She found him in his room, shuffling papers and documents by the light of some candles. Gwen knew it was far too late to still be here, in the castle, but she knew that she had to tell him- to let him know. Even if he didn't really want to. It had taken all her courage, not to mention a swig or too of cider, to get here, and she wouldn't stop now.
Arthur barley lifted his head when she pushed open the heavy oak door, his back hunched over the desk, eyes roaming aimlessly over treaties his father wanted him to read. He made to collect a few together in a bundle and push them away when he caught the slight movement from the corner of his eye. The familiar brush of violet skirts that always made his stomach do this weird clench and dip.
"Guinevere." Her hair was down and dotted with white flower petals, her eyes were huge, watching him with a strange kind of apprehension that he had never seen in them before. He pushed back from the desk and stood. "Are you alr-"
"Lancelot asked me to marry him."
And just like that, Arthur felt the world fall from beneath his feet. Something had hit him hard in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. The air suddenly seemed too thin and the room was too hot and he was sure that this pain was worse than any sword wound or broken limb.
"Oh." Was all he could manage. His mouth was dry and his brain wasn't really working. In the far recesses of his mind he had expected this. He knew that Lancelot had returned to Camelot for her, returned with his newly acquired knighthood and Mercian cape to offer Gwen everything that he had once promised. But he had thought that when the news reached him, Arthur would have remained neutral and emotionless and completely at ease because he was ready for it. Now he knew that it really didn't matter when he was told Guinevere and Lancelot were engaged, the pain of it wouldn't have lessened any.
But he tried to act the Prince.
"Congratulations." And Gwen stepped forward slightly. "I hope you'll be very happy."
"Do you mean that?" Her voice sounded just as strained and gravelly as Arthur's, but she didn't hide it as well.
"Of course," Arthur's blue gaze fell on her and Gwen couldn't help but shiver under it. "I just want you to be happy, Guinevere." She could feel his hot breath on her cheek and it dawned on them both how close they were to each other. She could see the flicks of brown in his golden hair and he could smell the lavender on her clothes. Every cell in his body was alive to her, but it hurt to think that he wasn't allowed to be this close and he stepped back.
She watched him walk round to his desk and touch at the parchments there. "He's a good man. He's honourable and brave. He can give you a home and a family. A life; everything you'll ever need." He glanced up to see that she had still not moved from her previous position, but watched him steadily from across the distance. It was the way the soft light danced across her skin that made his heart ache and told him that he had to get away. With a steely determination, Arthur marched to the door, not really caring where he was going, just as long as it was out of here. His hand reached for the handle.
"I said no."
She had turned with him, only to see him freeze.
"What?" Shakily he spun to face Gwen, his breath hitching and huffing.
"I told him thank you," she smiled sweetly, "but that I simply could not marry him."
Arthur's brows furrowed as his cold demeanour melted away to reveal the confused boy Gwen had seen a few times before. "But- I, erm, I don't...why?"
"Oh, Arthur!" She sighed, closing the gap between them in two quick strides. "Why do you think?" She grasped the linen of his shirt between her fingers, and looked him square in the eyes. "I love you. Lancelot may be able to provide for me, but all that I'll ever need, all that I'll ever want is you. How could I marry him when I'm so completely and irrevocably yours?"
Gwen barley caught the smile on his lips before she felt them crushing against her own. Arthur grabbed at her waist and pulled till she was flush against him, mouths parted and breathing heavy. She could feel his relief in his kisses as he dotted them along her neck and cheekbones. Arthur felt the heavy sinking turn to blissful fluttering, and finally understood what it meant to have butterflies.
He didn't know how one sentence could get him from suicidal to blissful, but Arthur did concede that a conversation with his Guinevere always brings a torrent of adverse emotions.
"I love you so much." He buried his head in her hair, drowning in her scent as he nipped at the skin there. She pulled him up to look at him, and couldn't help the silly smirk that tugged at her mouth.
"You really thought I'd said yes?" Arthur usually found himself grinning whenever Guinevere did.
"Well," he drawled, hands running soothingly up and down her back, "he is the more sensible choice."
"Since when have you been concerned with 'the sensible'?"
He laughed loudly, uncaring who heard in the silence of the castle. "True. But, I can never give you what he can- at least not now-"
"I would wait a hundred lifetimes for you, Arthur Pendragon." She interrupted and peppered with a kiss. Then another and another and another. Till she rocked back on her heels, blaming the buzz in her head from the cider and not Arthur's closeness.
He peered down at her from under his fringe, enjoying the taste she left on his lips, when the gravity of the night hit him full force. His mind was bombarded with images of Lancelot and a life beyond Camelot. A life that didn't include a Prince.
"I thought I'd lost you to him." His jaw tightened and the grip on her waist became more urgent. "I thought you would ride off into the sunset and I'd never get too see you again. To have to live in Camelot, without you, it's...scary. It's the most terrifying idea I've ever heard." His eyes glazed over as he lifted one hand to cup her cheek. "I can't do this without you."
Gwen looped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to his level. "You'll never have to." And as she pressed her lips against his, Arthur knew it to be true.