She Watched Him from the Window
By MySoapBox
Many thanks to angelinthecrowd for her beta on this short story.
After episode 2.13 The Dragonlord
She watched him from the window and for the hundredth time, Guinevere both cursed and blessed the fact that her Mistress Morgana's room overlooked the courtyard where Arthur and his men trained. Nearly every day she saw him, hair mussed, armor gleaming. His commanding voice carried through the open window along with the thwack of arrows and the crashing of swords. Each glimpse and each sound, filled her heart with wanting and sadness. They were reminders all, of the man that could never be hers.
She watched him now; he was putting on a demonstration for his men. He twirled his broadsword effortlessly behind him before getting into position. Guinevere was the daughter of a swordsmith and had been around weapons and fighting men all her life. She had never seen another that fought with as much expertise mingled with shear grit and heart, as he did. His knights encircled him with rapt attention, they too must have appreciated that they were learning from a master.
Arthur's servant, Merlin, looked up then and met Guinevere's eyes. He smiled at her, a knowing smile, and she felt the blood rush to her face. She saw his ears rise as his grin widened. Why should she feel like a child getting her finger caught in the honey dipper? It was only her work that brought her to the window, nothing more. She began to shake the rug that was in her hands; for how many moments it had been held still, she did not know. Merlin turned his attention back to the training, and Guinevere felt a surge of relief that he had said nothing to Arthur about her presence at the window.
She reached for the beater that she kept close and struck the rug with a steady slow rhythm. She could see the dust particles catch the morning sun as they fell away. Below, the men had paired up, practicing the attack-counterattack that Arthur had demonstrated for them. They were all new recruits - the replacements for so many men lost in the dragon attack – and their inexperience showed in their large sloppy strokes and clumsy parries.
Arthur's voice carried again up to Guinevere's ears, and she stayed her hand to make out the words.
"Being a knight of Camelot means more than just being a soldier," he shouted at his men. "It means fighting for something bigger than yourself. It means being a man of honor and sacrifice…"
As he talked on, Guinevere's heart stirred. This was the man that would lead Camelot into a brighter day. This was the king that the people have been waiting for. His destiny both thrilled and saddened her. She raised her hand to her chest to still her thumping heart.
"… and you have all been fighting like a bunch of whining, weak, women," he bellowed with disdain. "Now try it again!"
Guinevere's hand dropped. She was a woman; did Arthur really thing so little of her? Had Arthur learn nothing when they fought side by side at Ealdor? She gave her rug one last shake, and pulled it in the window. Arthur was nothing more than a pompous prat. She flopped the rug at the foot of her mistresses' bed and turned her attention to the bed coverings.
How she could ever have any feelings for Arthur Pendragon was beyond understanding. He was nothing like the kind of man she wanted in her life. His hands were calloused, not by work, but by the sword, lance and mace. He knew nothing of a hard day's labor; nothing of the need to put food on the table, or clothes on your back.
He lacked the selflessness that she always had admired in her father. Her heart ached anew as she thought how her father had been killed at the hands of Uther's men. Would her father have blamed Arthur for his murder? Lady Morgana had told Guinevere how Arthur had defended her father to the king, but would her father be so generous in his absolution of the young Pendragon?
She smoothed out the covers of the bed and shook out the pillows. What did it even mater if her father approved? He was the heir to Camelot; she the heir to a life of labor. She had no future with Arthur. She didn't even want one.
A sharp cry came from the courtyard. She dropped the pillow she was holding and rushed to the window. Arthur had fallen to the ground, Merlin at his aid. She heard Arthur dismiss his men with a gruff voice, as he clutched his side. She turned from the window and rushed out the door, grabbing her basket as she left. Running through the hallway and down the stone stair, she nearly collided with a young knight coming in from the courtyard. Passing through the large doors, the cool air rushed against her face as she pressed her way through others of Arthur's men, to where Merlin was helping Arthur onto a bench.
Arthur was complaining loudly, "How many times did I say, 'attack left, defend right'? Idiot!"
"I thought a knight was supposed to be prepared for anything?" Merlin said.
Her shoes made a clack, clack sound against the pavers as she drew closer.
"How can you defend yourself against total incompetence?" Arthur must have heard her strides, because he looked up to see her approach. "Gwen?"
"What happened?" she asked, as she knelt on the ground before him, her breath coming fast from her sprint through the castle.
"Nothing. It's nothing," Arthur said.
"If you call taking the point of a broadsword nothing," Merlin said.
Leaning in closer she could feel the heat radiate from him and she could smell the mixture of sweat and spices that was uniquely Arthur. Determined not to be distracted by their closeness, Guinevere reached out to where she saw the blood seeping through Arthur's tunic
"Gwen, really; it's just a scratch," he protested, pulling away.
"Let me be the judge of that." She pushed his hands away and lifted the cloth's edge. Blood trickled out of the small gash.
"Merlin, get me some water," she commanded as she reached into her basket for some rags.
"Gwen, you don't have to do this. I'm fine," Arthur said, but didn't interfere again with her work.
"And leave our future king to bleed in his own courtyard? I don't think so."
"Is that why you're helping me? For the sake of the kingdom?" he asked.
His voice was light, but if he was teasing or not she could not tell. She bit her bottom lip as she considered. "Perhaps there are other reasons," she added softly. He winced as she probed the wound, but then a soft smile crossed his face.
"Thank you," he said, placing a hand intimately on her cheek.
At first she ignored the warmth of his touch, but she felt him draw closer. She turned her face up to his and they were only inches apart. When his blue eyes captured hers, it took her breath away, and for a moment she was transported back to her father's house, remembering the taste of Arthur's lips on hers.
"Ahem."
They both turned to see Merlin standing there with a dripping bucket fresh from the well.
"People are watching," he said, his eyes discreetly indicating the small crowed that had gathered to see what was going on.
Guinevere colored a little and looked back to her work. Stupid, stupid girl! How easily he enchanted her. One minute she was thinking what a prat he was, and the next how much she would like to kiss him. She shook her head, disgusted with herself. "The bucket, Merlin?"
"Oh, yeah."
Merlin placed the bucket at her side and she plunged her cloth into the cold water. "This will sting a little," she said before right before flushing the wound. Arthur sucked in his breath, but maintained a strained smile. For the sake of his image, Guinevere thought ruefully.
The cleaning done, she reached again in her basket for cloth to bind the injury.
As she began wrapping, Arthur asked, "So, Gwen, how did you know I'd been hurt?" He looked up towards Morgana's window. "Have you been watching me?" A smug smile crossed his face.
Guinevere blushed again, but she was focused on what she was doing so she hoped he didn't notice. "No, heavens, no. I heard your cry through the window."
"What cry? I did not cry," Arthur protested.
"Yes you did," Merlin quickly answered.
"Did not!" Arthur said louder.
"You cried out like a little girl," Merlin taunted.
"You!" he reached out with his arm to hit Merlin, but instead gasped in pain at the movement.
"Will you sit still," Guinevere scolded. He sat up straight obediently. She placed the final touch on his bandage. "You better see Gaius. He can stitch that together and stop the bleeding."
"I don't think…" Arthur began to say, but then Merlin threw his arm around him to help him stand.
"Here we go, Sire. It will only take a minute and soon you'll be cracking heads on the battlefield good as new."
Reluctantly, Arthur leaned on Merlin's shoulder and allowed him to help him up. But before leaving, Arthur reached out and took Guinevere's hand.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, holding her hand a bit longer than was necessary. A crooked smile on his lips that made her heart hammer. "It appears that I continue to be in your debt."
Guinevere dropped his hand and curtsied deeply. "Just doing my duty, my Lord." She looked up just in time to see a frown cross Arthur's face as Merlin led him away.
To be continued