A/N: Consider this an alternative to season 3, episode 11, "The Sorcerer's Shadow", which had zero Guinevere.
"Arthur, should we really be venturing into the forest again after... well, you know," Guinevere says, memories of her almost-banishment still fresh in her mind.
"My father is confined to his bed for at least two days, Guinevere," Arthur says. "Gaius says his stomach problem will have him wishing to stay very close to his ch—"
"Yes, I understand, no need to go into detail," she replies. Uther and Morgana have both fallen ill with the same stomach ailment, which Gaius says may have been caused by some poorly-prepared food they both ate, but could just as easily be a contagious illness, so he has confined them to their chambers.
(Unbeknownst to them all, Merlin is the one responsible for their ailments, magically given in a fit of childish ire after what the king and his ward almost did to both Guinevere and himself.)
With Uther and Morgana under quarantine, Arthur and Guinevere are free to spend some time together without worry of discovery. Arthur had decided it was the perfect time to take her on an outing into the forest. "Nothing bad will happen this time, I promise," he had assured her. When she still hesitated, he kissed her hands and confessed how helpless he had felt at the prospect of her banishment and how panicked he became when she was sentenced to death. "I couldn't bear the thought of you out here alone, not when I knew it frightened you so," he whispered. "While I can't do anything about a... a death sentence, I can help you with this. Please. Let me take you into the woods." Touched by his concern, Guinevere agreed, and in a matter of hours, they were riding their horses at a walk through the forest.
"You see, Guinevere? Nothing to fear out here," Arthur says, guiding his horse along the path, riding alongside her.
"Well, no, because, as you said before, I've got you," she replies, smiling.
"Ah, yes, but if you somehow wound up out here alone, I do not want you to be afraid," he says. "That is the whole purpose of this outing. To show you there is nothing to fear."
"Except bandits. And wild boars. And poisonous plants. And... any mother animal with her young nearby. And..."
"Guinevere," he says, drawing her name out. She stops thinking of ways she could meet her end. Stops speaking them at any rate.
"Sorry. I'm not helping," she apologizes. They hear a noise, up high and off to the left. "What was that?"
"A bird," he simply says. The wind picks up, rustling the branches of the trees. "That would be the wind."
"I know that's the wind," she replies, laughing. She looks up through the trees. "The weather is turning."
"We'll be fine," he says, pressing forward. They reach a small clearing and look around a bit.
"The sky is very gray," Guinevere insists now that she has a better view. "And the sudden change of the wind. It's going to rain."
"Probably. But not for a while," Arthur replies. "Come on. I see deer tracks." He starts his horse to walking again, and she follows. "I want to show you that animals are generally not interested in eating you or even bothering you. They are more inclined to run away if they even let you get close enough. In fact, when the wind is right, most animals will smell you well before you are anywhere near them."
It is then she notices that Arthur's voice is the only sound. The birds have gone quiet. "Arthur," she says.
"This way," he continues. "See those broken branches? It went through here."
She obediently nods, following him, but keeping an eye on the clouds.
"I'm sorry, I'm talking a lot, aren't I?" he asks. "I'm just very excited about getting to show you—" A fat raindrop lands on his nose. More start plopping down from the sky. "Bloody... " he curses. "This way." He leads them to another, larger clearing. He's been this way many times, and knows there is a small church just on the other side of Camelot's border.
They race across the clearing, and a rumble of thunder reaches their ears just as they secure their horses under a shelter. Arthur grabs Guinevere's hand and bolts for the church.
"Ah! There you are!" An elderly priest greets them, walking forward as though he is expecting them.
"What? We—" Arthur starts.
"Yes, yes, I know, you are in a hurry, but you won't be getting anywhere until this storm passes," the old man says. Now that he is closer, they can see the priest's eyes are hazy and glossy. He likely sees very poorly.
"Thank you, but we simply—" Guinevere tries
"Wish to get this taken care of as soon as possible, yes, I remember, dear," the priest says, groping for her hand and patting it reassuringly. "Can't have your father finding you now, and I can't say I blame you for being worried. The man is a brute and you're better off as far away as you can get," he firmly adds. "Come, come."
"Um, Father, do you know who I am?" Arthur cautiously asks, following as the priest walks towards the front of the church, Guinevere's hand still clutched in his. He didn't wear anything that would identify him as the Prince of Camelot, being simply dressed in his white tunic and brown trousers. His sword is at his side, but all that tells anyone is he has a sword.
"Of course I do, Robert," the priest says. "You and the lovely Jocasta here just visited last week to make all the arrangements."
The priest settles them in the front of the church, pushes Guinevere's hands into Arthur's, then starts talking. He speaks quickly, knowing the words by heart, moving so fast that the bewildered prince and maidservant are hardly able to understand them, much less comprehend what his happening.
The priest turns his foggy eyes towards Arthur, an expectant look on his face. When the prince doesn't reply, the priest raises his bushy gray eyebrows.
"Yes?" Arthur answers, perplexed. He opens his mouth to say more, but the priest has already moved on.
"And you, my dear?"
Guinevere looks at the priest, eyes wide. "Hmm? Oh... um, yes?" she answers, completely confused.
"It is done. The only thing that remains is the kiss, which I'm certain you can manage," the priest declares. "Come, come, don't be shy now," he prompts.
Arthur shrugs, feeling somewhat bullied by this half-blind old man, leans forward and places a sweet, chaste kiss on Guinevere's lips.
The priest softly grunts, as though he was expecting something more. Then he turns and lifts a roll of parchment from the altar. It is tied with a red ribbon. "Here are your papers," he says, handing the scroll to Arthur.
"Sir," Arthur says, his voice firm. "What is this for?"
The priest snorts. "Why, to prove the validity of your marriage, of course," he says. "I explained all this to both of you last week," he reproachfully adds.
"Marriage?" Guinevere squeaks, her brown eyes as large as saucers.
Arthur looks at her, mouth hanging open. "Did you just marry us?" he asks.
"What is the matter with you children?" the priest asks. "You were in such a hurry last week to—"
He is interrupted by the doors in the back of the church crashing open. Another young couple hastily enters, looking somewhat harried and rather wet.
"Father Sedgewick, sorry we're late," the young blonde man says, breathing heavily. "Jocasta's father was... well, I think he suspected she was leaving, and..." He looks at Arthur and Guinevere, standing at the front of the church. "Who are these people? You guaranteed us secrecy!"
"Robert, it's all right," the petite, dark-haired young woman says. "It's probably just another couple who have gotten married."
The priest squints hard, looking at Arthur. "You're... not Robert?" he asks.
"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Arthur says. "We aren't Robert and Jocasta."
"Oh, dear," Father Sedgewick frets. "Oh, dear, oh, dear..."
"We are... truly married?" Guinevere asks, dread pooling in her stomach. Uther is going to have me executed for certain this time.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," he says. "In the eyes of God, you are husband and wife. I hope the two of you are at least friends..." He wrings his hands. "However, that would explain that rather uninspiring kiss..."
"Excuse me, but we are in haste," Robert interrupts, stepping closer. Suddenly he stops, clearly recognizing Arthur. "My l—"
"Well, thank you for the... unexpected afternoon, sir, but I believe we will be going," Arthur says, cutting Robert off. He gives the other man a pointed look that clearly says Do not say who I am. Robert nods once, understanding.
"I am sorry... what is your name?" Father Sedgewick asks.
"It is of no consequence," Arthur answers. "Come, Wife," he adds, smiling tenderly at Guinevere. She places her trembling hand in his, and he kisses her cheek. "I will protect you. I promise," he whispers.
She nods, still shocked, as they walk past Robert and Jocasta. Arthur pauses, noting that, to someone with very poor eyesight, there is a resemblance. He reaches to his belt and takes out his purse. "Best of luck to you both," he says, placing the entire thing in Robert's hand. "If you are fleeing, you'll need some coin."
The young peasant couple stares in stunned gratitude at the prince. "Thank you," Robert finally manages, "my lord," he adds, quieter. He doesn't recognize Guinevere, but guesses she must be a commoner, otherwise she wouldn't look so terrified at the idea of suddenly being married to the prince. He can also tell they are closer than a prince and a commoner should be, but he keeps his tongue.
Arthur nods, claps Robert on the shoulder, then heads out into the rain with Guinevere. They decide to shelter with the horses. It's outdoors, but at least it's covered.
"It will be all right, Guinevere," Arthur says, sitting on some bales of hay. He gently pulls her down to sit beside him.
"How can you say that, Arthur? If your father finds out..."
Arthur exhales. "He will likely see if Geoffrey can find a way to dissolve the marriage. Especially because I don't plan on... pressuring you to... you know..."
She weakly smiles. His consideration for her warms her heart, but it does little to thaw the freezing cold dread that has encased it. "He won't dissolve our marriage. He will accuse me of using witchcraft – again – and have me imprisoned, then executed. And he may forego the imprisonment," she quietly says.
He takes her hands in his, kissing them. "I will not let him harm you. If he wants to kill you, he'll have to kill me as well."
Guinevere stands, too agitated to stay seated. "How are you going to stop him, Arthur? He's the king. And I'm not exactly his favorite person these days. He would order my execution as easily and casually as he orders his dinner." She looks over at him and sees that he knows she is correct. "He cannot know. He can never find out. No one can. This is the only way."
"Guinevere," Arthur says, reaching out to her again, this time drawing her onto his lap. "I know I haven't explicitly said it, but I'm going to say it now. I love you. I have for some time now, and I know I always will. All I want is to make you happy. Protect you from harm." He pauses, kissing her. Then he gently wipes the tears that have escaped from her eyes. "It was never my intention to tell my father about this. We will keep the parchment at your house, so it won't even be in the castle."
"Thank you, Arthur," she answers. "I... I love you, too. I'm just so scared."
He kisses her again. "I know. I am, too," he admits. "But we will get through this. We won't tell my father or Morgana, or..."
"Not even Merlin," she says. "I know you tell him everything, but..."
"I don't tell him everything," he protests. She waits a moment. "All right, perhaps I do. He is one of the few people I can truly trust though."
"I know he is trustworthy. He is one of my dearest friends, too, and I'm glad you have someone in whom you can confide... someone to whom you have unlimited access, I mean," she explains, knowing he was about to protest he confides in her as well. "It is not a matter of whether or not we can trust him."
"If only you and I know, there is less of a chance of my father accidentally finding out we are married," Arthur concludes, understanding. "If that is your wish, then that is what we shall do," he pauses, kissing her cheek, "my princess."
Guinevere closes her eyes. "This is going to be difficult," she softly says, growing much too comfortable with this close proximity to him.
"We've dealt with 'difficult' before," he reminds her. "Do you remember my promise, Guinevere?"
She nods. "When you are king, things will be different. We can be together," she answers, resting her head against his, deciding to savor this time with him. The rain is letting up, and they have now been gone much longer than they had planned.
"We will be together," he says, amending this part. "You have my solemn promise as a knight. As your husband." He leans away just enough to move back in and seal his promise with a kiss.
