Author's Note: The observant among my readers will notice I introduced Tom, Guinevere's Dad, in my previous chapter. I originally thought of having him dead, because he died in the series, but I just couldn't do it. I think Guinevere is going through quite enough without a dead Dad to deal with as well, so Tom is very much alive and will remain so. I knew Tom and Elyan would be useful characters because they allow me to show the impact of Gwydre's death on the wider family. I thought Tom would be interesting because he would see all too clearly the state Guinevere is in, because she certainly can't just now. I thought Tom might also be good for a bit of light relief every now and then, and Tom and Elyan, plus a few other characters I intend to use, do give the story some depth.
I should say thanks for the reviews I have received. One in particular moved me a great deal, because it is from someone who writes wonderful stuff. Check out 60 by kbrand5333, not to mention a bunch of other wonderful Arthur and Gwen fics, both au and canon. Awesome stuff!
As for this, I was asked in a review if I intend to write from Arthur's perspective as well as Gwen's. Initially I thought not, funnily enough. It made sense initially to write from Gwen's point of view, but allow Arthur's take on things to come out through her, until they come face to face. The problem with that is that it would only give you what Arthur does, what Gwen thinks he is thinking, which would hardly be unbiased and neutral because she isn't thinking clearly and neither is telling the other how they feel – which is sort of the whole point of the story. So, with that in mind, I realised Arthur needed to be heard and seen. Uther gets a look in in this chapter too.
What I will say, finally, is that I've checked out a few details, just minor things I wanted to get right in my head before I worked out for sure where I wanted to go with this, i.e. how to get events to where I want them to go, and I now have a pretty clear game plan. I won't say too much, but I will say I'm very much looking forward to writing what I have in mind.
Be warned, in its own way this chapter is one of the reasons this story is an M. I think it's fairly subtle, maybe not even an M at all really, but still.
Plip….plip….plip. Arthur Pendragon sat at his desk flipping metal paper clips into the small black desk tidy he'd had since he began working at Pendragon Homes, one of a chain of estate agencies his father owned. The desk tidy was one of those stupid, impractical things, a couple of long plastic tube shapes joined together, neither of which was big enough to hold more than a few pens and a pencil or two, with two shallow tube shapes on each end, presumably for paper clips, drawing pins and other such stuff, at least that's what he used them for.
Arthur had been working for his father for 7 years. Uther liked to tell people his son worked with him. He made a big show of making Arthur a director of the firm once he'd been there for a couple of years. He'd even gone to the expense of providing him with a company car, a silver grey four door thing which guzzled petrol as it if it was going out of fashion and cost the earth to run. Arthur knew he was probably single-handedly responsible for global warming, but in his defence he'd be able to plead that he was keeping the children of the local mechanic with a roof over their heads, and probably the latest model flat screen TV as well.
The job came with other perks. Arthur knew there weren't many people his age who could afford a couple of holidays a year and a decent 3 bedroom flat on the smart and still relatively new Albion Estate, in what estate agents liked to call 'an affluent area'.
Arthur had bought the flat, one of a series of smart new-builds, around the same time as he met Guinevere. Their relationship developed quickly. On the day Guinevere turned 21 Arthur asked her to marry him and she accepted, but her Dad was still recovering from a stroke he'd had a couple of years previously, a result, Arthur suspected, of years of working a lot of hours and raising two children on his own. Arthur knew he'd been raised by his father too, his mother having died when he was three, but he'd also had a succession of nannies. His father had a business to run and he'd always made it quite clear what came first and it wasn't his son.
Knowing Guinevere was reluctant to leave her Dad while he was still getting back on his feet, figuratively and literally, Arthur swallowed down his disappointment and suggested they wait a while before they married. Arthur could still see the relief on Guinevere's face at his suggestion. A couple of years later Tom was well enough to walk Guinevere down the aisle on their wedding day.
Arthur's mind went back over his wedding. He'd been as nervous as hell. He was convinced he was going to find a way to mess things up and make Guinevere run for the hills. For the thousandth time he turned their relationship over in his mind and asked himself the same question. What the hell was she doing with him? Guinevere was clever, funny and unceasingly kind. Everyone who knew her loved her. She was also exquisitely beautiful. Arthur knew very well if he walked into a room with Guinevere, nine out of ten of the men in the room would turn to look at her. The tenth man would either be trying to chat him up or they would have a guide dog sitting next to them.
Arthur Pendragon knew that though he had a good job, earned enough not to be considered wealthy, but was more than comfortable, and had a decent roof over his head, Guinevere Leodegrance was far too good for him. As he walked back down the aisle after the wedding, Guinevere on his arm, a vision of beauty in an ivory dress which showed off just enough of her figure to bring a smile to his lips, Arthur knew he was the luckiest man alive.
The couple honeymooned a few weeks after their marriage, in October, when Guinevere had been able to take some time off work. Until that time they'd enjoyed a couple of days at the hotel where they held the wedding reception. Arthur still cringed at the memory of their wedding night, or, he smiled wryly, the first part of it. Once they'd said goodnight to all their guests they made their way to their room. Obviously, he'd booked the Bridal Suite. Arthur knew he would never forget the look on Guinevere's face when she saw the room, its big king sized bed and en suite bathroom with a bath that was more than big enough for two. Seeing his chance to do something special, he'd asked the hotel to light some candles in the room. They'd done so, littering them around in groups on all of the available surfaces. They filled the room with a soft, warm light which made Guinevere's skin develop a honeyed glow. He'd picked her up and carried her over the threshold, being extra careful not to bump her head on the door frame of the room or trip over himself, such were his nerves. Then he set her down on her feet, her body sliding down his in a way that made him ache for her, but also made him feel even more nervous.
In the warm light of the room they reached for each other. They hadn't deliberately set out to wait until they were married to sleep together for the first time, but somehow there had never been quite the right moment. Guinevere always seemed busy with Tom or working. Arthur's father always seemed ready with a demand the minute Arthur appeared to be planning anything that didn't involve Pendragon Homes. Neither of them wanted to sneak off somewhere, as if they were doing something they should feel guilty about, so without even thinking about it they'd ended up waiting until they were married. Now the time had come and as Arthur kissed his new wife and began to undo the buttons on the back of her dress, he vowed to be perfect for her.
Afterwards, sitting on the side of the bed, naked as the day he was born, the once crisp white sheet pushed away to his knees and his back to Guinevere, Arthur waited for the floor to open up and swallow him. Shame coursed through his veins. He'd wanted perfection. What he got was finished before it had even begun. It was mortifying and messy. He couldn't look Guinevere in the face.
Guinevere tried to reassure him. She sat up on the bed, moving so she could sit right behind him. She must have been kneeling. In spite of not being able to see her, Arthur could feel her knees in the small of his back, but he didn't complain. He was too embarrassed to move. Then he felt Guinevere change position. She sat up and suddenly her whole torso was pressed against his back. She put her arms under his until her hands reached across his chest. Slowly, gently, she teased one of his nipples as she began to talk. She said it didn't matter. Arthur opened his mouth to contradict, but Guinevere didn't give him chance. She just kept talking, softly, quietly, while her hands started to roam. She said they'd waited a long time for this, it was no wonder they couldn't wait any longer. She said she'd been nervous too, but she said she loved him and they had time to learn about each other. She said they had forever. All the time her hands were moving, touching, stroking, teasing his body, coaxing him out of the shame he was wallowing in. Arthur eventually turned to her. She faced him, naked in the soft light of the room. Arthur took her in, her amber eyes glowing in the candlelight, her skin with its golden glow. He took in her body, her tiny frame disguising her strength of will, her figure with its elegant, sensual curves, her perfect breasts, their dark tips puckering in the cooling room. Guinevere looked at him, open, warm, her eyes shining. Slowly she opened her arms and reached for him.
That night Arthur Pendragon learned that perfection was worth waiting for.
When the newlyweds eventually did go away on honeymoon Uther paid for their trip. Guinevere, typically, tried to see it as a generous gift, an all expenses paid holiday in Barbados, but in reality they both knew the truth. The honeymoon was yet another way for Uther to flash his money around. It had the advantage, from Uther's point of view, of being able to show up Tom, who would never have been able to afford such a gift, but it also gave Uther a say in when he expected his son back to work. He made it abundantly clear that he expected Arthur to be back at his desk in two weeks. It was in these moments when Arthur knew all to well, he may be a company director, but to his father he was just another employee.
A short time before they were married Guinevere found a job. She worked as a carer for a local care agency. At first Arthur couldn't really see the necessity for Guinevere to work, especially doing something like that, which to his eyes seemed menial and beneath her, but he knew Guinevere wouldn't see it like that so he kept his views to himself. He recalled Tom asking if she would give the job up after the wedding. Guinevere had been adamant she wouldn't. She insisted she wasn't working for the money, knowing she didn't need to, but she said she enjoyed helping people and loved the job. When she put it like that Arthur didn't have the heart to argue with her. He pushed down a thought that he'd be wasting his time anyway. Guinevere was easy-going, kindness itself, but she was also fiercely independent.
When they'd been married for a year or so, Guinevere discovered she was pregnant. Arthur knew they probably shouldn't have been surprised. They might not have actively been trying for a baby, but they weren't actively not trying for one either. They were still newlyweds really, he reasoned. It was natural that they would spend a lot of time together within that first year of marriage. It was equally natural that most of that time would be spent in bed, in the shower, in the bath and, surprisingly enough, on the kitchen table once or twice. They'd even discovered a use for the gas guzzler of a car he used. For once Arthur had thanked God that the car had plenty of room.
Arthur still remembered the day Gwydre was born like it was yesterday. He'd gone to work that morning as normal. Guinevere had mentioned something at breakfast about having a bit of discomfort, but when he questioned it she'd told him not to worry. She told him it was probably just the baby practising for the main event and nothing to get excited about. When he left her he kissed her goodbye and told her to phone if she needed anything, or, and he gazed down towards her bump before giving it an affectionate pat as he spoke, if anything happened and she needed him at home. She laughed when he said all he had to do all day was a couple of showings for some new properties just outside town and then he had a meeting with his father, so if she could arrange to go into labour it would be fine. Guinevere had shooed him out of the door and waved him off, watching him through the living room window as he pretended to drag himself away.
Later that day Arthur was sat in his office with his father, stifling a yawn as Uther droned on and on. Then, just as he was beginning to lose the will to live, the phone rang. Uther shut up and glared at Arthur like he'd willed the phone to interrupt. Arthur smothered the urge to laugh by pretending to cough. Then he answered the phone. "Good afternoon, Pendragon Homes, Arthur Pendragon speaking." Arthur tried to sound approachable without sounding over cheerful. He couldn't stand it when he phoned companies and found himself greeted by someone who thought the idea of sounding business-like was to practically sing down the phone or sound like you were talking to an old friend. He went for a tone of approachable efficiency. It worked every time.
There was a bit of a pause before the reply came. "Arthur?"
Arthur smiled brightly, which earned him a frown from his father. Arthur straightened his face quickly. "Hello love, is everything all right?" He asked the question instinctively, knowing full well she would probably tell him everything was fine.
"I think my waters have just broken and I'm pretty sure – no, I know I'm having contractions." Guinevere replied, answering her husband's question calmly, as if what she'd just said was an every day thing.
"You….You what?" Arthur's heart began to pound. He was sure Guinevere would hear it on the other end of the line. He felt the colour draining from his face. He knew he'd probably just sounded really stupid, but he didn't know what else to say. Her words and the calm way she'd spoken, had knocked the stuffing out of him.
"I said I think my waters have bro…."
"I'm on my way love, give me five minutes and I'll be there!" As Arthur interrupted his wife he was grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. He noticed his father's eyes widening just slightly, as if he was wondering what was going on. In that moment Arthur didn't care. The baby, his baby, was coming. He told Guinevere he was on his way right now, totally ignoring her attempt to tell him not to panic, there was no immediate rush, and put the phone down.
"I have to go, Guinevere's in labour" Arthur said urgently, walking towards the door as he spoke.
"But our meeting, we have things to discuss Arthur." Uther frowned, rising from his seat on the other side of the desk.
Arthur turned back to his father briefly, willing himself to be calm. He didn't have time for an argument now. "Not now father, all I need to do now is get home to my wife and take her to the hospital. Then I need to spend the next few hours, or the next day, or however long it takes, holding my wife's hand, wiping her brow or doing cartwheels by her side if she needs me to, to support her while she gives birth to our baby, your first grandchild. What I don't need now is to be standing here talking to you. I need to get home to Guinevere."
For some time after Arthur wondered if he imagined the change that came over Uther's face when Arthur's words sank in. He seemed to soften, just for a moment. He looked younger, brighter, than Arthur could ever remember. Then, equally quickly, the expression on his face changed again. He looked unutterably sad. "Would…..would you tell Guinevere…Would you tell her I said good luck?" The words came out quietly, huskily, as if Uther had something in the back of his throat.
Arthur looked at his father in bewilderment. He couldn't quite believe his ears. If he didn't know better he would swear his father was near to tears. He'd never seen his father cry. He wasn't even sure he was capable of such a thing. Yet, there he was, almost in tears. "I will, I'll definitely do that…Thanks."
Arthur stood in the doorway of his office, facing his father, not quite sure what had just happened, not even sure if he'd imagined it or not. Suddenly the gulf between them seemed to shrink just a bit. Arthur didn't quite know what he thought about that. Part of him wondered if he'd got his father wrong all this time. Maybe Uther wasn't the cold, hard man he imagined. Maybe he did care about things other than his precious business.
Arthur looked at his father and then, swallowing, he opened his mouth. "Look father, I know things haven't….."
Uther's face changed yet again. Suddenly he was Uther Pendragon, Chief Executive and owner of Pendragon Homes again. He met Arthur's gaze with a glare. "I thought you said you were going?"
Arthur Pendragon's mouth fell open, shocked at yet another change in his father's manner. Then, shaking his head in confusion, he turned towards the door and left before Uther could change again.
