Disclaimer: I own nothing related to 'Merlin'
I Will Remember You
She couldn't quite remember the exact moment it had happened. She supposed that it was one of those gradual things which crept up and you didn't realise until it was too late.
She recalled earlier times when the world did not matter so long as they had each other, when they could not wait to be alone. It had been a whirl of blissful change – he had assumed the throne following the demise of his father and begun the process of un-demonising the use of magic and allowing its return to the land. It had been due, in no small part, to Merlin's revelation. Who would have known that the quiet, unassuming servant actually wielded so much power and had spent all those years surreptitiously using his magic to keep his master safe. Merlin had overturned the long-held official stance that magic was purely evil.
The peace had endured for a long time during which her hopes and dreams had come true. She couldn't prevent the fond smile that appeared with the memory.
"Guinevere, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, my princess?" It was just like a fairytale. He was down on bended knee, her hand held in his, blue eyes filled with hope and love.
"Yes, Arthur." There was no hesitation and those two words completed their happiness. He had scooped her up in his arms and they shared a kiss that would have made the angels blush.
A sigh escaped her as her thoughts turned to their wedding night. It was as clear in her mind as if it had just been yesterday.
The nimbleness of his fingers as he loosened the ties of her corset and dress, the warmth of his breath and his soft lips as they kissed each part of her body as it became exposed by his hand. Her legs had become jelly, eyes wide with nervous anticipation. She had let him guide her, follow his lead. He was so gentle, patiently amused by her wonder at his body as she tentatively explored him just as he did to her. As her confidence grew, he had given her experiences which she had not thought possible and (with some guidance from him) she had reciprocated with pleasure. She had not believed it possible for two people to fit each other so perfectly.
Each day had been a joy, each night even more so. They thought it would never end, but as with all things, it could not last forever. Threats from neighbouring kingdoms as well as forces from further afield had to be attended to, the day-to-day running of Camelot and well-being of the people required his availability to be accessible. Whilst the return of magic had been a positive move, there was always the danger from renegade magicians whose need for revenge against Uther was so great that it spilled over to his son despite the death of the old king.
So her husband was drawn away by necessity and with the continued presence of threats to his person, over time he became more and more preoccupied with the need to keep his friends and family safe. She had begun to feel smothered by his need to protect her, she couldn't go anywhere without a body of guards with her. Once or twice, she had given them the slip and the sense of freedom had been wonderful. The fight they had had when he found out had not been quite so wonderful.
Why could he not see that he was over-reacting, that he was becoming his father in more ways than what might be desired?
Why could she not see that he was doing what he was doing out of love and he had to protect what was precious to him?
At first, they had managed to resolve their arguments very quickly, enjoying the making-up afterwards. Over time, though, the arguments were not swiftly resolved and they would go to bed angry, backs turned to each other, the gulf between them widening as surely as the physical space that let in a draft down the centre of the bed.
She had spent much of her time alone crying, unable to understand how the happiness had turned into sadness, how they now regarded each other more as strangers than man and wife. Every so often, she might catch a glimpse of what almost looked like contempt in his eyes. In hers, he would see rebuke and recrimination.
For a lengthy time now, the fires of their passion had dulled to barely lit embers. The nights were no longer tender.
They had tried to talk, to recapture what they used to have but reconciliations fell apart as soon as they came across any differences of opinion.
In the end, it seemed clear to both of them that he no longer listened to either her opinion or advice and she had lost her belief and faith in him.
Then he suddenly arrived, dark eyes still flamed with yearning for her even after all this time. She had felt able to confide in someone for the first time in what felt like an age and she was flattered by his attention. She couldn't remember the last time her husband, the man she had given her heart and soul to, looked at her with anything approaching desire.
He refused to give in to his jealousy at his return. He saw the way he looked at his wife and he wanted nothing more than to run his sword through this upstart but he would not rise to the bait, would not show weakness.
She confessed to herself that she did encourage Lancelot's attention. She wanted to see some type of emotion from her husband, wanted some sign that he still wanted her, that he would still fight for her. However, she saw no indications of that type. If anything, she felt nothing from him. It was as if he could not care less if she left that very second.
She continued to try and bait him by being more flirtatious but there was nothing, no flicker of anything. He plainly ignored her.
He swallowed his anger at her actions with Lancelot. He would not give either of them the satisfaction of seeing him fuming and agitated.
He threw himself into his work, his role and duties as King of Camelot. He tried to block everything else from his mind. He tried not to think about her.
She stared out over the battlements, her brain spinning with confusion and torn emotions. Her marriage was in tatters. Lancelot had asked to her to be his lover, he had been ardent in his declaration of love for her. Part of her told her to accept, to find solace in his passion. He offered a lightness that had been missing from her life for longer than she cared to remember. The other part of her admitted that she was still in love with her husband and it would break her heart to forsake the vows she had taken with him.
But Lancelot was making her a very tempting offer…
Tears ran down her face as she felt herself crumbling with sorrow.
Apologies for more arwen angsty-ness, but hope u like it. Please review x
