Shared Chambers: Home

Rating: T

Characters/Pairing: Arthur/Gwen {slight Merlin in this one and OC}

Word Count: 4,874

Warnings/Spoilers: spoilers for 5.01-5.04/ mature situations, not too explicit

Author's Note: This is another 'Chambers' fic, filling in some of those A/G moments of 5.04: Another's Sorrow. Thanks for all the lovely feedback/follows etc…

TTT

The fire within the hearth was just a dim glow. The light upon the room was minimal. The bed coverings contained just a pair, the man holding the woman's waist, the woman clasping to his hand in sleep. They slumbered close, quietly. His faint snore was one that during the years of marriage she had grown accustomed to. If it reached the annoying proportion she had a little trick of tapping his nose. It always got him to stir a bit grumpily, moving his arms around until finally he settled back down and snored just a little less loudly.

His fingers had climbed from the blankets in the night to cup her chest lightly, but possessively. It held one breast now with sleeping enjoyment. Their bodies were so close together; it would be easy to feel his leg, her thigh, his manhood, at ease for now, her toes pressed against his ankles. They knew each other nakedly. They knew each other profoundly. Many conversations were shared here. Many stirrings of passion.

But now. Just sleep. Quiet eased slumber, until the noise, until the stirrings below wakened one.

"What is that?" Arthur lifted his head, the sleepiness drifting quite rapidly. He felt his wife's breast at the cup of his hand. Unintentionally he squeezed with reaction to the noise. It took her only moments to be awake too, her own hand coming down upon his, feeling him there, but even more-so feeling his alarm.

"It sounds like it's from downstairs."

He released her and made his way determinedly to the window, seeing a flurry of activity on the steps below. "I need to find out what's going on." He started to head to the door, but then she was up, her hands encircling and pressing firmly upon his chest. "Arthur, you are not dressed enough."

He looked down, giving a roll of his eyes self-deprecatingly and then turning back, "Neither are you."

She wasn't. Earlier he had a trying day. She surprised him by being in bed already when he came in, wearing nothing but his blue tunic. So now he only wore a thin feeble pair of breeches. Needless to say, they had gotten into some marital physical exertions earlier.

"Right. But I'm not the one who was rushing to the door."

He gave her an acknowledging look, before rummaging around and finding them, his white tunic and pants.

"I want to see too." She told him, helping him get the tunic down his chest. He gave her a glance over of busied appreciation. "Not like that you won't."

She grimaced, pressing a fast kiss against his lips. "Find out what it is. I'll be there in a moment."

TTT

It was many moments later that they were back in their chambers together. Merlin had come by earlier to tell Arthur of Mithian's condition after he found out it was she who had come through the gates in the middle of the night. Now after changing into her nightgown, more suitable wear while Camelot had visitors, Gwen noticed how her husband was sitting at the table, quill in hand, but no writing getting done.

"You should come to bed. There's nothing more you can do there."

She watched as he twirled the quill in his hand mindlessly, the same as he flipped the sword often when fighting. But that of course was with brain control. "Why do you think she came? So late? I asked Merlin. He gave me no answers. I wish I could ask her. But Gaius says she needs to rest."

Gwen knew her husband well. He sometimes could sleep like nothing would ever wake him, but other times he did this.

He sat at the table and tried to get the paperwork that usually annoyed him, done. But instead he just fiddled with the quill. Because his mind was so troubled. That it was troubled about Mithian could be thought as interesting, considering years ago he nearly married the woman.

Well, Arthur told her that was basically just a way to tell his heart to shut up. It didn't work.

She gave a sigh, moving forward, taking the quill out of his hand and seating herself upon his lap with wifely privilege. His hands didn't move to hold her until she pressed an intimate, somewhat noisy kiss upon his lips, affectionate puckering, sliding mouths, and then his hands were firmly on her waist.

"You'll drive yourself mad trying to figure what this is about." She caressed his chin and cheek with her fingers. "In the morning we will know. Alright?"

He looked up into her eyes. She could see the wonder there as he assessed her quietly, leaving his troubling thoughts for a moment. "How can you always be so calm? It's surprised me from that time I stayed with you, until now. How much peace you have."

One hand pressed into her back, settling over and lifting at the soft material of her nightgown. The other found her neck and moved down between her breasts, tunneling with distracted desire into the valley there.

She sighed at the warm intimate pressure, fingers latching into his golden blonde hairs. "You have the same peace. You just are not always aware of it."

"I'm always jumping up and ready to do battle. We go through those endless hours of meeting with nobles from here and there and I'm ready to jump out the window from boredom. It's only your hand discreetly pressing down upon my arm holding me back."

She smiled, one hand leaving his hair to stroke at his thin white tunic, even further to his chest as she kissed his cheek, whispered against his face. "Come to bed Arthur."

"Mmmm…" He moaned, kissing her neck sleepily. "I didn't finish my work here." It was a weak protest.

She clasped his hand, pulling and getting him to stand with her. "In the morning. After we talk to the Princess. Now come…"

"What if she's in some kind of trouble?" He asked suddenly as they moved to the bed, getting her to stop.

Gwen nodded patiently, hand pressing against her husband's chest. "We will find out in the morning. For now she is safe here in Camelot."

He brought his head up and down in understanding, but she could feel it in his body as they lay down together, he upon his back and her curling into his side. Arthur was still worried. She felt no jealousy for it. Arthur never loved Mithian, but he liked her, cared about her.

It was what Gwen loved most about her husband, his open heart.

It was the true value a king should have she believed. His greatest love, his greatest passion was reserved just for her, here in their shared chambers and elsewhere. But that didn't constrict his heart from being open to others in a gesture of kindness. And for that she was grateful, and so was Camelot.

TTT

A night later, Arthur sat at the table in his chainmail, going over the plans one more time. His wife had just asked him with concern if this was about Odin which he quickly, but patiently denied. Really it wasn't of course. He wanted to help Mithian and her father.

Now he looked up, seeing Guinevere sitting on the corner of their bed, watching him strongly. But of course as soon as their eyes had a glimmer of connecting she looked away, like she was fussing with something else.

Giving a sigh, Arthur walked over to her.

"You don't believe me."

"What?"

He stopped her from fussing with the bed coverings, taking her hand into his as he sat on the bed's corner with her. "About Odin. You think I want revenge still, don't you?"

She simply gave him a pensive look, bordering on disapproval. He was well accustomed to it as he nodded. "Yes…I knew it. You do."

She said nothing still. And Arthur sighed heavily. Guinevere's silence could rattle the nerves of the highest dignitary. She was excellent at it. "I don't take joy in killing anyone Guinevere. I hope you know that."

She frowned, touching his hands, the chainmail too unyielding. "I do. Arthur, take this off?"

She asked, but she wanted it off. No question. And well now he did too. "Yes. I can't wear it all night."

"You need sleep if you are to ride out so early."

"I know."

It was said that children sometimes slept with security blankets. He had one that his mother had gifted him with before he was born. Interestingly, he would find out years later, after marrying, it had been woven by his wife's never known mother. And so now it was lovingly folded within the wardrobe.

So this, his chainmail, was sort of his security. It made him feel strong, ready to fight. And he wanted to fight now. He was hungry for it. But he meant what he told his wife too. Killing brought no joy.

It was about protection for him. It was something his heart had always contained. He never wanted friends or allies to be hurt. He desired so fervently to shield, even if it took him away from the wife he loved. Even if it played cards with his own life.

She lifted away the chainmail carefully, unbolting it. He could feel how she took cautious thought to make sure it didn't tangle in his hair. And then she helped him remove his gambeson, until he was just in his red tunic.

Emotionally, Arthur moved against his wife, seeking her arms and finding them wrap around him warmly. He clutched her shoulders, resting his chin. "I try to always fight for what is right. What is noble. I don't seek vengeance."

She caressed his hair with her fingers, holding him securely as she whispered for him to hear, "I understand that. I know you are not bloodthirsty. But you too have a past with Odin that is filled with pain for both of you. I want you to just be careful. Camelot needs its king." She gave a trembling sigh. "I need my husband."

"Guinevere." Arthur pulled away from her now, seeing his wife's rare display of vulnerability.

"I always come back to you, don't I?" He lifted her chin firmly, but gently, to get her eyes to focus upon him.

"Yes you do. Bruised and scraped, more scars than I care to see, but you do always come back. Alive. Smiling."

He smiled now, before pressing a passionate kiss against her lips, feeling her tongue circling his with hunger as he delved deeper. Ever so deeper, before letting go, feeling the moisture of her sweet taste still lingering against his lips as he pulled away to tell her, "And I will again. I don't know what will happen when I face Odin. I just want you to know that this is truly about Nemeth and Mithian. Whatever quarrel I have with Odin, I will not let it take over the true purpose."

Her lips curved, but her eyes looked not so certain.

Arthur held his wife close, thinking of her usual peace, his heart wanting to use it.

For his mind, no matter what he said, was still stoutly focused on the man he'd finally confront. The man who killed his father. The man whose son…he killed.

Odin.

TTT

A baby was in her arms.

Gwen cradled the child with a wondering smile. It was an interesting predicament. Lady Sandra, wife to Sir Stephen, was off visiting someone in town. Her maiden suddenly took ill. Gwen's maiden offered to help, but then Gwen ushered her off, saying that the Lady Sandra was supposed to be back within moments. She'd tend to the baby.

Well moments turned to an hour. And now she had just finished humming the child to sleep, feeling rushes of happiness at having a baby in her arms. It took away some of the worry of having your husband away for so long, possibly in grave danger.

She peered down to look. The little infant girl, wrapped into a lovely embroidered blanket was resting at her breast and shoulder. Gwen spontaneously pressed a kiss against the child's forehead. She and Arthur wanted children, but Gwen's mind often resisted having one yet.

It horrified her to think of having a child with her husband battling against the consequences of him going off on these missions. If he wasn't to return, then what would happen? What would she do with a baby that had his eyes or his hair? How would she go on?

She couldn't fathom it and so her body seemed to put up a wall and she didn't complain about it. As for Arthur, he never gave question. He loved her so much, he was content for them to have a child whenever the time was right.

A knock came at the door, stirring Gwen out of her thoughts. She looked down upon the sleeping babe. "Well that must be your mother. Come now."

She moved to the door, seeing Lady Sandra there, practically spitting out apology.

"Oh my Lady. I am so sorry." She rushed to get the baby from Gwen's arms, but Gwen just lifted her hand patiently. "Oh now stop. No apology needed. It is not like I couldn't have had one of the servants take her. I welcomed the chance." She smiled down at the precious sleeping girl and then gave her back to her mother with a lingering sigh.

She watched as her mother held her reverently, stating spontaneously. "I'm sure you and the King will have your own to care for soon." She put her hand over her mouth. "Oh I'm sorry for being so presump-

"Sandra." Gwen pressed her hand against the other woman's arm. "Enough. You are right. We will when it is time." Gwen gave another sigh and moved away from the noble woman, standing at the window pensively.

Sandra started to excuse herself. "Well, yes then, I should go. Thank you so much-

"Do you worry for him? Do you ever fear that Stephen may not return?"

Gwen turned back now, feeling a bit of moisture in her eyes, trying to wipe at it, but it found its way down her cheek. "Do you ever, Sandra?"

The noble lady holding the baby to her breast, walked forward. "Every time he rides out."

Gwen nodded, holding out her hands, feeling Sandra take them. She whispered, "We must all be strong for each other. I am always scared that Arthur might-

"I know. I know how you feel." This time Sandra didn't apologize. It was truly a shared emotion. Their husbands rode out and they never knew if-

Interruption came. The council was meeting in a few minutes. A dignitary from another land would soon be there. An issue in the citadel needed to be dealt with.

Obligations of royalty. Political needs that made her lift her hand to her face as Gwen brushed away the stray tear. But she clasped Sandra's hands for a second longer, whispering for only her ears to hear, "Thank you. Having a child to tend to was just what my heart needed."

Sandra smiled emotionally, whispering back, "We will celebrate when they come home."

Gwen's peace returned, she nodded, before Sandra left, "Yes, we will."

She pushed the pangs of her heart backward, mind at full force. She needed to be Queen now.

She needed to always be the ruler in charge in her husband's absence.

Temporary…

Absence. Her heart squealed.

Needing to believe.

TTT

Home.

Odin accepted his pledge of peace. A truce between their kingdoms now held. It was Arthur's endeavor to continue it, building up alliances, building up Camelot to always be safe, always have a net.

Mithian was with her father who would heal so that they could rule Nemeth securely again. Everything was in place. So now, he shrugged off his clothing after Merlin assisted him with getting his armor off. He wrapped a towel around his waist and waited for his servant to finish getting the water prepared.

When Merlin told him it was ready, both he and servant turned as someone new walked into the room. Arthur watched her with scrutinizing eyes. She was wearing one of his favorite dresses. He didn't even bother choosing just one. The woman could be wearing a shapeless sheet and make not only his heart stir, but other important body elements.

Now she was in blue satin that plunged at her necklines to reveal a tasteful hint of her full luscious breasts. It locked in her waist to accent everything that was free of the golden blue hanging belt. She in it, stirred his loins feverishly.

Merlin, who usually needed a brick's force of a clue, seemed to have it now gratefully, because he looked from him to her with a sheepish smile upon his face.

Arthur paid him little heed, taking in his wife's beauty as she no doubt was taking him in, with nothing but his towel on.

Sometimes the hardest parts of leaving Camelot were the nights. For years he had grown accustomed to sleeping alone. Now he was selfishly blessed to have her by his side every night he was at home. It made the ground feel harder when his bedroom was the wood. It made the peace of nature loud when he yearned for her soft breath's lullaby. And even with all his men around, Merlin somewhere nearby, it made him lonely. Missing love and more.

"Well. Guess I'll be going then. Er, my Lady."

Arthur, his eyes still heavily on her, watched as Guinevere acknowledged his servant with a friendly smile, telling him, "Thank you Merlin. For tending to Arthur's bath. I think I shall now assist."

Merlin grinned knowingly. Arthur could feel it directed right at him, but clearing his throat loudly, he chose to ignore it.

"Well then I'll leave you two…"

Arthur rolled his eyes. No doubt Merlin was still gauging for reaction. He wasn't going to get any.

"Alone."

"Thank you Merlin."

He could hear his wife's patient response. Arthur was looking around, getting ready to throw something if Merlin didn't stop hinting at that he got the hint, but stubbornly stayed put. Or stupidly. Either could be the case with Merlin.

"Alright…Gwen…Arthur…"

Still Arthur said nothing, although his hand was fisting. Merlin often went back and forth with it, addressing them regally and then just calling them by name. Honestly he didn't really care. "Merlin."

"Bye."

Just that one low throated warning was all it took. Merlin fully excused himself finally.

Alone, Arthur took in his wife's smile as she made her way over, assessing his current ware, or lack thereof. "I approve." She whispered, bringing her hands over his shoulders.

"Do you?" He asked teasingly.

She nodded her head slowly. "Yes. As handsome you are in all your armor, you are even more handsome with it off."

He latched onto her waist, fingers gathering and clutching the vibrant blue satin. Quickly she was up against him, her full breasts pushed up against his naked chest. She let out an excited gasp as he brought his head down to hers.

They had returned during the daylight hours, his first time seeing his wife in the presence of everyone. So all he could do was kiss her longingly, feeling her hold so fervent and then let go. Next it was just some handholding in the halls and as meaningful as that was, sharing personal space was much better.

He heard her answering moan as he didn't just kiss her, but pressed his mouth hotly, achingly against hers. After days and nights in the wood he was thirsting for her sweet moist taste. He wanted that feel where his heart beat faster and his body throbbed. Another kiss soon after, he pressed it on so far that he had her against the wall.

She looked up at him with pangs of desire, stroking his chest. "Arthur."

He told her truthfully, "When Odin threatened my life, knowing Morgana was behind it, I knew I had to surrender. I hated it, but we were outnumbered, her power greater. I knew my knights would avenge my life. I knew Camelot would be ruled properly with you strongly at the stead, Merlin in his own silly way assisting, but still…I couldn't imagine dying and never seeing you again."

"Don't." He felt her hands push against his lips, silencing him. "No more."

Her fingers were on the towel, untying it, letting it fall. And then her hands…

"Oh…" Arthur moaned. Her fingers on his chest. Between his legs. He gestured to the bath feelingly. "Join me."

She said nothing, her hands still on his body. He let out a sigh of determination, grasping the material of her dress, whispering hotly into her ear, "Turn."

"Oh." She breathed and heeded. Arthur lifted his hands. Pulled apart the hooks. Got them all done and then gathering the material with a strong grip, pulled it down to her waist. Just some bustling. He got that past too. Pushing it away impatiently and then…

Heard his wife's fervent reaction as her head came back against his shoulder. He encircled her body, cupped her breasts and gave a short squeeze.

"Arthur."

"Come." He kept hold of one, his other hand holding tightly to her waist. At the bath, he finished lowering her dress, all the rest of her attire and when she was wearing nothing, her body glowing softly from the trickle of lowering sunlight that had found its way through the curtain's tiny gap, he gently pushed her forward. She sat down in the bath and he sat down too, behind her. He lifted her chin, kissed her passionately, and then after opening his eyes, gave a giggle.

"What?" She asked.

"There's no soap in here."

"Are you sure about that?" She teased, trailing a finger down his chest.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh I think I can find something…sudsy." Her finger lowered, fondled between his legs. "And hard enough definitely."

He groaned, squeezing her waist. "Trust me. I'm a man of throbbing excitement right now."

She grinned at that. He then stated dryly. "But I'm also a man craving a bath. I'm a bit dirty, understand?

"Bad job." She grimaced.

"Yeah." He stated. Then before he could say anything else, her hands were off his body. She was carefully escaping the bathtub, and looking around the room. She looked from one side to the other and as she did her curls of hair were not the only thing bouncing around. He stared at their jiggles of plumpness.

"Do you see it Arthur?"

"Eh?"

She fisted her hands at her waist, which was more erotic than menacing when she was fully unclothed. "Are you even looking?"

"Intently."

She lowered her eyes to her breasts before giving a huff of annoyance. "Arthur!"

"Well I don't know where it is." He complained, finally looking to her face. "Merlin brought it in. Blame him. Find him." She started to go straight to the door.

Arthur gaped, yelling out anxiously, "Not like THAT!"

She giggled, giving him a teasing look. "Oh you are too gullible at times."

She shivered suddenly, holding her body. "And I am getting cold. You see it nowhere?"

He searched more strongly, seeing a bucket a few paces away from where she was standing. "There. That's it I bet."

It was. She brought the bucket with the soap over and carefully stepped back into the tub. Arthur moved fully against its edge to give her room to sit down. Then when she was, he frowned. "Goosebumps."

"I told you I was getting cold."

He stroked her shivering skin.

"I must warm you up."

"Yes, but first your bath. Now relax."

He did against the bath's edge, feeling the sudsy cloth being lowered to his chest. Over his dirtied arms. Circling his waist. Scrubbing at his ankles and knees.

"Ah."

He let out a gasp of pain, pushing her hand away.

Her head lowered, her hand carefully bringing it out of the water. He knew when she fully saw the bruise.

"How?"

"Odin's men. Forced me to my knees. I hit one too hard. Hurt. Hurts still now some."

She looked unhappy at that, her hand stopping its ministrations. Arthur let out a sigh, touching and grasping one of her curls. "Guinevere."

"You could have been killed."

She wouldn't look at him. "I wasn't."

"You could have been."

He gripped her waist, brought her down against his chest. Murmured in her hair. "I wasn't."

She held him tightly for a long time. He brought his chin over her head, looking forward, saying nothing. His words wouldn't comfort her now.

She probably would have in some ways had an easier life if she married a farmer. At least she wouldn't have to fear for his life so much.

Oh they had the spoils of royalty in the castles, servants to serve them, but they too had to serve Camelot, and that meant he couldn't just be king. He had to be warrior too. Sometimes he loved it. Other times, now that he was married, he simply prayed to return home to his wife.

Slowly her hand started moving again. The cloth crept up his legs and in between. He grasped her waist, whispering a hiss of emotion. "I need you. Now."

"I need you the same." She told him back.

He smiled softly, and grasping her waist found the other side of the tub. He pushed her up and back against it. His hands found her legs. Spread them at the thighs. Her feet were braced on the tub's bottom, but still he had to ask, "Alright?"

She simply nodded her head, and he grasped the cloth, brought the soapy suds over her body. Washed them off. And then with her wet, with her clean and him clean, he tongued his way down her chest. Caressed her breasts. Fingered her nipples. Feeling her legs bounce against him with reaction. Her hand found his hardness and held it, stroked it ever so lightly.

"I love you." She whispered against his hair. And he nodded, telling her the same. Her fingers got him hard, alert. His moved between her thighs. Rubbed. Teased. They slid in. Wet all her body. Wet even more her intimate opening. He gently pushed away her ministrations. Settled himself between her thighs, making sure his body's weight was not forcing her down.

And then, he pressed forward. Felt the walls of her womanhood enveloping him, inviting him in. She clutched his back, her fingers driving down it with the intensity of emotion that his entering her brought. He pushed in more and then…

"Arthur…" She murmured. One hand was at her waist, keeping their positions in place. The other was at the tub's edge, gripping some of her hair. Moving inside, pulling out, the water of the bath waving with their exertion, rippling over their increasingly heated bodies. He kept his eyes on her. Every time she deigned to look away, tried to close hers, he shook his head, grasping a little too tightly to her curls. "No. Guinevere, watch us. Watch your husband."

"Oh." She did, pulling him in tighter against her, scraping at his back with her zenith of need. "Arthur. Never leave me."

"Never…" He echoed back, his thrusts a little faster. Deeper. Holding her in place. Held in place in kind by her fingers squeezing the skin of his back. He not letting her go. She not letting him go.

He missed her so much when he had to go away. Missed her voice, soft and low, but so full of authority. Missed her touch, always loving, giving. Missed the feel of this. Love intensely made. His manhood full of life, throbbing inside her.

And climax just on…

"Oh."

The brink. The water splashed out of the tub as she forced her lips against his shoulder to keep from crying out and he grunted it all down, his own reaction.

And when it was done, her wet against him, his manhood a passionate trickle within her, he peered over the bath's edge. Saw that they had spilled out quite a bit of soapy water.

"We made a mess."

She laughed softly at that, even more as he muttered,

"I'll get Merlin to clean it up."

She questioned dryly, "After you explain to him how all that water got out of the bathtub?"

He changed his mind rapidly. "You're right. I'll clean it myself."

She laughed some more, holding his damp head against her shoulder and breast. "I'll help you."

His teeth bit down lightly, his lips smoothing over the affected area afterward. "Mmm…home."

He could feel her holding tightly, agreeing completely.

Together. In each other's arms. Nakedly. Openly. Skin touching, caressing, fondling skin. Lips parted for the other pair of lips. Eyes closed, held in forever peace.

Love, rippling, swirling, overflowing like the water of their passionate bath.

All of it, entwined, loved and nothing more, nothing less

That they were.

Here in shared chambers

Here in their most intimate…private

Home.