Title: you don't feel me here anymore
Author: SilentMuse.x
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen with figments of Arthur's imagination of Lancelot/Gwen.
Warnings: Character death.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Summary: A one-shot I wrote while listening to Broken by Seether (ft. Amy Lee).
A/N: This not what I do on my free time (because I am by no means "free") but I got all depressed because my computer mouse died on me (EPIC FAIL) and I was typing my fics for the Spring Fling Camelot_Love when this song came by and I had to write a fic for it. Enjoy! As of the moment, this is a one-shot.

He loves her laugh. He loves the way that her eyes light up when she smiles. He loves the way the edges of her eyes crinkle when she grins.

He doesn't know that she knows he's watching her. She knows he watches her move about the room, trying to do her duties as normally as she can.

But she doesn't know he thinks that she can brighten up a whole room with her presence.

All they live with are unspoken words

Arthur watches as his light leaves the room and sits in silence and darkness.

***~***

Sometimes he doubts his strength. He doubts if he could still continue on life without her by his side.

But he knows they can never be. Not until he becomes strong enough to face his father.

How he can't be strong enough is beyond him. He faced his father before, so why couldn't he now? Why couldn't he march up to him and tell him that he's in love?

He wasn't ashamed of his love. He reveled in it.

But he was scared not of his father's reaction to him but to Guinevere.

Sometimes silence is his way of protecting her.

***~***

He mistakes her glances towards the returning knight as ones of love and adoration. What he didn't know is that it was all a figment of his imagination. He couldn't bring himself to think that she was staring at him.

After all, why should she? It was she who made it clear they couldn't be.

But he made no move to prove her wrong.

The warmth in his heart that her love provided flickered slightly as he watched Lancelot kiss the back of her hand. He was too preoccupied with jealousy to notice that she withdrew her hand too quickly. He was too busy feeling the ache in his heart to notice that the smile she gave him was half-hearted.

Her eyes flickered towards him as he left them alone in the courtyard.

***~***

She was surprised when he showed up at her doorstep at night. She moved aside to let him enter. He turned to face her to offer her a bouquet of flowers, and she felt herself smile and get lost in the thought that maybe this was the day he would come back to her.

But he took two steps backward.

"I know that you're happy with Lancelot," he started, looking anywhere but at her. Her smile fell and she felt her hands tremble. Why would you think that? she asked him silently. "And all I want is for you to be happy, Guinevere. I won't stand in the way of your happiness."

She took a deep breath as she asked him the question he did not want to answer. "Are you saying goodbye, Arthur?"

In response, Arthur leaned towards her and brushed his lips over hers. She took the few seconds of love he offered her greedily, knowing the moment would not last. As he pulled away and stared at her, she knew his response.

He turned and walked away, like he always did.

Gwen felt her knees shake and struggled to keep her balance. She never felt farther apart from her love 'til now.

***~***

While Lancelot was away for a mission, he watched her. He watched as the light disappeared in her eyes. He watched as she walked through the corridors like a ghost – looking so lost.

He mistook it as her longing for Lancelot.

They haven't spoken since that night at her home. He did not regret kissing her because he had to. He had to fall prisoner to his greed, to have a momentary solution from his heartache. The feel of her lips upon him – the memory – was enough.

Every moment he spent with her in the same room, watching her while she served the food, made him feel so close to her. So close but so far. It felt like all he needed was a few steps more to reach until she moves away and leaves.

He feels like he's in shackles – like he's trapped. Something is keeping him from leaving her. But even though the pain is too much, he wouldn't wish for someone else.

***~***

When news reached him that Lancelot did not return to Camelot alive, his first instinct was to give in to his temptation and visit Gwen. He entered her house without knocking and caught her tending to the flowers that he gave her weeks ago while in tears. She raised her tear-filled eyes to look at him.

"Gwen, I'm sorry," Arthur whispered as he walked over to him to wrap his arms around her. Her body shook against his, wetting the front of his shirt in tears. His heart ached again, like it did a million times before. He knew it was leaving another hole that no one else can fill -- no one else but her. But the thought that she was crying over another man was driving him mad with the pain.

But he did not know the news hasn't reached her yet. When she returned home and saw the flowers had wilted – the flowers she had tried her best to preserve – she felt her heart break at the notion that the last link she had to him had wilted – had gone away. She felt so desolate – so guilt-stricken for the flowers that were her comfort that she found herself moved to tears.

"I know you must be in so much pain," Arthur said above a whisper as he stroked her hair, trying to calm her down. His touch made her cry even more because she knew it was not hers to keep. "But it will all pass."

No, it wouldn't, she told him silently. It will never pass, Arthur. Because I would keep on seeing you and think of what could have been.

"I know Lancelot's death was a shock," Arthur continued on, unaware of her emotional turmoil. Gwen stilled at that. Lancelot? "I know that he filled you promises of returning but I know he will always love you."

At the knowledge of Lancelot's death, Gwen found herself crying harder. She clung to Arthur, trying to keep him to stay.

She did not weep for the dead man that she could have had, but she wept for the one who was alive but she still could not have.