Prompt: "But if you really hold me tight, all the way home I'll be warm..." (inspired by the snowing in Paris right now!)
A/N: For ag_fics Team Fic Battle.
Arthur had not wanted to venture away from Camelot with winter weather rolling in, but Guinevere had insisted it was fine. They had enough time to have a proper carriage prepared; and, after all, it would hardly do to miss Princess Elena's wedding- especially as the groom was their very own Sir Percival.
How that match had come about was still something of a mystery to Arthur. Elena and her father had come for a visit, Percival had escorted them home, and he had come back betrothed. And, it was with Lord Godwin's blessing, rather than with his lordship's curses raining down upon Percival's head. Moreover, the couple seemed truly to be in love. Arthur was more familiar than anyone with how suddenly love could set upon a person, and he would also be the last to question anyone finding happiness together. All the same, he would have been curious to know how it all came about.
When he said as much to Guinevere, she kissed him sweetly on the cheek and told him it was none of his business, and just to be happy for them. Of course, she was right; so, Arthur set about getting a carriage made for their journey, and providing assistance to Percival with his end of the preparations.
The skies were heavy and grey the morning they set out, and not a leaf remained on any of the spindly branches that overhung and lined the roads to Gawant. It made Arthur nervous, but Guinevere would hear none of it. And, she was once again proven right, as the sky cleared halfway through their trip. The sun shone brightly on the wedding festivities, and when it was finally time to return to Camelot, Arthur's mind was at ease.
His previous worries returned in a rush when they were still half a day's ride away from the castle, and this time, he was the one in the right. The snow started lightly at first, but quickly turned into a blizzard. The roads were barely visible through the white fury. Merlin was able to keep their way passable by creating a wind to blow aside the snow in front of them, yet he was not so powerful as to control the weather.
"I can get us home," he called to Arthur, from where he rode in front of everyone else out of necessity. "But, it might take awhile."
Arthur glanced over his shoulder at the carriage not far behind him. He knew it did not take Merlin reading his thoughts when his friend suggested, "Why don't you go check on them? We have this." Merlin looked at Sir Leon, who was riding beside Arthur, for confirmation.
"It's fine, Sire," Leon agreed.
With a nod of thanks, Arthur drew his horse to a halt, waiting for the carriage to catch up. He got in as quickly as possible, not wanting to let the weather in, or to hold up the caravan for any longer than necessary. As he dropped into the seat opposite Guinevere, it occurred to him exactly how coated in snow he was. Despite the warmth it provided, he removed his cloak and wrapped it into itself, in an attempt to keep it from soaking the thick lining of the carriage any more than necessary. And, as a last measure, he brushed off his hair.
All this he did as silently as possible, because Guinevere had held her finger to her lips when he first came in. The baby was sleeping soundly, nestled in her arms and wrapped up well against the chill air.
As soon as he relatively dry, Arthur moved over to sit beside her, kissing her gently on the head as he did. He was still concerned about getting them home safely, but watching even the little that could be seen of their sleeping infant brought a peace to his soul that never ceased to amaze him.
After several quiet minutes, Arthur asked softly, "How are you both faring? You're not too cold?"
"He's nice and toasty," Guinevere replied in equally hushed tones. "I am comfortable enough." The content smile she had been wearing faded as she studied her husband. "You must be frozen."
It was true, but he waved it off. "I've been in worse." Nor was he only saying so. There had been many times in the past when he had been exposed to nasty weather when leading the knights, and there were sure to be many times in the future. Presently, he was simply thankful for the excellent craftsmanship of the carriage, which was keeping his small family even warmer than he had expected. The interior was lined with several layers of wool and furs, which helped their body heat warm the air around them. It was not the same as being huddled down by a roaring hearth, but it was good. "It's nice to be in here for now," he admitted after a pause.
Her smile returned at that. Carefully, she shifted their son to one arm, leaving the arm beside Arthur free. Holding it out, she said, "Come on, then."
"How do you suggest I manage that?" he asked, both amused and moved at the same time. If he were to lean over, he would be resting his cheek on the top of her head, not on her shoulder.
"I'm sure you can find a way." Patiently, Guinevere waited until Arthur slid down, propping his feet on the opposite seat. The position was not completely restful with his armor on, but when he was finally snuggled against her, their son slumbering peacefully beside him, he did feel warmer. It was an emotional warmth more than a physical one; yet in some ways, that was even better.
When he finally rejoined the other men on horseback some time later, he barely noticed the cold.
