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The moon was full and bright and stars were glittering. Arthur's hands rested on Gwen's waist as he stood behind her.

He nuzzled his face into her curly hair and breathed in.

"I love you Guinevere…" he murmured into her ear, his lips just grazing it. Gwen shivered with delight.

"I love you too, Arthur. With all my heart." She whispered back, smiling into the night. A light breeze fluttered her night gown around her ankles and she leant back into the strong man who wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close to him as possible. She sighed, "Don't you ever let me go."

She heard a soft, deep chuckle.

"There's no chance of that, Guinevere!"

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Guinevere?"

She laughed a little. "Why do you keep using my full name?"

"Because my love, your name to me is like when a man who's been deaf all his life, hears music for the first time. It's the sound of wedding bells to a newlywed couple. It's the sound of the dawn chorus welcoming a beautiful sunset…" he paused before laughing a throaty chuckle, "It's the sound of the dinner call to Gwaine."

Tears were glistening in Gwen's eyes. "It's the way that I am able to say it, I can say it knowing that you are Guinevere, my Guinevere. That is why I keep saying your name."

She turned in his arms to see his crystal blue eyes smiling at her, the faint laughter lines showing at the corners. His mouth was curved into his perfect crooked smile that always made her breath catch. Gwen's fingers absentmindedly traced the outline of his strong jaw, brushing over his lips before trailing down his neck and coming to rest on his broad chest. Arthur's arms tightened around her and he leant in, whispering her name over and over to both himself and her.

"Gwen…my Guinevere…I will always love you…" His lips brushed over hers gently…

Gwen sat up ram-rod straight in her bed. Her heart was hammering. Touching her fingers to her mouth, Gwen swore she had felt his lips on hers. Curling her hands into fists, she thumped down on the side of the bed, which happened to be made of cold hard stone. She drew her throbbing hand close to her chest as it ached.

Since the battle, Gwen had not slept in the great bed. She would not sleep in it without Arthur. The bed was theirs. Not hers, theirs!

Weak sunlight crept through the large windows, just about lighting the large room with the dawn glow. Already Gwen could hear movement through the castle. Quietly she listened to the servants bustling about, the chink of chainmail as knights moved through the grounds below and the absence of Arthur's deep breathing…

She shook her head violently. She was Queen of Camelot now. Sad thoughts could be dwelt upon later, but right now she had a kingdom to run. And she must run it well. Gwen was determined that the kingdom Arthur had built would not fall to pieces, especially not under her rule.

Not bothering to wait for Elayne to arrive and help, Gwen dressed herself in a simple but pretty dress, pinned her hair back hastily and placed a simple gold headband over her head that showed her authority, yet didn't shove it in people's faces.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. It had been three weeks since the coronation and Gwen could see dark shadows under her chocolate brown eyes and she looked a little drained of colour. This wouldn't do. There would be whispers that she was unfit to be Queen if she let her emotions and thoughts take their toll on her. Pinching her cheeks had little effect, so Gwen decided a brisk walk round the grounds or even to the stables would bring a little colour to her pallor.


Smiling sweetly at the curtsies and bows she received as she moved through the castle, she found herself growing a little annoyed. How had Arthur borne all this politeness and formality all his life? Maybe that was why he'd found her reprimand in Ealdor all those years ago so refreshing. A small smile appeared as she recalled that moment.

"Guinevere!" he had said, before smiling a little. "Thank-you."

She still felt mortified that she'd spoken like that to a Prince when she had been just a servant, but Arthur had assured her several months ago, when they'd been reminiscing one evening, that he'd desperately needed someone to do that. She bit her lip. It had only been several months ago, how things were different now.

Gwen walked quietly through the kitchens, an unusual route for a Queen of Camelot, one might think, but the kitchen staff were used to it. Once a servant herself, Gwen often forgot to walk through the castle via the grander doors and passageways. Instead she would absentmindedly stroll where she used to work and if it wasn't for the elegant dresses and headbands, nobody would notice her.

"My lady," Helen, the newest addition to the Camelot kitchens curtsied and looked a little flustered. She was the only one not used to the Queen's presence in the kitchens. Gwen nodded kindly and wandered over to the rolls of bread from the previous day that no one had wanted. Her stomach rumbled a little as her hand strayed towards one.

"Oi! No one takes my bread rolls!" came the familiar reprimand. She looked up into the twinkling eyes of the cook. "At least the ones that are stale," she spoke again and gently pressed a freshly baked roll, still warm, into Gwen's hand. An almost smile spread across her face. It felt strange, she hadn't smiled for a while. She felt honoured! Next to no one got away with fresh rolls from the cook! Gwen could remember when she'd been working in the kitchens one day; Merlin had stepped near her pies once and received a slap to the hand with a spoon. His cheeky grin had spread across his face and he'd walked away, yet somehow, she had seen him later munching on one, cramming it into his mouth between errands for Arthur. He'd probably used his magic to steal one. It was a strange thought, that Merlin and the powerful old sorcerer were one and the same, that he'd been the saviour of Camelot and probably Albion on many occasions. Strange that Merlin was the most powerful sorcerer of all time…or so Gaius had told her several weeks ago.

Gwen admitted, she missed Merlin and wished he would return. If anyone could share her grief it was him. But then it would probably worsen his grief being in Camelot, with memories around every corner. At least he could escape from them and move on. She was stuck here, seeing Arthur's ghost every night in her vivid dreams, feeling his hand in hers when she sat on the throne to discuss matters of aiding the villages destroyed or manipulated by Morgana and hearing his laugh when Leon or Percival dropped something or tripped.

Gwen blinked and realised she had strayed to the stables near the courtyard. Quietly, she walked to where her horse, Alisdair was stabled. She ate most of the bread and fed the rest to the happy looking creature.

Most of Camelot was just waking and the sun was new in the sky. Gwen breathed in the cool air and looked for someone to help her put a saddle on Alisdair. Of course William, the 15 year old stable-boy insisted he must do it himself and that she, the Queen, mustn't trouble herself with doing such labour. Gwen graciously stepped back and in a short time, Alisdair was standing there, saddled and looking at her with expectant eyes. Glad of the simple dress she had chosen, she easily climbed into the saddle and settled down, comfortable in the familiarity of it.

The Queen could not travel outside of the castle without an escort, or at least she would cause a panic if she did, so Guinevere contented herself to trot round and round the courtyard waiting until she spotted a knight or two who was willing and ready to ride out for a bit.

It was about her 5th turn of the large area, when a familiar and friendly voice called across to her.

"My lady! Surely you must be dizzy by now!"

Twisting in her saddle, she saw Leon and Percival descending the steps. She was glad it was these two. Not that she'd have minded had it been some other knights, but Leon and Percival had seemingly always been in Camelot and were a comfort to her. She looked on them as family. They were like her kind if ever so slightly mischievous elder brothers, who would beat up any man who had the audacity to even look at her. But she wouldn't dare tell them this. They reminded her of Elyan, her own dear brother she had lost not so long ago…another heavy loss.

"Care to explain why you're carving out a track round the courtyard with poor Alisdair's hooves, my lady?" Leon grinned up as they reached her. Unable to help herself, Gwen smiled back. The poor knight blinked in shock, he'd not seen her smile for weeks. Maybe she was having a good day, maybe she was beginning to cope, maybe she was smiling because she was happy to see him. Immediately he shook his head, his curls bouncing.

"My lady is there anything you need? Or would you like to continue your thrilling tour of the square alone?"

Gwen raised her eyebrows and sighed. "Please take me out of here!" she groaned. "And soon, otherwise I shall behead the next person who asks if I am 'quite alright'!" She added in a conspiratorial whisper.

Leon smiled and turned towards the stables. Percival nudged him as they walked away; Leon shoved him in retaliation before glancing back at Gwen who rolled her eyes at them.


With the two knights on their trusty steeds, they made their way through the streets of Camelot, people stopping to bow their heads in respect, before the trio emerged into the lush green fields surrounding the town. Gwen inhaled deeply, the scent of grasses, flowers and wood smoke from the town filled her senses. Home. This was the smell of home.

She could feel every inch of her body yearning to charge through the countryside of the kingdom of Camelot on her horse's back, and even Alisdair seemed to quiver with excitement.

"Forgive me," she said to the two knights a few feet behind, as she rearranged her skirts so that she could move her leg to ride like a man, the knights looked away awkwardly as she did so. "Are you ready, Alisdair?" she whispered to her horse once she was settled. He whickered quietly in reply. With another rare smile (she really was in a better mood today), she dug her heels in and they flew off.

Trees, fields, little farms sped past and the wind whipped the loose curls around her head delightfully. She grinned into the wind, happy memories of similar rides with Arthur swimming through her mind.

Eventually they slowed to a gentle trot, passing through a forest path that took them on a circular route back to Camelot. Ahead they saw a small family, apparently taking a stroll. They were all laughing, the mother holding her eldest daughter's hand, the father carrying the littlest child on his shoulders and the other children racing ahead. Gwen's heart warmed at the sight. The young child was using his advantageous height to reach some leaves in a tree when suddenly he leant a little too far. With a cry, he fell.

It all happened so fast that Gwen didn't quite realise what had happened at first. She had seen the boy fall…but now he was hovering in the air, inches away from the ground. Gwen frowned in confusion, until she saw the eldest girl's outstretched hand, and a golden glow leaving her eyes. Magic.

The mother ran forward, plucked him from the air and held the little boy close to her, scolding him for being so silly, but her eyes were relieved all the same. That is until she caught sight of the Queen with two of her knights watching them from behind. The woman gasped and clapped her spare hand to her mouth. The father, turning and seeing Gwen, moved immediately in front of his daughter, who had the look of a trapped rabbit in her eyes. Gwen frowned in confusion until she realised. They must think that she was about to take their daughter away for the crime of sorcery. But Guinevere held no such prejudices. Instead she simply urged her horse to walk calmly on. As they passed, Gwen smiled kindly down at the girl, hiding behind her father. And they simply continued on. As they moved further away, Gwen could vaguely hear the family talking to each other in shocked voices.

"But that…that was the Queen! That was Queen Guinevere! She saw…didn't she?"

"Aye, she saw alright…"

"Then why didn't she…why is Lizzie still…"

Gwen was nearly out of earshot, but she heard the father speak again, with respect, admiration and gratefulness in his voice. "She saw. She just has different principles…"

Gwen felt another smile beginning to spread across her face. A strange sensation grew within her, and she suddenly had an overwhelming feeling that Arthur would have been proud of her impulsive decision.

Glancing behind at the two men riding at her side, she saw that they both wore odd expressions. Of respect and great esteem.