthur asked. Gwen nodded.
"I am saying Arthur my love, that tomorrow, Uric will present to you a treaty that would end Odin's need for revenge. And for the love of a small boy build an alliance. There are those in your council, who would deny this treaty from fear and mistrust, please do not dismiss this. Take Uric aside and speak in private. Words between two men who understand the cost of revenge and the evil it brings. Your own sister has dedicated her life to bringing an end to Camelot because of her hate. It has cost her everything." Gwen kissed him gently on the side of his mouth, his eyes still on her and his lips unresponsive at first. She persisted, and he slowly yielded.
"Come to bed Arthur and let me warm your feet," she whispered into his ear.
XXXXX
The next few days brought with it challenges, but Arthur kept his conversations with Uric private. They talked for hours and sometimes into the morning. When the treaty was signed, both men looked drained and exhausted. Arthur fought both his council members and his own trepidation. Ultimately, he found Uric to be an honest and loyal man, who loved his country and his family. In celebration of the treaty, Arthur arranged a grand banquet.
When Gwen began to ready herself for the festivity, the dress she had planned to wear had been removed by one of her maids. One of her favorites, lavender, and sheer lace sleeves embroidered in gold flowers. When asked about it, the woman simply said, that it was on orders of the king and that a new dress was made for her. This surprised Gwen. It wasn't like Arthur to dictate what she wore. He often commented how lovely her dresses were, some of which she'd made herself. Now she worried that her unadorned dresses too simple for court.
When Arthur arrived in their chamber, she stood before him. He wore his crowd. He was dressed handsomely, with his red cape that held the Pendragon dragon sigil. Always, when there were visiting dignitaries, Arthur made a point of wearing the Pendragon colors, the deep red. Beneath his cape, he wore a red quilted jacket, his ceremonial sword, black trousers and high polished boots. In his hand, he held her crowd.
"Is that all you expect me to wear," she said teasingly. Arthur's broad smile warmed her.
"No my lady, I've commission you something much more appropriate." He gave a nod to one of the maids, who quickly left the room. She returned moments later, with a dress draped over her arms. It was the color of dragon's blood.
"Arthur," she said his name in surprise.
"You are a Pendragon, Guinevere. Sometimes, you are too soft spoken, easily to yield to those with a louder voice. You are the mistress of this house and this kingdom, and you can not fade into the background because it suits you or fear that others hear your voice."
"I do not…" She began to protest, but he stopped her.
"When I spoke to Uric, he said your words convince him more than any other that Camelot can be trusted. You swayed him with reason and logic. You convinced him with your passion. He asked me why I had hidden you away as if I were ashamed of you. I said I was not and would never. You are invaluable to me." Arthur took the dress from the maid and held it out to his wife.
"He said you made him feel at ease and took care of his men. Each day, when the council meetings were over, you came to him, offered him wine, a delicious meal and benign conversation. Before he knew it, he was unburdening his concerns. You listened, while we shouted."
Gwen reluctantly took the dress. The material was soft and delicate. It was such a bold color against her skin. It would be hard to be ignored in a dress like this. This was Arthur point. He had no doubt of what she brought to their marriage. He wanted the kingdom to know as well.
"You are the reason these negotiations are successful. I have no doubt. After tonight, neither will anyone else," he said firmly.
As the maid tightened the bodice of her dress, Gwen stared at her husband. Would he announce her role in making the treaty? There were those who still saw her as a servant. Her brow furrowed, and she looked away from him uncertain.
Arthur stepped to her and placed the crown on her head. He extended an arm to her, and she slowly took it. He looked down at the dress and her and smiled. He liked what he saw, and it eased her a bit. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep cleansing breath.
You are a Pendragon; she told herself and left the room with her husband to greet her guests. Sometimes the color must be - Red.