It Begins with a Kiss:

Prince Arthur kissed me. I kissed Prince Arthur. The future king of Camelot kissed me. I think I need to sit down. I nod to myself, I do need to sit down. I pull out the bench from underneath the wooden table. I push it back in. I'm too restless to sit down. I want to… no, I need to tell someone.

I could tell Merlin… But Merlin and Arthur are always together. What if he lets something that I say slip to Arthur? But what would I even have to tell him about Arthur? I barely know how I feel about what happened. I barely even understand how it happened.

One minute I was handing him a handkerchief, the next he was kissing me. What in my right mind possessed me to even give him my handkerchief? Oh wait, I know. It's because I told him that he was annoying and arrogant, I complained when he provided dinner, and I took my bed away from him. I forced the future king of Camelot to sleep on my floor...

I shrug. I could say that I gave him the handkerchief to avoid the stocks…? But then, if I can't force myself to believe it then I certainly wouldn't be able to play it off to anyone else. And how did I forget that on top me insulting the future king at every chance, there's an assassin trying to kill him. I could slap myself.

Maybe the token was my way of letting him know that I am here to support him? I certainly did not intend for the token to lead to Prince Arthur kissing me… in my home…in private…with no chaperone.

But then why did I linger? He kept looking at me with those blue eyes. They wouldn't leave my face, and I smiled in response. And then he smiled. And then there was more looking at each other. And then his lips parted. His face relaxed. He tilted his head to the side. I should have turned away. I should have…but I didn't.

And then he was leaning in towards me. And then I knew what was going to happen. And then it happened. My eyes were still open. There was the brown of his tunic so close to my face, and then my eyes were closed. I leaned into the kiss. His hands grasped my token between our bodies, my hands hung at my side wanting so desperately to reach up to him.

This is exactly why men and women aren't permitted to be in such close quarters alone. It doesn't matter who you are or who they are. There's just too much freedom. There's too much temptation.

I take a deep breath.

I could tell Morgana… But she and Arthur have had such a strange relationship. I never know whether or not she likes him. I never know whether or not he likes her. Have they ever kissed? How many girls has Arthur kissed? Probably many. He is quite handsome and a prince.

I suddenly feel stupid. How many tokens has he received from women fawning over him? It is not as if this is his first tournament. How many of those women has he kissed?

I shake my head. These aren't thoughts that I should be concerned with. I should just accept that Prince Arthur kissed me and move on. I shouldn't think about the way that he looked at me. I shouldn't think about the way that his lips felt against mine. I shouldn't think about…

I need a walk. My brain is working too fast. It does that sometimes. And then I get anxious and jittery. I pull a shawl over my shoulders and walk out of the front door. I walk two steps before I turn back to the door. I should clean. I'm good at cleaning. If I wander off now then I may get lost in my thoughts and not be back in time for the tournament.

But do I even want to be at the tournament? Should I even go to the tournament?

If I clean now then my home will be tidy when I get back. And that's good because I am not sure whether or not Merlin and Arthur are coming back tonight. I've made up my mind. I walk the two steps back to my house, open the door, and absentmindedly throw my shawl over the bedpost on my right. I kick the front door closed behind me, grab the broom from it's place against the wall, and try to push away the guilty voice that has been running through my head since the aforementioned kiss.

What about Lancelot?

What about Lancelot? I think to myself. He's gone, and I'm here in Camelot with Merlin, and Morgana, and Arthur…who kissed me.

I begin to sweep. Normally, when I clean, I can clear my thoughts. It's a type of meditation for me. I don't have to think. I just do; and yet, all I can see is Lancelot's pained face etched into my mind.

I feel even more stupid when I think of him. I feel like I've betrayed him by kissing Arthur, but then how could I have betrayed him? Lancelot left to never return, and it's not as if we were committed to each other even when he was here.

Sometimes I lie awake thinking that I loved him. But that would be naïve, wouldn't it? I barely knew him. I think that I just needed someone to love with mother gone, father murdered, and Elyan who knows where.

Sometimes I think that I could have loved him. I think that I would have loved him if he had stayed in Camelot. I wouldn't have cared that Uther had stripped him of his title as a Knight of Camelot. I was the daughter of a man found guilty of aiding a sorcerer. I know that my father was innocent, but that doesn't stop the stares and whispers from following me through Camelot. We could have endured the whispers together.

Lancelot and I were united by our upbringings. We were both surrounded by scandal in the end. Lancelot was sweet and kind. He could listen to me, and I could listen to him. We had many conversations. We cared for one another.

Arthur and I are united in the fact that we both walk in the same castle. The difference is that he's the prince and I'm a maidservant. Arthur and I are united by Merlin and Morgana. Arthur acts like a jerk and then tries to fix it and fails miserably. I talk at Arthur, and I'm unsure of whether or not he's heard me. He infuriates me, but still, I care about him. I care about Arthur as any loyal citizen would to her future king, and he cares about me as a loyal subject.

But then why would he have kissed me? Why would I have kissed him back?

I take a deep breath when I've reached the other end of my home. That didn't take quite as long as I needed it to. I look around my small home. When Lancelot was here, he fit. He was comfortable, and I was comfortable with him being here. With Arthur, he seems to out of place. I find myself nervous of how my humble home comes across in his eyes.

Noise brings my attention to the front window. People are beginning to make their way to the tournament. I should head that way too.

I don't even know why I'm wasting my time with such thoughts.

Lancelot is gone. He's been banished from Camelot, and he cannot return. I cannot leave. Camelot is where my family was happy. If Elyan comes back, he'll come here. Camelot is home. Arthur is here, in Camelot. But Arthur is the future king, and I'm a maidservant.

I chide myself. I don't mean that to sound as if Arthur is leagues above me. I'm happy to serve Morgana as both a servant and a friend. I love my work. I merely mean to say that Arthur and I can never understand each other, and you should have some things in common with the person who you love.

Love, I scoff at the notion and replace the broom against the wall. I could never love Arthur Pendragon.

I nod to myself, my thoughts finally reaching resolution. I pull my shawl back over my shoulders casting one last glance about the room.

My mind is still working, but the thoughts come more slowly now. I remember the way that Arthur looked at me after he had broken the kiss. He could have said anything. He didn't. Instead he took a deep breath, swallowed, and broke our gaze.

"I must go," was what he said.

I close the door behind me, making sure that it is pulled tight before I follow the crowd to the tournament. Prince Arthur kissed me. I kissed Prince Arthur. It was a mistake, and it shall not happen again.

A/N:

I loved The Adventures of Merlin, but I wish that Gwen had retained a bit more of her nervousness from Series 1. This story will take a slower (and hopefully) more realistic approach to her and Arthur's relationship and will include more struggle between her choosing between Arthur and Lancelot. I don't want a love triangle, but more of a coming to terms with her feelings for both men. I hope you enjoy.