AN: Credit for this story goes to Lara Smith who offered me the idea.
My mother said, I never should
Play with the gypsies in the wood;
If I did, she would say,
'You naughty girl to disobey.
Your hair shan't curl and your shoes shan't shine,
You gypsy girl, you shan't be mine.'
And my father said that if I did
He'd rap my head with the teapot-lid.
"You've been spying on us."
Arthur jumped at the voice and spun on his heel coming face to face with the woman he had indeed been watching quite frequently over the past few weeks. Arthur stared at the woman and did the only thing he could.
"That is not true. Anyway, you're trespassing on my land." Arthur insisted and the woman raised an eyebrow as she stepped towards him.
"Your land? 'Your' land so-called ends 500 meters that way. This land belongs to nobody therefore we are not trespassing. You however have been spying." Guinevere replied. She was annoyed that this arrogant man believed he owned the world and had had the nerve to spy on her and her camp.
"I was not spying, I was passing through." Arthur claimed.
"Every night for the past two weeks?" Guinevere tested and a wry smile crossed her face. "You were being nosy. You wanted to know whether it was true what people said about us. You wanted to prove them right or wrong. Tell me Arthur, are you disappointed with what you had seen when you seen us?"
Arthur hesitated. When he first discovered the gypsies had set up camp just off their lands, natural curiosity and frustration had been what caused him to come down that night. The reason he kept returning every other night was standing right before him. Therefore he wasn't disappointed however he wasn't sure if she knew just how interested he had been in her.
"I haven't been disappointed. I saw something very intriguing that first night and I was drawn back to it again and again. It was something that was certainly anything but disappointing. Rather it was intriguing, beguiling and very tempting. Even right now." Arthur replied.
"What was that?" Guinevere asked.
"A dancer. A dancer with dark hair, a purple dress and a tendency to cause arguments with men for no reason other than she can." Arthur stated and smiled slightly as Guinevere worked out he was talking about her. Her surprise was only a momentary expression on her face, gone in an instant as another smile played across her face again. This smile however wasn't a wry, knowing smile. It wasn't a simple smile that one wore when receiving a compliment. It wasn't a friendly smile between two people. It was a whole other sort of smile altogether
"So I am intriguing am I?" Guinevere asked as she stepped towards Arthur, causing him to step backwards until his back was pressed against a large oak tree which hid them both from the camp's view and anyone who may have been in the woods that night.
"Indeed you are." Arthur replied. Guinevere was unlike any woman he had ever met. Aside from her background, her insistence of her rights, her urge to defend her people and her dancing was unlike that of anyone he had ever met before.
"And I am beguiling?" Guinevere asked as she linked one of her hands with Arthur's and used the other to reach up and play with his blond hair. She wasn't usually so forward but something about this nobleman brought out a whole other side of her. A more confident and playful side which usually only made some inclination of an appearance whenever she was dancing and the music removed all her worries and inhibitions.
"You are," Arthur replied huskily. Ever since he had watched her dance in front of the other gypsies around their campfire on that first night, his mind had been filled with thoughts about her. Who she was, where she was from and did she know how much of an effect she had on those who seen her, even for a moment; these were all questions he had been almost going crazy trying to find answers to. It had been why he had gone every evening to the camp, to try and gather what information he could. It was only on the third night that he had discovered her name. Guinevere.
"And tell me Arthur, do you find me tempting?" Guinevere asked, pressing her lips close to his ear before leaning back and looking at him with an expression of innocence that would have put a baby doe to shame.
Arthur didn't need to think about his answer. The dance he had witnessed that night; the way she moved her hips and swayed and spun to the beat of the music. The purple dress that left very little to the imagination for her curves and flowing skirt which flared up to show off her claves and ankles to the world; the carefree and teasing smile on her face that she wore as she danced that sent out the message that whilst her audience could watch her dance, that would be all they could do. Watch. Ever since he had seen that dance, all Arthur had wanted to do from that night was grab her and have his way with her there and then.
So did he find Guinevere tempting? There was only one way he was going to answer that.
Arthur pressed his mouth against Gwen's and placed his free hand on her waist as she wrapped hers around his neck and kissed him back just as passionately, flicking his lips with her tongue so that he would deepen the kiss. They stood there in the darkness, arms wrapped tightly around the other tightly, mouths fused together whilst their tongues performed a dance all of their own. After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart for breath and for the longest time, the nobleman and the gypsy stared at one another and Arthur smiled at Guinevere.
"Does that answer your question?" Arthur asked.
"You tell me." Guinevere replied as she tugged his collar in order to kiss him again.