Gwen counted backwards from 100, trying to ignore the man whose head was bent over her leg, his fingers moving none-to-gently across her calf as he tied a scrap of cloth torn from his top around her wound. She wasn't quite sure what it was that fluttered in her stomach - annoyance that he'd insisted on dressing her wound despite her protests, or something else that she rather not dwell upon.

A firm yank and the blonde head lifted, their eyes meeting and for a while, it felt as if time had stopped. She had never noticed just how blue his eyes were or how easy they were to look into. He cleared his throat and Gwen immediately dropped her gaze. She suspected that she might be breaking some rule by staring directly at the crown prince in this manner.

With more grace than Gwen suspected she had, Arthur stood. "Right. That should be enough until we get back to the castle."

She meant to thank him. "Didn't think a prince would know how to dress a wound."

He rocked back on his heels, and crossed his arms, causing his tunic to rise, exposing a band of bare skin. Gwen's gaze went to it before she caught herself. Dragging her eyes up to the prince's face, she saw him frowning. That was probably another rule broken. She really needed to watch her mouth around the prince. The moment she no longer had the protection of being Lancelot's betrothed, there was every chance the prince would throw her into the dungeons for one wrong word. His father would.

"I can do a lot of things."

"Shall we return to the castle?"

"Not yet."

His tone brooked no dissent, so Gwen didn't even bother. Instead, she girded herself for what she knew was coming.

Warily, she watched as Arthur paced the small cavern. For a long while, he remained silent, the scuff of his shoes against the ground the only sound she heard.

"Are you planning to kill me?" That thought had suddenly popped into her head when she realised that she was all alone with the prince. No one would question her disappearance - perhaps Merlin, but as much as Merlin was her friend, his loyalty to Arthur was unshakeable.

That question stopped Arthur in his tracks. "What kind of question is that?"

She shrugged, not saying anything.

He sat down again next to her. His thigh brushed against hers and she shifted away.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said in exasperation. She could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"But you don't trust me."

"No. I've never seen you interact with Lancelot before nor has he mentioned you before. Why is that?"

"Maybe you're just not very observant." It was probably the height of foolishness to provoke him this way, but there was something about the prince that got under her skin.

"And maybe you're lying." He stretched his legs out. "Attack is the best form of defence. Good strategy."

Gwen smiled before she realised what she was doing. "What do you think I'll get from this lie?"

Arthur ignored her question. "I don't like liars."

"I don't need you to like me," retorted Gwen immediately.

He turned to face her and despite the urge to lean away from him, Gwen kept still, tilting her head up so she could look him directly in the eyes, rules be damned. His breath fanned against her cheek, a sign of just how close he was to her. "If I find out that you are putting the safety of my knights or my kingdom in jeopardy, I will -"

"You will?" Gwen whispered.

Despite the dim surroundings in the cave, Gwen saw Arthur's gaze drop to her lips, where it lingered for a moment, before it went back up to her eyes. She swallowed, unnerved both by the change in the look in Arthur's eyes and the way her own heart had decided to speed up.

"Hello?"

Gwen jerked back, while Arthur scrambled to his feet, his hand already at his sword. "Gwaine?"

"Oh good. Thought you might have let the bandits kidnap you. Is Gwen with you?"

"She is," said Arthur as he offered her his hand. "We're fine."

Gritting her teeth, Gwen pushed herself up onto her feet. Pain shot through her leg but it was worth not accepting Arthur's help. But just as she stood up, she stumbled and Arthur's outstretched hand reached for her, grasping her waist while his other hand grabbed her elbow. Her chest slammed into his, and she gripped his shoulders. Under her hands, he seemed solid and strong and Gwen hated that she noticed that. Lancelot, she told herself, would be just as well-built.

"Stubborn woman." Arthur's voice rasped in her ear.

"Getting to know each other, I see." Amusement tinged Gwaine's voice as he approached them.

They jumped apart, and Gwen wobbled again. She steadied herself by leaning against the cave wall.

"She's injured," said Arthur coldly, stepping even further from her. "Did you get our horses?"

"I found Llamrei but Gwen's horse must have been spooked and escaped. Merlin is outside keeping watch. Gwen can ride with me."

"I'm sure she would rather ride with Merlin. But you can help her out of the cave." With those words, Arthur stalked out.

Gwaine offered her his arm and this time, Gwen took it, leaning against him as they slowly made their way out.

The smile that broke across Merlin's face raised Gwen's spirits and she let go of Gwaine's arm so that Merlin could sweep her into a hug. "Don't do this again! I'm used to Arthur's dangerous shenanigans but not yours."

Feeling lighter than she had since being grazed by the arrow, Gwen laughed and squeezed Merlin. "I'm glad you came back."

"We travelled halfway back to Camelot when we realised both you and Arthur were missing," said Merlin later, after he'd tucked her in front of him of his horse. "Gwaine was pretty certain that Arthur could take care of himself, but I thought it would be best to turn back. Looks like Gwaine was right."

Back in Camelot, Gaius tended to her calf, before insisting that she take a few days of bed rest. She hobbled to Lancelot's room after that, feeling obliged as his fake betrothed to look in on him. Gaius had said that there had been no change in Lancelot's situation and sure enough, he still lay there on the bed. Slowly, she eased herself into the chair next to the bed, trying to ignore the throbbing in her calf. Colour had returned to his face and he appeared to be breathing well, but he remained unconscious, not responding to her recounting of the day's adventure.

"For some reason, Prince Arthur thinks I'm lying about us - which I am - but he seems to think that there's some nefarious scheming behind it all." Gwen shook her head as she remembered his harsh warning. "It's just all a horrible misunderstanding, isn't it?"

Lancelot continued to breathe, his chest rising and falling regularly. Gwen watched him, just lying there, her eyes drinking in his form. She'd been doing that every evening the past four nights, watching him, examining the finer details of his face - that tiny scar under his nose, the direction in which his hair curled, the slight bump on his left ear. But this evening, as she looked at him, all her mind would see was the prince's blue eyes.

"How is he?"

As if her imagination had conjured him up, Arthur stood in the doorway. Gwen stood slowly, and curtsied. "My lord. Lancelot is still the same as yesterday."

He nodded and Gwen had the feeling that he wasn't actually there to check in on Lancelot. After a moment, during which he stared at her and Gwen stared back at him. Then, he walked into the room. This time, instead of sitting on the other side of Lancelot's bed, he walked around and dragged a chair next to hers. He sat, then gestured for her to sit.

"Entertain me as we sit vigil over Lancelot."

"You don't have to be here. I'll look after him."

Gwen couldn't be sure but she thought he smiled at her words. She relaxed a little, sinking further into the chair.

"How did you meet Lancelot? Knights and maidservants rarely mix."

"Don't be foolish. Knights and other royals mix with the servants all the time. I'm sure you've mixed with your own fair share of servants."

"But they don't marry them."

"Few are as honourable as Lancelot."

Arthur just made a noise in his throat. It was a while later that he asked, "How did you meet him?"

"He, um, he patrols near my house in the evenings. We met, and things went from there."

"And yet, no one from his patrols has ever mentioned you."

"I did not realise the knights love gossip as much as the servants," said Gwen.

This time, Gwen was certain the prince was smiling. "We are all human, aren't we?"

A scoff escaped her and she quickly bit down on her lower lip, wishing Arthur had not heard it.

"You disagree?"

"No, my lord."

"Tell me. I am very interested in your views."

She shook her head. "I am just a maidservant. My views are unimportant."

"Guinevere -"

"You may say that everyone is human but there are some humans who matter more than others. You, for example. Whereas, had I not been betrothed to Lancelot, I would have been invisible to you."

"You're not invisible to me anymore," said Arthur. Then, he stood abruptly. "I have duties to attend to."

Gwen watched as the prince stalked out of the room, half-suspecting what she'd said had upset him. He deserved to hear the truth, she thought in annoyance as she tried to ignore how her heart had sped up when he'd said she wasn't invisible to him.

Arthur dragged a hand over his face as he left Lancelot's chambers. What was he doing? Flirting with Guinevere? Just because he couldn't stop thinking of her ankles? He didn't have enough fingers to count the number of ways that was completely inappropriate - not least because she was either betrothed to his best knight or working for Hengist.

Night had enveloped the whole town in darkness, punctuated only by flickering torches. Alone, on the training grounds, Arthur practised. He liked the solitude - it was the only time when he felt like himself - not a prince, not the leader of the Camelot knights, not his father's son. As he moved his feet and swung his sword, he let his mind wander. Usually, he'd imagine being a farmer, living in a cottage far from the main town, where he didn't have to worry about bandits incursions or his father's obsession with the evils of magic or his people's constant demands. But for some reason, in his mind tonight, he wasn't thinking about being a farmer or any of the other jobs he sometimes gave himself.

Something made Arthur look up and his eyes landed on a figure walking slowly down the main castle steps. The figure was too far away for him to make out the features, but he knew who it was. That the figure was limping was confirmation. Sliding his sword back into its sheath, Arthur walked towards the courtyard, towards the figure.

"You shouldn't be walking," said Arthur when she finally stopped in front of him.

"Then, how would I get back to my home?"

"I'll walk with you."

She frowned. "That would be highly inappropriate, my lord."

"Escorting my best knight's future wife back to her home when she's injured? It's entirely appropriate. Take my arm."

Arthur didn't think that she would actually do as he asked, but after a moment's hesitation she did, leaning her weight against him. How much pain must she have been in? Stubborn woman.

"You're a bossy one," she muttered.

He should have known better than to expect gratitude from her. "Comes with the job."

They walked towards her home in silence. He opened his mouth several times, but he didn't know what to say or even what he wanted to know. So in the end, he said nothing. She looked straight ahead, clearly unwilling to speak with him either,

"This is my home."

"It's a smithy," he said, the first thing that popped into his head.

She shrugged, moving away from him. "My father was a blacksmith."

That was another of those jobs he'd thought about. "Sometimes I think about what it is like to be a blacksmith. Must have been nice."

He must have said something wrong, because even though her body was no longer leaning against his, he could sense her tense up. Then, despite her injury, she whirled to face him and jabbed him in the shoulder.

"Nice? If you consider having just enough to survive nice. If you consider trying to earn a little more and being executed for it by a cruel king nice."

"Gwen."

"Leave me alone."

She turned sharply again, but her injury made her slow and clumsy, so Arthur was able to grab her arm. She winced and he loosened his hold.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know -"

"Of course you didn't know. My father was just another one of the many your father killed because of sorcery with no evidence." Her voice broke, and she dipped her head, burying it in her hands.

Part of him urged him to leave - this was getting messy and Arthur never dealt well with emotions. But he listened to the other part of him, reached for Gwen and pulled her into a hug. For a moment, she remained stiff. Then, she relented, sinking into him, her face pressed into his shoulder. She trembled as she sobbed, and Arthur tightened his hold.

His father had executed many people he accused of sorcery and Gwen was right. Arthur had no recollection of which one was Gwen's father and what exactly had led to the accusation of sorcery.

When she stopped sobbing, she eased herself from his hold, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hands. "I'm sorry. I know you had nothing to do with it."

"My father - he - he really believes magic is evil."

She sniffed. "My father was not using magic - he didn't know the man who had hired him was a magic user."

"I'm sorry. I wish - your father must have been a good man." The words just tumbled out of his mouth, empty, meaningless words that would never make up for the injustice his father had committed.

She nodded. "He was. He was a great father."

"What about your mother? Does she run the smithy now?"

"No, my mother - she died when I was young. She got sick and then, she stopped fighting the illness and died." Gwen's tone was matter-of-fact, but her hands clutched at her skirt.

"So it was just you and your father." Arthur was still suspicious of her sudden betrothal to Lancelot - that was why he was prodding her with these questions.

"Me, my father and my brother, Elyan."

"Does your brother run the smithy?"

She shook her head and a wry smile twisted her lips. "He's run off. Needs freedom or something. Didn't even return when our father died."

"I'm sorry. My mother died while giving birth to me," said Arthur, unsure why he was telling her this. He rarely spoke about it, the thought of his mother's death often bringing with it the memory of his father, staring out of the window and saying, in the coldest voice, that Arthur was the reason Ygraine was no longer alive. They had been fighting - over what, Arthur no longer remembered - and despite his father's attempt at an apology, Arthur never forgot those words.

"It's not your fault," said Gwen immediately. "Childbirth is always a risk - so many things can go wrong. But it's never the baby's fault."

The wind started to pick up and Gwen shivered. Arthur also realised that she'd been standing on her injured leg for far too long. "Come, we should go inside."

Again, she hesitated, before pressing her lips together and opening the door to her small house. He stepped in behind her, then closed the door. His chambers were larger than her house. A bed was placed at the back of the room and the front had a small stove, a cupboard and a table with some chairs. He nudged her forward until she sat on a chair.

A half-used candle stood on her table and Arthur picked up the tinderbox next to it. He fumbled with the flint, until he heard Gwen laugh quietly. Her hands covered his and she took the flint and steel from him. Deftly, she lit the candle, tucked the everything back into the tinderbox and put it aside.

"I guess you don't light fires often."

"No," he said as he sat down on chair next to hers. "Thank you."

Surprise widened her eyes. "For? Lighting the fire?"

"For saying it's not my fault." He reached out and covered her hand with his. "I don't know if I believe it, but it's good to hear."

"You should believe it," said Gwen. "Whoever said it was your fault was wrong."

Arthur smiled. "I've noticed that he's been wrong pretty often. Do you remember much about your mother?"

"Some. But I forget more and more as the years pass. Father didn't like talking about her much - too much pain, I suppose."

"Tell me."

"Why?" she asked.

He didn't know why either. "Please?"

Her eyes studied him for a moment, then she spoke, quietly at first. Her name was Mary and Gwen spoke about how she worked as a maidservant for one of the royal families in the area. In the mornings, she would spend time with Gwen, either playing or telling her stories, before she left for work. In the evenings, the whole family would sit around the table for dinner and they would talk.

Gwen's face was a kaleidoscope of emotions, shifting from affection to joy to grief. By the time she stopped speaking, he was still holding her hand, this time, her fingers were tangled with his. He reached over with his other hand, brushing away the silent tears that had fallen as she spoke about finding her mother dead and continued as she spoke about Elyan.

With only a candle burning, the shadows flickering across the walls and their faces, the two of them were ensconced in an intimate bubble. Arthur liked the way she talked - the honesty in her emotions.

"I always wondered if it was better to have not known my mother at all. This way, I don't miss anything."

She smiled at him, a real smile this time, and something swelled in his chest. "Perhaps, but I wouldn't give up the time with my mother for that."

"My father won't talk about my mother. He even removed all the portraits of her. Gaius says I have her hair and her eyes, but he doesn't say much else." He shook his head. "It's not like I can ask the council. People like us, we don't talk about such things."

"You can -" Arthur didn't know what she was going to say because she abruptly yanked her hand from his, and just like that the bubble burst. She swallowed. "Thank you for walking me home. It's getting very late and -"

With whatever strange spell broken, Arthur realised just how inappropriate it had been. He looked at her, the exhaustion in her face, and he stood. He wanted to thank her for her openness. He wanted to demand that she tell him the truth about her and Lancelot. He wanted to find her brother for her.

"Take the day off tomorrow," he said instead.

"Good night, my lord."

"Good night."

Light flooded the room and his covers were pulled off him unceremoniously. Flinging an arm out, Arthur felt for a pillow which he immediately used to cover his face. He'd been dreaming of a woman with soft curves and kind eyes, and Merlin had, unsurprisingly, completely ruined it.

"Arthur!"

"Go away, Merlin."

Merlin shook him, then when Arthur refused to respond, he took another pillow and hit his legs. "Get up!"

"No. Go away or I'll send you to clean the stables."

"Lancelot has awakened."

"Merlin, I said - what?" He pushed the pillow away and sat up. Blinking, he tried to focus on Merlin. "What did you say?"

"Lancelot is up. Thought you might want to know that."

"Does Gwen know?"

"I'm about to go get her," said Merlin. "Now that you're up. Surely you can dress yourself."

Arthur rubbed his eyes. "Yes. Go let Gwen know."

After Merlin rushed out of the room, Arthur sat at the side of his bed, resting his arms on his legs and burying his face in his hands. He should be happy that Lancelot was awake. Lancelot was his best knight. And now, he'll find out just what Gwen was up to.

He squeezed his eyes shut and images of Gwen's face in the candlelight danced behind his lids.

She arrived, limping still, at Lancelot's chambers after he did. Again, her hands clutched at her skirts, giving away the fact that she was nervous. Was she nervous because her lies were about to unravel? Or was she nervous for the same reason his heart started racing the moment she arrived?

"Gwen," said Merlin, taking her hand and leading her into the room.

Her head bowed, she allowed Merlin to pull her to the foot of the bed. Arthur saw her suck in a breath before she raised her head to look at Lancelot.

Lancelot smiled widely. "They tell me that you're my betrothed."

She blinked, confusion replacing the nervousness in her eyes. She looked around the room, until her eyes met Arthur's. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his flesh, reminding himself that whatever happened the night before, he had no right to comfort her.

"Lancelot doesn't remember a lot of the past few months," said Gaius. "But I hope this will be temporary."

"I'm sorry," said Lancelot and Gwen broke eye-contact with Arthur, dragging her gaze back to Lancelot. "The knights tell me that you've been tending to me the past few days. I'm honoured to have such a caring betrothed."

"We should give them some time together," said Gaius. "I'll return this afternoon to check on Lancelot. Perhaps Gwen will be able to jog his memories. An emotional bond is often the best."

Gwen still looked shocked and confused, but she nodded. "Can Merlin stay with me? For a while?"

"Of course I will," said Merlin.

Gwaine patted Arthur on the shoulder once they left the room. "Glad to know Lancelot is fine. He's lucky to have Gwen. If it had been me, I dread to think who they would ask to help get my memories back."

"Probably the barmaid," said Leon with a laugh. "You spend enough time there."

The knights continued to laugh and joke as they walked down the corridors, clearly relieved that Lancelot was on his way to recovery. Arthur was glad that Lancelot was awake too.

He was.

AN: Thank you for the encouraging comments and for reading!