Title: Saying Goodbye
Author: gabe1990
Prompt(s) Used: Prompt #10
Pairing/Characters: Gwaine/OC. Gwaine, OFC, Uther (mention)
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Word Count: 904
Summary: When she left him, he had only one thing to remember her by. The story behind Gwaine's necklace.
Warnings/Content Notes: None.
Author's Notes: Written for prompt #10 of Gwaine's Quest on LiveJournal.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted belong to Shine and the BBC. No profit is being made.
She collapsed against his chest, her own heaving from excursion. Their legs intertwined, Gwaine raised one hand to caress her dark curls, moving as much as he could away from her sweating brow and hazed blue eyes. His other arm traced invisible patterns across her smooth skin. She shivered at the touch, closing her eyes.
Neither wanted to say anything to disrupt the silence.
Neither wanted to think about the parting of ways that was enviable at the end of the night. This was their last night together for who knows how long. The search for those with magical abilities was spreading around Camelot once more since news had reached King Uther about the magical healer, and it was no longer safe for Eleanor. She had to go into hiding, until the rumours died down – but who knew how long that would take?
Gwaine sighed, a melancholy reassignment in his voice, and turned on his side to encase his lover in his strong arms. He dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder and nuzzled against the crook of her neck, breathing in her unique and addicting smell. Eleanor hummed in appreciation at the scratching sensation his stubble cause against her collarbone. She dropped a kiss to the section of his chest she could reach before her gaze reluctantly trailed to the window, where a hint of the morning sun could just be seen.
She sighed and lazed against the bed. "I have to leave soon…"
"Must you? It's not even dawn yet…" He insisted.
Eleanor smiled softly up at him. Raising one hand, she traced his prominent cheekbones with the tips of her fingers softly, as if savouring the feeling. He leant into her touch, raising one hand to hold her place with a tight grip. His eyes pleaded with her to stay.
"I wish I could, my love," she admitted quietly, "I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my days in this bed with you, but sadly the King has other ideas for my future. The risk is too great for me and, more importantly, for those around me. For that sake, I will leave."
"I do not want you to go…" Gwaine whispered, tilting his head slightly to press a kiss to the palm of her hand.
"And I do not wish to go," Eleanor repeated, firmly, "But I must."
Gwaine sighed in defeat and rolled onto his back, removing his grip form the young Sorceress, allowing her to move. He closed his eyes in refusal to watch her dress and walk out of his life.
Eleanor adjusted the clasp on her red cloak and glanced towards the tense form of her lover in position on his bed. With a slight roll of her eyes, she crouched at his bed side, brushing his brown wisps away from his face. He cracked one eye open to watch her closely.
Using both hands, she unclasped the chain around her neck and rested it against the dip in his muscled torso. Curiously, he raised the object into the direction of the morning sun, the pendent in the palm of his hand.
"Your necklace…" he muttered.
"To remember me by," she smiled softly.
He turned his gaze to her, his eyes serious and intense, causing a shiver to run down her spine. "I could never forget you Eleanor."
"I'm glad…but keep it anyway. It was my mother's before she died – it is laced with more protective spells than I can count. It'll keep you safe for me." Eleanor paused for a moment, "It is also my promise to you. I don't know how long I will be away but I will come back to you. It doesn't matter if it is ten days, or ten years, we will be together again. That is my promise, my vow, to you."
"I love you Eleanor, my healer, my wife, my love." Gwaine whispered.
The couple shared a sound kiss, pouring every ounce of love and fear and desperation, everything they felt for each other into that one embrace. Eleanor pulled back to breath, her forehead rested upon his own and her hands braced herself against his shoulders. Her eyes closed briefly and opened to reveal her blue eyes shining with her unshed, sorrowful tears.
"And I love you, my warrior, my husband, my heart," Eleanor spoke, her voice low but strong and forceful; sincere.
"You should go, before I refuse to let you leave at all," Gwaine warned after a moment of silence where they continued to cling to each other.
He did not watch her leave. He honestly did not think he could bare to see her part with him. Instead, he clung to her parting gift with a desperate need, feeling the cold metal against his palm and remembering the feeling, the taste, of her lips pressed against his.
Even now, as he stood tall as a Knight of Camelot, as a noble, nearly eight years later, he clung to that necklace like it was life force, his very being. In a sense, it was – the charm and his memory of her, memory of her promise, were the only thing that had kept him going (although he had never told anyone that).
No, he would not forget her. He would wait for her for as long as he had to. He would keep his promise, and he had faith she would too.