Part 2: The Bargain

It was the perfect opportunity. When his guards came to him to sign the warrant for her father's arrest, he knew he had just the incentive he needed to get her to submit to him. He felt guilty about arresting the man, but he went along to make sure that no undue force was used against him. He knew that her anger would be fierce, but he thought that given time he could logically reason with her.

He was waiting for her when she burst into his chambers.

"What is the meaning of this? Why did you arrest my father?"

"He was caught aiding and abetting a child who has magic. As you must be aware, it is a crime punishable by death."

"But it makes no sense! If my father hadn't helped, that child would have been the one caught and arrested for something he has no control over! He cannot help what he is, any more than you or I can!"

"What your father did was very noble indeed," Arthur agreed, "but he knew the risks and he must deal with the consequences."

"There must be something you can do," she pleaded.

"As a matter of fact, it is within my power to have your father released, but I want something from you in return."

"And what might that be?" she asked cautiously.

"Come to bed with me and I'll have the king pardon your father."

She hadn't been expecting that. Or had she? "You want me to give you my virtue—the only thing I have of worth to give my husband?"

"For your father, Gwen. Don't think of it as a sacrifice. You will be doing your duty as a daughter."

"But I know that you feel that my father's imprisonment is completely unjust! That boy was only a child, whether he had magic or not. Anyone would have helped him, including you!"

"I agree that your father should not be in prison, and if I were king, he would not be."

"Then why won't you do what is right and help me?"

"Because there's something that I want and I would do anything to get it." He looked at her pointedly, leaving no room for doubt about his meaning.

"How can I trust you? I thought you were my friend, or at least someone I could count on. But a friend would never ask this of me."

"I will go to the king and tell him that your father was falsely accused. He will believe my word over that of a mere commoner. But as for being your friend…you must know that I care for you a great deal. And even though you'd be giving me 'the only thing you have of worth' as you put it, I would cherish and honor it as a gift, giving it the respect it deserves. You will feel only pleasure in my bed. Let me prove it to you."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll show you what it can be like. Come here, Guinevere." She didn't move towards him, but she didn't move away either. He took it as a sign to move closer to her. She still seemed to be upset. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with every breath. He leaned down and drew her face towards his with his hands. When their lips were but a hairsbreadth away he paused. "Look at me, Gwen." She couldn't help but look up to meet his eyes and when she did he touched his lips to hers. His were surprisingly soft and dry, but warm. She closed her eyes as the kiss deepened and he insistently pressed his tongue against her lips to open her mouth. He sucked on her full bottom lip, rubbing his tongue along it teasingly. Then he plunged his tongue into her mouth in imitation of the sexual ritual he wished to perform with her later. She felt her knees go weak, and one arm fell away from her face to wrap around her waist as he slowly tilted her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck for support, giving in to the security of his arms and the sensations coursing through her body. He was gently stroking her back, sending shivers up her spine.

When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, he gazed down into eyes half-lidded with passion. His voice was nothing more than a husky whisper. "If you can tell me that that kiss didn't mean anything to you, that you didn't feel anything…then I will go to my father immediately and have your father released."

Gwen's eyes grew round as she took in the meaning of his words. This was her moment of reckoning. Should tell the truth and give in to her feelings? Looking up at Arthur, who was still tenderly cupping her face, she knew that he could see plainly in her face that she was not unaffected by his kiss. She shook her head. "I cannot tell a lie."

"Then you will do it?"

Guinevere swallowed back the lump in her throat, then nodded. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" he asked, straightening until they were both standing facing each other once again.

"We keep this a secret."

Triumph was with his grasp, so what was one little concession? He immediately agreed. "Done."

Guinevere looked up at him uncertainly. "And when will you expect me to fulfill my end of the bargain?"

"I have some work to do getting your father released. Then I will make arrangements for us to meet in secret."

Guinevere sighed in relief. Whether it was because she had been able to convince Arthur to release her father, or from the reprieve she was given for upholding her end of their agreement, she wasn't sure. "Thank you, sire." Then she left, leaving Arthur to pleasurably contemplate the night when she would become his completely.


Guinevere paused outside of the cabin, her hand falling still as she reached for the doorknob. Her heartbeat was racing with fear and excitement. When she had finally been able to bring her father home again, she had been filled with elation. She was extremely grateful to Arthur for what he had done. He could have made her lie with him first before releasing her father, but as a show of faith he hadn't. She believed in her heart that he would have done it whether she had agreed to his proposal or not. She knew that she could turn around and return to the castle and he would never approach her again. He was a proud man, and if she rejected him, he would never forgive her. But she didn't think that she could bear the thought of him hating her. Even though he could be infuriatingly arrogant, rude, and self-entitled, she knew that underneath he was kind and good-hearted. She knew that one day he would become the kind of king of legends. A king that she would be proud to serve.

And if she was honest with herself, she did want him. She thought about the way he had held her in his arms and kissed her all the time. He had awakened within her a primal need…for what, she wasn't exactly sure of, but she knew deep in the quivering heat between her thighs that he could give it to her.

Letting out a deep breath she didn't even realize she had been holding inside, she finally placed her hand on the doorknob, and opened the door. She was startled to find a table had been set with candles, dishes, a bottle of wine, and a vase of flowers. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, and she could smell the enticing scent of a meal being kept warm on the stones nearby the fire.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

When she turned around there he was leaning against the wall and looking very pleased, and perhaps a bit relieved.

"I gave you my word, milord."

"Please, call me Arthur. After what's going to happen between the two of us," he began in a husky voice, "there's no need for formalities." Her eyes widened at the allusion to rest of the evening, and trying to get her to relax he told her, "Don't worry, I'm not going to jump your bones this second."

"Then what are you going to do, milord—Arthur?"

"I intend on enjoying a meal with a beautiful woman, and letting things progress naturally." He pulled out a chair for her, indicating to her that she should sit down. Then he began to pour wine into the glasses on the table. When he was finished he sat down across from her and raised his glass for a toast. "To a night that neither one of us will ever forget." They clinked glasses, and then he took a sip, while Guinevere downed hers. Arthur smiled knowingly. He hoped that a couple of glasses might make her feel more relaxed, but he would stop her before she drank too much.

While she was still drinking wine Arthur went about preparing dinner. There wasn't much to do, as it had all been prepared in the palace kitchens, but he also wanted to give her some time get a handle on her emotions. He knew that she was nervous. Even he felt a little nervous with anticipation. He wanted to make this night perfect for her. In order to do that he had to get her to stop thinking about what was going to happen, and just be in the moment with him.

When he was finished preparing the meal, he set a plate in front of Guinevere and another in front of the seat next to her. He poured more wine into each of their glasses. "Please dig in," he told her after taking a sip of wine.

But Guinevere didn't touch anything. "I need to thank you for what you did."

Arthur shook his head. "There's no need to thank me. We both know there's another way I'd like you to show your appreciation."

Guinevere's cheeks turned pink. "Nevertheless, I thought I ought to say it anyway. You were true to your word, and so I must be true to mine."

"Is that the only reason you're here?"

His eyes caught hers, and again she realized that she would not be able to lie to him, even if she wanted to. But she didn't want to deny her feelings any longer. "No, Arthur. That's not the only reason I'm here."

"Then why are you here?" he implored, fervently.

"Because I think about you all the time," she admitted. "I find myself fantasizing about kissing you—" Arthur silenced her words with a heated kiss. He pressed his lips against hers forcefully, giving in to the pent up frustration he had been feeling for weeks. His mouth bruised hers, but she welcomed the kiss, parting her lips and effectively gentling him. He plunged his tongue into her mouth to meet hers, caressing and stroking it tenderly. He shoved his hands into her thick curls and tugged gently down forcing her head up for easier access. She had her hands pressed against his chest where she could feel his heart beating madly. The steady staccato drumming rhythm mirrored her own.

Suddenly Arthur pulled away, his eyes closed, breathing hard. He took in a few deep breaths before he chanced to look at Guinevere again. She looked as if she had been thoroughly ravished and he'd only just gotten started! Her hair was in disarray, her cheeks were pink and her eyes were cloudy with passion. He'd have to slow down or he'd take her roughly, and he wanted it to be good for her. So he sat back and took another sip of his wine so that he could get control of himself. He too his time looking at her, watching the way her breasts rose and fell with every breath, and staring her deep in the eyes. They sat there staring at each other building up anticipation. When Arthur finally stood up, Guinevere did too, and when he offered his hand to her, she took it. He brought the work-roughened hand to his lips and kissed the top, then turned it over and kissed her sensitive wrist, sending sparks of pleasure straight to her groin. Then he led her to the bed.


When it was over, they stayed entwined for a few moments as they both caught their breaths. Then he withdrew and settled on the bed next to her staring at the ceiling as stars circled about his head. When his vision began to clear he turned to look at Guinevere, but she was turned away from him. He was entranced by her silhouette—the curve of her hip, the ridges of her ribcage, and the shadow of her nape. But they were shaking, and he could hear the muffled sound of weeping. He was immediately filled with concern and pressed a hand against her shoulder to turn her to face him. He saw tears sliding down her cheekbones like raindrops down a windowpane.

"Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head and quickly tried to wipe away the evidence of her crying. "No. It wasn't painful at all, really. It was wonderful." She smiled weakly.

"Then what's wrong?" he asked, confused. His hand cupped her face and gently thumbed away a stray tear.

"I was just thinking…about the silly dreams of a young girl." Her voice caught in her throat.

"What dreams?"

"Of falling in love, getting married, and having children. That sort of thing. It's funny how life turns out, isn't it?"

"Are you sorry that I've taken those things away from you?"

"I knew what I was getting into when I walked through that door." She pulled away and sat up on the edge of the bed with her feet dangling, looking at her hands clasped together in her lap. "But I never imagined I'd become a mistress. I've given up everything I believed in, and if anyone ever found out, I'd never be able to hold my head up. It's all well and good for you. You are the prince. But I am nothing. Less than nothing now."

Arthur sat up next to her, leaning on one arm, legs sprawled out behind her back. "Don't say those things," he chided, gently grasping her chin and forcing her to look at him. "No matter what you think you may have given up, you are not worthless." He leaned in to kiss her, then pulled her down on top of him, trying to make her forget her sadness with his mouth and his hands. They had the rest of the night ahead of them and he intended to make the most of it.


A/N: There are about 1,000 extra words of smutty goodness, but alas I cannot post it here. Please send a PM if you would like to read the extended version.