Suspicion Always Haunts the Guilty Mind

"Guinevere…"

"Guinevere…"

Gwen's eyes shot open as she sat up in bed, terrified. It was still dark outside, a beam of moonlight trickled through the small opening in the curtains.

Someone or something was calling her.

She climbed out of bed, slipping her shoes on before heading towards the door. Her hand grasped the doorknob and slowly creaked the door open.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, falling backwards into her room. A looming figure stood over her, its hand on the doorknob.

She grabbed the object nearest to her, a broom that Lancelot had mercifully left in her room. When she wasn't in mortal peril, she would remind herself to give the man a week off. Not that she allowed him to do anything for her anyways, but it was the thought that counted.

Gripping the handle of the broom, she forced her "weapon" into her attacker's stomach with as much strength as she could muster.

He grunted and fell to the floor holding his stomach in pain. She then kicked his body, causing him to roll over onto his back.

It was Prince Arthur.

"What the hell do you think you're doing lurking outside my chambers? Did you think the only way to best me was when I was asleep and vulnerable?" Gwen smirked and offered a hand to help him up.

Arthur smacked her hand away and lifted himself off the ground, still holding his stomach in pain. "You were about to sneak out of your room, weren't you? Where were you headed, to our underground vault?"

She raised an eyebrow, "You have an underground vault? That's… very nice."

"I'm sure you think so, don't you?" he scoffed, glaring at her. "That's where you were headed, I'm sure of it."

Gwen shook her head in disbelief. "How long have you been outside my door?"

"I waited until your pretty boy left…"

She sighed, leaning against the frame of her door," Don't you think this is a bit excessive? A tad ridiculous? You haven't even gotten any sleep because you were suspicious of me."

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect Camelot from the likes of you," Arthur seethed. "You may have everyone else enchanted, but your spell has no effect on me."

"Look," Gwen said, feeling exhausted. "I don't know why you seem to have this grudge against me. It seems completely unfounded. The only thing I ever did was try to protect the weak. As it turns out, he didn't even need saving. If you want me to apologize for attacking you, I will. I'm very sorry for the misunderstanding. I was rash and didn't think anything through."

"If you think I'm going to fall for that--"

Gwen slowly backed into her room and tried in vain to block out the sound of his voice.

"—you've got another thing coming. You're up to something! How else did you gain everyone's, including my father's, approval so easily?"

Gwen, who was about to shut the door in the prince's face, turned toward Arthur. "I'm stealing all your attention away from you, aren't I? You just can't stand not to be in the limelight."

"That's not entirely true—"

"You're such a child!" she yelled. "There are people who have faith in you, Arthur, faith in what you represent for this kingdom. People have sacrificed their lives for their country and for you, their future sovereign. They must be terribly disappointed to know that they died for a spoiled, attention-seeking, brat."

"You can't speak to me like—"

"You make me sick, Arthur Pendragon," she seethed.

Then she slammed the door in his face, leaving him speechless.

"Gwyn," said a voice from above her. "Gwyn, Milord."

Gwen reached out and grabbed her pillow, nuzzling it with her nose. "Just a few more minutes."

Her pillow rumbled with laughter. "I know you want to sleep, but it's time to train. Or do you no longer wish to become a knight?"

Gwen's eyes shot open and she glanced upward into the smiling face of Lancelot. She blushed as she relinquished her hold on his midsection. How embarrassing.

"Much better," Lancelot said, offering her a hand. "Off we go, then."

She grabbed his hand. It was rough and calloused, the hand of a swordsman.

"Where are you taking me?" she managed to ask as she sprinted to keep up with his long strides.

He didn't answer and she didn't ask again. She supposed he wanted to surprise her. He led her outside the palace into the stables where even the horses were asleep. She wanted to join them.

"I want you to attack me. No weapons, just hand to hand combat." Lancelot's face was suddenly serious. The sudden change of emotion made her head reel. "Show me everything that you know, Milord."

Gwen was apprehensive. "I don't want to hurt you, Lancelot. I know you're trying to help, but—"

"Just trust me," he said, looking her in the eyes. She knew she couldn't refuse him.

She ran towards him, her fist in the air. Before she could even land a punch, however, Lancelot grabbed her wrist and flipped her over his shoulder effortlessly. Thankfully, she landed on a patch of hay. She shuddered to think what would happen if her back had actually connected with the ground.

"I expect that hand to hand combat is your weakest skill." Lancelot offered her a hand once again, which she gladly took. "Your size and stature put you at a bit of a disadvantage. Your best asset is your speed. Though your punches will be lighter than your opponents', you will be able to land several at a time if you focus. You can't just rush at me blindly and expect to hit me. Access the situation; look for weaknesses in my stance. Try it again."

This time, her eyes traveled his body. His upper body was marvelous, his legs, stunning, and, oh, what a mouth… one could write sonnets about it…

Focus, she told herself.

She tried again, making a conscious effort not to think about how utterly fit the man was. Her eyes landed on his left foot, which was slightly turned to maintain his balance.

She rushed at him again, pretending to aim for the same spot she had the first time. He raised his hand to grab her arm and, while he was occupied, she kicked the back of his left knee. He yelped in surprise as his knees buckled and he tumbled to the floor.

She placed the sole of her shoe on his chest and looked down at him. "Do you concee—"

In the blink of an eye, he wrapped his hand around her calf muscle and pulled her down on top of him. He then rolled over and held her wrists firmly to the ground, pressing his upper body onto her own.

"Does this feel at all familiar to you?" he asked, his voice a whisper in her ear. "This is how Arthur defeated you just yesterday. He used his size against you and you couldn't do anything to resist him—"

Gwen lifted her leg and attempted to knee him in the stomach, but he pressed down on her harder, making it difficult for her to breathe. She could feel every bit of his body on her own: the smooth planes of his chest, his calloused palms across her skin, the strong muscles of his legs intertwined with her own.

Lord have mercy.

"I'm going to hold you down until you find a way out of this." His words tickled her neck causing her to arch her back slightly.

What if I don't want to…

"What if I can't," she whispered, her voice sounding husky in her own ears. She wished she could hear the sound of "Gwyddno's" voice as well. If he sounded anything like she sounded now, she expected Lancelot would be growing quite suspicious soon.

"Then I'll hold you down like this forever," he replied.

As good as that sounded, Gwen knew it was important to break herself out of this trap or it would just keep happening to her. She wondered, if she could figure this out of she didn't have such a hard … head.

She smirked and brought her head up to connect with his. He released her hands and she crawled out from under him, her own head reeling.

"Not bad," he said, nursing the wound on his forehead. "That will only work if you're being held the way I was holding you: with your face looking upward. Otherwise, you use all your strength, turn to the side and kick your leg out as hard as you can. You will incapacitate your assailant. But your method was very inventive."

"You're just saying that." Gwen walked over to him and placed her palm onto his bleeding forehead. "I'm sorry about that. I have a very hard head."

"Indeed you do," Lancelot mused as he closed his eyes almost leaning into her touch. "You're very impressive, Gwyn."

"I'm impressive?" She just couldn't believe this. This man was a million times better than her. "You fight like a seasoned warrior. Camelot would be so lucky to have you for a knight."

"His lordship is too kind," Lancelot said, smiling sadly. "I once wanted to be a knight more than anything. But when I came to Camelot, I realized that my station was far more important than my skills. I thought I had come to nothing. Until…"

"Until?"

"Until I met you," he finished, looking away sheepishly. "You give me hope that, one day, I can join the knights of Camelot as I am. As long as there are people like you in the world, Gwyn, there is hope for people like me."

Gwen felt like such a fraud. She should be where Lancelot was. The only difference between them was stroke of dumb luck.

"You will become a knight one day, Lancelot," she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek and moving her thumb back and forth across his face. "I swear it."

"Ahem."

Gwen and Lancelot sprung apart and turned to face the intruder.

"Did I interrupt something?" the man asked, his face menacing. He was average looking, but something about him made Gwen think him ugly. "You may proceed if you wish don't let me stop you."

Lancelot bowed, "Sir Maleagant."

"Lift your head, Lancelot," she ordered, feeling sick to her stomach that a dignified man such as Lancelot should have to bow down to such a vile individual.

"You do what ever your master tells you to, don't you?" He smirked. "I knew you were far too pretty to be a real man. You're nothing but a useless fairy boy!"

"Yes, Milord," he said. Gwen wanted nothing more than to punch his face in, but she knew that this was Lancelot's battle to fight.

"You're spineless! You don't even have a will of your own. If your master's feeling lonely, you would be more than happy to oblige him on your hands and knees. Your master's so pathetic that he has to come to you to indulge him—"

Crack! Maleagant yowled in pain as he held his bleeding nose. Lancelot stood above him, cracking his fist in his hand.

"Say what you want to me, Milord," he said quietly, "but don't you dare say anything about my master. You're not even a fifth of the man he is."

"What the devil is going on in here?" Arthur stood in the doorway, his hands crossed over his chest. He glanced at Gwen and quickly turned away focusing his gaze on Lancelot.

"Sire," Lancelot said quickly, bowing his head. "Sir Maleagant insulted my master's honor. I taught him a lesson."

"I told you not to call me that," Gwen muttered, blushing. "It makes me sound like some kind of slave driver."

"He is nobility," said Arthur simply. "You had no right to strike him down."

"Surely that is no excuse for his behavior! Lancelot was just defending my honor as a loyal… manservant," she finished lamely.

"If you should ever hope to become a knight, you should know that you never let others fight your battles for you." He looked into her eyes, his gaze unwavering. "That is the mark of a coward."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "One should always have faith in his comrades. This was Lancelot's fight, not my own, but I was ready to step in if I was needed."

"Then Lancelot should face the consequences," Arthur said. "He must apologize…for being a spoiled, attention-seeking, brat."

Gwen hid her smile behind her hand to hide her smile. "Then he can start anew, since his apology is accepted."

"Thash it?" gurgled Maleagant. "Punisss him!"

"I'm sorry for being a spoiled, attention-seeking, brat," Lancelot said as he bowed to Maleagant. He then looked at Gwen apologetically. "I'm sorry… to have caused you any trouble, Milord, I'll be going now."

Maleagant grabbed his bloody nose and ran after him, his fists pumped in rage. It was just Arthur and Gwen now.

"You know, you could have just said sorry," Gwen said after a short silence. "It's really not that hard."

"It's a gradual process," Arthur said defensively. "You're a hard one to please."

"I didn't know that was your intention," she teased.

"This doesn't mean I like you or anything," he added. "I still think you're strange and haven't quite figured you out yet. But you bet that I'm going to work you as hard as ever."

Gwen nodded. "I wouldn't ask for anything less."

"Oh, one more thing," Arthur said, looking at her sternly. "If your servant ever assaults one of my knights in training again, for whatever reason, I'm placing the both of you in the stocks."

"I'd like to see you try," Gwen retorted. "Your father wuvs me, remember?"

Arthur shrugged, "Very well. I know you're quite fond of your servant. If I can't get to you, I swear I'll make life hell for him."

Damn, he was good.

She sighed. "Fine. I won't attack anyone without extreme pause."

"That wasn't what I was looking for, but I suppose it'll have to do for now." Arthur looked her up and down in disgust. "You should go bathe. You look like a stable boy. Make sure you're well dressed and rested for tonight. Father is throwing a feast in your honor."

Gwen cocked her head. "A feast?" Gwyddno must be much more important than I thought.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes a feast. I suppose you've been to one of those before?"

She hadn't, of course, but he did not have to know that.

"Don't drink too much," said Arthur, freeing her from her thoughts. "You need to be up bright and early for basic training."

Her eyes widened and, for a moment, she forgot herself and hugged him around the middle. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Get. Off. Of. Me." Gwen blushed and used her hand to brush off the front of Arthur's jacket. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I just got a bit carried away."

"Well, don't," said Arthur. His face was turning slightly red.

Gwen supposed he was getting angry at her. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry—"

"Quit apologizing or I'll change my mind!" Gwen scratched her head nervously. "Right, er, okay. I'll just be going now."

As she sped away in the other direction, Arthur wondered why it had felt so good to hold the young prince in his arms.

"I wish Uther would declare a feast in my honor."

Gwen and Merlin were sitting in her room at the foot of her bed. Gwen had called upon him to help her prepare for the feast. Lancelot understood; he was used to her need for privacy. He didn't even offer to give her baths anymore knowing she'd object. She knew she should be relieved at this, but all she could think of is how she let a golden opportunity slip past her.

She glanced at the clothing her "father" had sent her. "I never asked for this, you know. Go talk to Uther, I'm sure he'll change his mind."

Merlin laughed nervously. "On second thought…"

"Though I'm not sure why you're scared of him. You could squash him like a bug if you wanted to."

Merlin sighed. "I could indeed. But then what would you think of me?"

She picked up a jade outfit, deciding that the lavender one was far too flamboyant. "Who cares what I think?"

"I can think of a few people," Merlin replied, fingers at the ready. "Me, of course. Lancelot, Uther, the Lady Morgana…"

"Lady Morgana?" Gwen laughed. "That's hilarious, Merlin. She's far too beautiful, too graceful even for a prince like Gwyddno."

"I don't know," Merlin said in a sing-song tone. "I hear the ladies think "Prince Gwyddno" is quite the catch."

She held up the outfit against her chest. "I'll do my best to stay away from them, then. I forgot how fickle women could be."

"Is that so?" Gwen nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a voice at the door. It was Morgana. "Yes," Gwen said, without missing a beat. "Women can be fickle, men can be fickle…"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me," Morgana said with an elegant wave of her hand. "I've lived in this castle long enough to have seen what ugly creatures women can be."

"Well, clearly, not all the women of the court." Gwen said smiling. Upon seeing Morgana's slightly hopeful face, she backtracked. "I mean, Merlin is the most dependable person I know."

"Indeed he is," said Morgana slowly. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she curtsied to her and began to walk slowly out the door.

Gwen spoke up before she could stop herself. "I would like very much to be your escort to the feast this evening."

Morgana turned around and grinned at her. "Really? This will be so much fun! Arthur never asks to be my escort. What should I wear?"

"Calm down, Morgana, lest you transform into those awful ladies of the court for which we share a mutual disgust." Gwen had to fight to contain her laugh as Morgana tried to compose herself. "And I think you should wear green."

"I'll… think about it," Morgana said slowly. She walked out the door in a hurry, covering her face with her hands. When she was sure Morgana was out of earshot, Gwen asked Merlin. "I suppose you know how to dance?"

"I haven't seen Morgana act like this before," Merlin said, ignoring her question. "Not even when she used to have a crush on Arthur."

"She just looked so lonely. I just wanted to make her feel better."

"The road to hell…" muttered Merlin.

Gwen sighed, feeling slightly guilty. "I know, I know."

"So, I must confess," Gwen said nervously from behind the silk tapestry. "I don't really know how to dance."

Gwen and Morgana were waiting for their names to be announced so they could take their place on the dance floor. Morgana cocked an eyebrow. "Well, surely you've been to a feast before?"

"Of course," Gwen lied. "Father never made me dance, though. He knew I was a danger to anyone unlucky enough to be my partner."

"Well," Morgana said. "You know how to wield a sword, don't you?"

Gwen nodded. "Of course."

Morgana took her hand as their names were called. "Just think of me as your sword."

Gwen gave her an odd look. "Just trust me," said Morgana as the bright light of the throne room engulfed them.

Gwen placed her hand on Morgana's waist and held her hand in the other. She quickly thought of a sword technique: the crescent moon. She lifted her arm above her head in the first stance, surprised at how the move translated perfectly into their own little dance. Gwen pivoted, and twirled Morgana without even meaning to. Feeling more confident, she moved a bit faster and her muscle memory began to kick in. Step back, kick, turn, spin, dip, strike! She didn't even have to concentrate any longer. The moves just came to her. As the song ended, Gwen became aware of their position. She had dipped Morgana so low that her hair was touching the floor. Hurriedly, she pulled her up, smiling apologetically.

"Don't you dare look sorry," she chided. "That was brilliant!"

The crowd melted into view, all clapping, looking extremely impressed. "Bravo, Gwyddno!" said Uther, and the crowed quieted as he spoke. "Your father told me what a horrible dancer you are. I thought we'd all get a laugh, but I assumed wrong. Nevertheless, welcome to Camelot, dear boy. I hope you'll find that it suites all your needs."

"Thank you, sire," Gwen smiled. She felt the same chill run over her as she looked at the King. If she could help it, she would never look upon the king again. "Let the feast begin!"

Gwen turned to grin at Morgana, surprised that they managed to pull it off. Morgana opened her mouth to say something, but was rudely pushed out of the way.

"I'm the Lady Vivian," said a rather pretty blond girl. Her voice was incredibly high pitched. "Dance with me."

Gwen shook her head and walked around her, holding out her hand for Morgana. "I am Lady Morgana's escort, as you can see. She's the only woman I have eyes for tonight."

Morgana blushed prettily and took her arm. "You should teach Arthur the right and wrong way to treat a woman."

"Aye, I fear that one is a lost cause," Gwen said, shaking her head in mock defeat. "Even I can't work a miracle."

"You think because you managed to get a girl on your arm that you're suddenly invincible?"

Arthur stood behind them dressed in a dark blue-velvet outfit that brought out his eyes.

"Did Merlin pick that outfit out for you?" Gwen asked, smiling. "He has a good eye, that one." Arthur looked scandalized.

"No, I chose this. Merlin had nothing to do with it." Gwen looked around before asking, "Where is Merlin, anyway?"

Morgana lifted her arm and pointed to one of the long serving tables. "He's serving drinks with Lancelot."

Gwen looked over and bit her lip to stop from laughing. Both Merlin and Lancelot were sporting quite ridiculous feathered hats. Merlin waved goofily at her while Lancelot was trying to hide his face from view.

Arthur turned to look at her. "So, who taught you how to dance so I might learn from them?"

"It's our secret," said Morgana, with an upturned chin. "If we tell you, you'll be copying all our moves."

"Well then, next time, I'll escort you," retorted Arthur. "Then you'll have to show me or you'll look like an idiot."

Morgana shook her head. "You'll look like an idiot. I'll just be the damsel in distress stuck with a partner that's been cursed with two left feet."

Gwen couldn't help but smile at their childish behavior. She crossed her arms and began examining the ceiling until they stopped.

"I'll just take Prince Gwyddno, then. He dances like a girl, maybe no one will be able to tell the difference."

Gwen noticed something above her and cleared her throat. "Guys—"

"He's my escort! You can't have him." Morgana rolled her eyes. "Why do you always try and suck the fun out of everything?"

"If you weren't so annoying, I would have started escorting you ages ago. If you had only—"

"LOOK OUT!" Gwen shoved them both out of harms way with her free hand as the chandelier above her started to fall.

Arthur and Morgana skid across the floor and Arthur used his hands to cover Morgana from the rubble. When the dust cleared, Arthur looked around for Gwyddno. He didn't have to look very far. He was trapped underneath the rubble, completely motionless.

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

King Henry VI, Act 5, Scene 6, 11-12

Here's yet another chapter! Is love in the air? Maybe, but not between who you'd expect (or maybe you would... you're a sharp audience, you are) I had about a two hour break from studying for my final... final... and what did I do? I wrote this. I need help, therapy even.

You guys are so amazing with your comments! They've really helped me gauge whether people have caught on to the subtle hints or not or if they enjoyed my odd sense of humor. Thanks a million! They're really brought me joy in the dark times of final period.

Next chapter there may actually be some training and definitely some antagonism between two characters. Until then, happy reading, and don't forget to let me know what you think.

Miki-hime

P.S: I know chandeliers are a long shot, but they existed in medieval times, which started in the 5th century and ended in the 16th century. Even so, if the show can be anachronistic, so can I! Just not too much... Also, a little trivia, the titles of these chapters come from a famous writer. Can you guess who it is without looking it up? Even better, can you guess what works they come from?