Chapter Seven
A.N. This chapter features Arthur in a very bad mood, and it turns out Arthur in a bad mood means Arthur swearing.If this offends you, don't bother reading. Nuff said!
Gwen woke up to stomach cramps once more. She rolled over in bed and groaned. The first couple of days were always the worst.
She got out of bed and went to take a shower, massaging the shampoo and conditioner into her hair slowly to distract herself from the cramps. She dressed quickly and then texted Morgana, asking her to bring some painkillers down to breakfast with her. After spending a few minutes making some adjustments on a dress she was working on, she headed down to the restaurant, trying to remember just how last night had ended.
It was with a sinking feeling that she remembered falling asleep – he had, too, she was sure. However, he had obviously woken up before her, ensuring that it couldn't count as a proper sleepover and therefore stopping their golden rule from being broken. She smiled slightly at this, but was still worried.
No matter how hard she tried not to think about it, Gwen still felt as if she and Arthur were using each other – and it was still making her feel dirty. She would give it a few more days, she decided, just to see if she still felt the same way she did; and if she did, she would have no choice but to break it off – she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up.
When she arrived at breakfast she smiled when she saw Morgana had saved her a seat next to her – everyone else had already arrived. As soon as she sat down two painkillers were pressed into her hand by her friend. 'Girl problems?' whispered Morgana.
Gwen nodded and grinned. 'Thanks.' She put both the pills in a glass of orange juice and glugged it down in one. When she put it back down she noticed Gwaine was staring at her from the opposite side of the table with a large grin on his face.
'That's my girl!' he called over the other conversations. 'Downing a drink in one... we should take you out more often...'
She laughed and began to stock her plate with toast and butter.
'Oh, Gwen, we were talking about it before you arrived – this Saturday night at the theme park – remember, the one with the maze? – there's a huge firework display and bonfire and party. We were all thinking of going. Are you up for it?'
'Er.' She wracked her brains to think of anything she might be doing on Sunday that could be affected by a hangover. Nothing came to mind, so she said, 'Yeah, all right.'
'Brilliant! The fireworks are outside, obviously, but the party's going to be in this massive tent thing that they're setting up. It's cheap, too – you pay something like ten euros when you enter and then it's free drinks for the rest of the night. Gwaine will have a field day.'
Gwen smiled at this and continued with her breakfast. 'Is everyone going, then?'
'Oh, yeah – almost the entire crew, I think. I've got a feeling there'll be more British than French.'
By the time they finished breakfast, Gwen's cramps were almost non-existent, and didn't return for the rest of the day at work. It was a Wednesday, meaning that they had tomorrow off, and at dinner Morgana managed to persuade Gwen to spend the day shopping with her in town. It had even been suggested that they get an early train and spend the day in Paris. This amused Gwen slightly – in the life before she had joined Camelot Film Company, she would never have dreamed of simply getting on a train at a moment's notice and going to another city just to shop.
On the way to their rooms from the hotel lounge at the end of the night, they fell into their regular walking pattern: Gwen and Arthur walked Morgana to her door, and then carried on to their own rooms together. Once they had said goodnight to Morgana there was silence for a moment, until Gwen said timidly, 'Arthur... about what happened last night -'
'Don't mention it,' said Arthur quickly before she could go any further. 'I know we came close to breaking our number one rule, but I think it would be best if we just didn't talk about it and... brush it under the carpet, so to speak.'
Gwen paused as they reached their rooms. 'I think that would be for the best,' she said finally. 'Goodnight, Arthur.'
'Goodnight, Guinevere.'
She turned her back on him and let herself into her room, shutting him out. It was several seconds before Arthur came to his senses and did the same thing.
As soon as Gwen heard Arthur's door click shut, she sank down onto the floor, resting her back against the door.
She had never been one for crying – the last time she had properly cried had been at her mother's funeral five years ago – but this was the closest she had come to it since then. There really was no getting away from it: she felt dirty, and she hated it. She had to end it. She had to. The only question now was when.
Not wanting to dwell on it any more tonight, she quickly got changed and went to sleep.
Arthur was rudely awoken the next morning by someone banging loudly on his door. 'I'm up,' he groaned at them with as much strength as he could muster before flopping back down onto the pillow.
'No, you're not,' said a voice. It took Arthur a moment to recognise it a Merlin's. 'You're already falling back to sleep as I say this now. Come on, Arthur – you've got to be in make-up for six.'
'What?' he looked over at the time on the DVD player. It was five in the morning.
'Honestly, you've had to do make-up calls this early before.'
'Yeah, but still...'
'And besides, if you don't open the door in the next ten seconds, when you do finally come down for breakfast I'll tip cold water on your head -'
Merlin didn't even have to finish his sentence before the door was flung open to reveal Arthur in nothing but a t-shirt and his boxers, eyes half-closed and hair sticking up in all directions. He grinned broadly. 'Morning,' he said brightly.
'It's all right for you,' Arthur muttered, rubbing his eyes, 'you don't have to sit in a chair for two hours to get plastered in stuff that you really want to rub off but can't...'
'Don't worry,' Merlin said cheerfully, 'you'll have Morgana to share your misery.'
'Great. Hang on – isn't it her day off? I thought she and Guinevere were going to go to Paris?'
'Nah, Uther rescheduled last minute. I'll see you in the restaurant in twenty minutes, all right?' He looked Arthur up and down, shook his head slightly and smiled before bounding off down the corridor and out of sight. Arthur was just about to close the door so he could go in the shower when the door opposite to his opened and Gwen stepped out.
'Guinevere!' said Arthur automatically.
'Arthur,' she replied, taking in his rather dishevelled appearance. 'Er... early make-up call?'
He nodded. 'I'm guessing you have to be there with Morgana. Shame you don't get your day in Paris.'
She pulled a face. 'Yeah. If only Uther could actually make his mind up about when he actually wants us -' then she remembered who she was talking to. 'I mean – I wasn't trying to suggest that – what I meant was -'
He smiled. 'I know what you meant.'
There was an awkward pause.
'So – er – do you think you'll be – er – done – by tomorrow night?'
It took her a second to realise what he was talking about. 'Oh – oh, yeah. It never lasts very long -' then she stopped talking when she saw how uncomfortable he looked. 'Yeah, I should be finished by tomorrow,' she finished quietly.
'Good.' He nodded. 'I'll, er, give you your reward tomorrow night, then. Shall we use my room?'
She hesitated. This was not what she had been planning; she was meant to be stopping their get-togethers; she was supposed to be cutting ties. But even as these thoughts were running through her head, she somehow found herself saying, 'Yeah, we'll use your room. Providing it's tidy, of course.'
What was she doing?
Why couldn't she just say no?
'Excellent,' he smiled at her. 'I'll, er, just go and put some jeans on...' he had the nerve to leave the door open as he put on black jeans, socks and shoes. For some reason, Gwen stayed where she was in the corridor, watching him dress. It was only when he came back out into the corridor and locked the door that she snapped out of her trance.
'Shall we?' he gestured down the corridor, and the pair began to walk to the restaurant. They didn't speak, though their arms kept brushing against each other, but as soon as they approached the ground floor they were sure to put a wide space between them. Morgana and Merlin were already at the round table, but apart from that the restaurant was empty.
They sat down on either side of Morgana and Merlin; at once, Gwen struck up a conversation with Morgana, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the two men. Arthur got the message and poured himself a strong cup of black coffee, doing his best not to fall back to sleep then and there at the table. Twenty minutes later, they had all finished and stepped out into the lobby area of the hotel. Two men were waiting for them with unreadable expressions; wordlessly, they took them outside and held umbrellas over the four of them as they stumbled into the waiting car.
The driver drove quickly, despite the pouring rain, and they arrived at the castle in a matter of minutes; they half-walked, half-ran under umbrellas towards the trailers, sighing in relief once they stepped into the warmth. As both the actors were in the make-up trailer together, Gwen had no way of avoiding Arthur, which she detested; luckily, he was being kept busy staring straight in front of him at the mirror while a team of four make-up artists painted his face with grotesque battle wounds.
Finally, nearly two hours later, both Morgana and Arthur were finished, both sporting extremely impressive battle scars and wounds. Morgana looked out the window and groaned when she saw it was still raining. 'At least we're filming inside today,' she muttered, and then turned to Gwen. 'Oh, the dress you made me – it's going to be ruined!'
'Don't worry, miss,' said a young woman who looked very official from her perch on the counter, writing on a clipboard, 'you're to get changed in the castle to stop the dress from getting wet. Now, we were going to take you over when the rain slowed down a bit, but it just seems to be getting worse, so we'll make a run for it, all right?'
'Okay. Come on, Gwen...' Morgana grabbed Gwen's hand while putting up a large umbrella with the other, and then the pair of them made a run for it, arriving in the castle within record time. At once, they were ushered into the Great Hall, where a large screen had been set up, presumably for Morgana to change in. Sure enough, the two women were pushed behind it by a stroppy-looking older woman; Morgana was told to undress herself while Gwen was handed the dress to put on the actress. She slid into the silk with ease, looking slightly sad at the scorch marks and rips that had been added on for affect.
A smaller make-up team came to put the finishing touches on Morgana's face and to check nothing had been smudged just as Arthur arrived with Merlin, fully dressed and looking slightly more awake than the last time Gwen had seen him. In a matter of minutes, they had begun shooting.
Unfortunately, nobody seemed to be in the right state of mind. Perhaps it was the weather, or the early hour, or the two factors combined, but Arthur kept forgetting his lines and Morgana kept moving to the wrong parts of the room. After the twelfth take failed, Uther walked onto the set and took both the actors into the corner, where they all sat down. After a whole twenty minutes of the trio talking quietly, they took their places once more – Uther behind the camera, Morgana leaning heavily on the table and Arthur slumped in his throne. 'Scene three hundred and thirty-two, take thirteen, and... action,' called Aggravaine.
They did the whole scene perfectly.
There was a long pause while they held their final positions until Aggravaine called, 'Cut,' in a slightly dazed voice. Gwen herself was mesmerised. Camelot Film Company truly was the greatest film company she had even known.
'Go from your twelfth line, Arthur,' said Uther crisply. 'No cameras, please, I just want to hear you say it again.'
Arthur recited the line.
'Again,' his father instructed.
He repeated the line again.
Uther leant back in his chair and frowned over at Aggravaine. 'Shall we -?'
Aggravaine nodded. 'We're cutting the line. No need to shoot again – we'll cut it in editing. All right, everyone, costume changes, please, and then we'll bring on Gwaine and Leon.'
Morgana and Gwen were once again sent behind the screen for Morgana to change into a different version of the same dress: this one was not ripped or scorched, and looked to be in pristine condition. Then another make-up team appeared, wiped off all Morgana's battle wounds and began to paint her as a beautiful, respectable woman. Once they were finished half an hour later, the crew were given ten minutes before starting to shoot again.
'Gwen?' said Morgana timidly. The two of them were still in their chairs behind the screen, hidden from the rest of the crew.
Gwen looked up from her book. 'Yes?'
'Do you – do you think Leon likes me?'
Finally. Gwen smiled at her friend. 'I think he's madly in love with you.' Then she added in a stage whisper, 'He may even love you as much as you love him.'
She blushed. 'I don't love him,' she hissed, 'and he doesn't love me.' She paused. 'Besides, even if you were right, and he did love me, why hasn't he said anything to me?'
Gwen smiled again. 'Well, why haven't you?'
Morgana' s eyes widened. 'Oh,' she whispered. 'I dunno, it's a bit awkward, isn't it? I mean, we're about to do our almost-kiss scene, and -'
'This is a kiss scene?' Gwen exclaimed. 'Why didn't you say so?'
'I thought you knew,' Morgana shrugged. 'Anyway, in a couple of minutes I'm going to go and almost kiss him...'
'Hang on. What do you mean by "almost"?'
'Our two characters almost kiss in this scene. We never actually do throughout the entire film, but there are about six scenes where we almost do, and this is one of them.'
'Morgana!' came Uther's voice over the screen. 'We're shooting...'
Morgana pulled a face at Gwen before the two of them stepped out; the filming began.
Overall, it didn't go too badly. Morgana and Leon's almost-kiss was filmed to perfection, in Gwen's opinion, and the day ended on a high. Morgana ignored Gwaine's teasing on how the not-kiss had went, while Leon just avoided everyone's eyes and went straight back to his own trailer without a word. Gwen thought he must be absolutely drenched until they also stepped outside and saw the rain had turned into nothing but a thin drizzle. Gwaine had dragged Morgana off to talk to her about something "very important", so Gwen found herself walking back to Morgana's trailer alone.
A hand snatched her arm and dragged her into the darkness between two trailers without warning. She was about to scream when she saw it was Arthur who had brought her here. 'Hello, Guinevere.' He leant forwards to kiss her, but she found herself pulling away. He frowned. 'What's wrong?'
'I -' she stopped. This was her chance. This was when it ended. 'I can't do this any more.'
'What?'
'I can't – I can't keep just meeting up with you for sex whenever we feel like it, Arthur. You might think it's all right, but it's not, and I can't – I just can't. I'm sorry.'
He let go of her wrist, feeling dazed. She wasn't stopping. She couldn't. 'Don't,' he whispered. 'Come on, we have a good time, don't we?'
She shrugged and smiled a little sadly. 'It's not working, Arthur. I know it; you know it.'
'I don't -'
'Look, we'll just pretend it never happened, all right? We'll do our best not to make it awkward for everyone else, we'll be civil to each other, and... that'll be it. It was a mistake, and I'm sorry that it's gone on for this long. Goodbye, Arthur.' And with that, she hurried away before she did something really stupid.
Arthur reckoned he must have stood there between the two trailers for at least ten minutes before he realised it had begun to rain heavily once more. By the time he had actually forced himself to move and stumbled into his trailer, his hair was plastered down to his forehead, his shoes were holding little puddles of water and his clothes were soaked through. When he shut the door and turned round, it was to see Merlin looking him up and down with a raised eyebrow. He let out a low whistle. 'What the hell have you been doing?' he asked.
'Mind your own,' Arthur muttered. He knew he sounded rude, but he didn't care.
Merlin threw him a towel, and he began to wipe his face dry, not caring about getting his stupid effing make-up on the white cloth.
'Arthur what've you -'
'Piss off, Merlin.'
'But -'
'I said piss off!'
Merlin looked surprised. 'Arthur,' he said quietly, 'we've been through this so many times. Getting angry at me doesn't help anything.'
'I don't care. Please, Merlin, I just need some time alone.'
'Will you be at dinner?'
He paused. 'I don't know. I'll text you.'
'Okay.' Merlin jumped down from his perch on the side and walked over to the door. 'You know where I am if you need me, don't you.' He opened the trailer door, pulled a face at the still-pouring rain, then put his hood up and ran over to the trailer that Arthur knew contained Gwaine.
Once the trailer was empty, Arthur sank down into the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. He couldn't even work out why he cared so much: they had both known it would have to end at some point, after all. But the problem was that he didn't want to stop. He hadn't realised it until now, but he actually looked forward to their nights together. He didn't want it to stop.
He hadn't wanted to stop.
She didn't see him at dinner.
Merlin said he was in his room, learning his lines for tomorrow.
It was for the best, she told herself sternly.
She didn't see him at breakfast, either.
Morgana and Gwen's day off had been switched to today, and Morgana stuck to her word: they got driven to the station and caught a train to Paris on a whim. They went in all the best shops – they even found a huge fabric warehouse where Gwen spent what felt like nearly all her wages on beautiful fabrics of all kinds – one of them, although she hadn't mentioned it, was for Morgana's premiere dress that she had promised to make all those weeks ago. They gouged themselves on every type of Parisian food they could find, and drank so many coffees in so many different cafes that by the time they got on their return train, laden with shopping bags, their heads were slightly buzzing.
They got back to the hotel at half eleven at night – they had eaten on the train – and the restaurant was closed, so she didn't see him then, either.
The next day was Saturday – the day of the bonfire party and fireworks at the theme park.
Everyone was going together.
At breakfast, they all sat together as usual, but the atmosphere couldn't have been tenser. Arthur and Gwen were sat on opposite sides of the table, both unnaturally quiet and hardly daring to look up from their plates of food.
'Oi, Princess!' called Gwaine, and Gwen looked up. 'You're not ill, are you?'
She shook her head. 'Just a bit tired. We did a lot of walking in Paris yesterday.'
'Well, you'd better be on top form for this party tonight. We've got half of it roped off just for our crew, and I'm expecting at least one dance with you.'
Gwen hesitated, and then grinned. Maybe it was time to live a little. 'You'll be getting more than one, don't worry,' she called back. Gwaine chuckled and took a sip of his coffee.
Arthur had the day off, but Gwen was working, meaning that they wouldn't have to keep awkwardly avoiding each other for the entire day.
The day went quickly, and before she knew it Gwen was back at the hotel in Morgana's room, both of them getting ready for the party. Gwen had finally decided on the short, tight, red dress that Morgana had persuaded her to buy back when they had first arrived in France and even took the time to straighten her hair – it took almost an entire hour, but looking at the final result she decided it had been worth it. She turned to look Morgana, who was wearing a black dress as short as hers but without straps, and black stilettos that were almost identical to Gwen's.
'Gwen?' said Morgana quietly just as they were about to leave the room. 'Are you – are you all right?'
Gwen blinked. She hadn't been expecting that. 'Of course I am,' she said brightly. 'Why wouldn't I be?'
Morgana smiled; their eyes met. 'You don't have to lie to me, you know,' she told her. 'Something's not right. No offence, but you're a terrible actress. Now, are you going to tell me what's happened?'
For a split second, Gwen seriously considered telling her everything; the temptation of just talking about everything that had happened with him over the past weeks – well months, really, right from their first encounter on the train. But she couldn't. She couldn't do that to Arthur.
She shook her head. 'There's nothing to talk about.'
Morgana smiled an annoyingly knowing smile. 'Yes, there is. I get that you don't want to talk about it right now, but you know you can talk to me about anything at any time, all right?'
Gwen smiled. 'Thanks, Morgana.' The two women picked up their clutches. 'Shall we go?'
Downstairs in the lobby, it was packed with most of the crew, all dressed up for the party. Someone had thought to put on some music while they waited for the cars to arrive, and it was difficult to hear each other over the loud beats. Finally, the cars arrived and they all piled in together: thankfully, Arthur and Merlin had been shoved into a different car from the rest of them. Gwen found herself wedged between Gwaine and the door, meaning that she had to lean into the actor's body to avoid being impaled by the door handle. 'Getting cosy already, Princess?' he whispered so no one else in the car could hear. She rolled her eyes in reply.
Gwaine leant in even closer and whispered, 'You've done something. I can tell.'
She turned to look at him, trying not to blush. 'What on earth are you talking about?' she said quietly, somehow managing to keep her voice steady.
He looked triumphant. 'You've been having sex with a guy. I can just tell; you can see it in your eyes. And now you've stopped. And you want to show him that you don't give a damn.'
Gwen really didn't see any point in lying to Gwaine. 'Yes,' she said in amazement. 'But don't tell anyone, please...'
'Your secret's safe with me.' He mimed zipping his mouth shut. 'But you're obviously not going to tell me who it is, are you?'
She smiled and shook her head. 'Sorry.'
'No problem. Want to forget all about him and get wasted?'
She grinned. 'It's so tempting.'
'Don't worry, I'm very good at getting people drunk.'
Gwen laughed at this as the cars pulled up outside the theme park; she shivered slightly as they stepped out into the cold; laughing again when Gwaine wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. 'We'll forget all about him,' he whispered as they went inside the marquee that had been resurrected. A large beaded wall with a deep red cloth covering the one gap was at the end, and the crew were led through to what was clearly the private part of the party that had been reserved for the crew members. There was a large bar in the corner, the lighting was dim and the music was almost deafeningly loud.
Gwaine took Gwen by the hand and dragged her over to the bar. 'Two of the strongest shots you've got, love,' Gwaine bellowed to the very attractive, skimpily-clad blonde woman behind the bar. She smiled at him and produced to small glasses of clear liquid. He blew her a kiss and then picked up both the shot glasses, handing one to Gwen; she took it gratefully, the anticipation growing. 'Cheers,' he mouthed over the pounding music, and they clinked glasses before downing their drinks together.
This wasn't Gwen's style at all – deliberately getting drunk with a flirtatious man – but tonight, she was up for trying something new. She just wanted to stop thinking about Arthur for one night – to escape from it all. If getting drunk would achieve that, then that was what she would do.
After just one more shot, Gwen happened to look across the dancefloor and saw Arthur standing in the corner, staring straight at her with a furious expression. After a second she realised it was probably because Gwaine had one hand resting on her bare leg. She felt a sudden wave of angry ripple through her: what gave him the right to be annoyed with her? He didn't own her, he didn't have any hold over her – not any more, anyway.
She was angry because he wasn't letting her move on.
Gwaine tried to follow her gaze to see who she was looking at, but as soon as she realised what he was trying to do she averted her eyes to the dancefloor instead. Gwaine got the message and whispered into her ear, 'He's here, isn't he? The guy you got involved with.'
She couldn't bring herself to look at him as she nodded. Gwaine chuckled, and pulled her to her feet. 'Come on, Princess. Forget about him. Dance with me.' They moved onto the dancefloor, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling their bodies closer together. They began to sway slightly, her dress rubbing against his t-shirt and jeans ensemble, and soon enough their hands had become entwined. He leant forwards so they were resting cheek to cheek, when he felt that her entire body was rather stiff and tense.
'Relax,' he said into her ear over the music. 'I'm not going to try anything. But if he's here, and he's either on the dancefloor or standing at the edge we'll make him realise what he's missing.' And with that, he started to dance properly with her.
Arthur felt like hitting someone.
Why was she doing this to him? Was she deliberately dancing so seductively with Gwaine, their bodies dangerously close? Was this part of her plan? To tease him to the point of madness, for a punishment after making her feel so dirty during all the nights they had shared together?
He downed the rest of his shot in one and put it down o a nearby table. It was a moment before he realised that Vivian had appeared next to him, her breasts practically spilling out of the strapless dress she had managed to squeeze herself into and her long legs on display for all the world to see. 'Fancy a dance?' she said, raising an eyebrow. 'You're looking quite lonely, standing here by yourself...'
He looked her up and down, taking in her slutty appearance. Then he glanced across at Gwen, who was still dancing with Gwaine. Their eyes met for a brief second, and she bit her lip, grinding her body against Gwaine's before looking away again. Arthur's mouth curved up into a wicked smile.
Two could play at this game, he thought to himself as he pulled Vivian onto the dancefloor with him.
'Arthur certainly looks like he's enjoying himself,' Gwaine commented a minute later, looking at something over Gwen's shoulder. They rotated, and Gwen felt her eyes widen when she saw Arthur and Vivian dancing just as intimately as she and Gwaine were.
'Indeed,' muttered Gwen, narrowing her eyes at the scene. Then, hers and Arthur's eyes met. Gwen could practically feel her blood boil, and she could see the same emotion in his eyes: they were absolutely furious with each other for what they were doing and had done. The two didn't break eye contact as both made their dances with their respective partners even more daring. Eventually, it got to the point where they might as well have been tearing off their partners' clothes, it was so passionate.
'Someone's in an interesting mood,' murmured Gwaine into her ear, making her jump. She had almost forgotten that he was still there. The song finished, and he took her by the hand, leading her back towards the bar. 'You look like you could do with another drink.' Two more shot glasses of clear liquid appeared, and Gwen downed hers in one; Gwaine watched, impressed, and then followed suit. She glanced over and saw Arthur still watching.
'Come on,' she said suddenly, pulling Gwaine to his feet again, 'let's dance again.'
He laughed and happily obliged.
The four of them danced for at least two hours, nearly entirely non-stop, until neither Gwen nor Arthur could take it any longer. 'I think I need some air,' Gwen finally said, pulling away from Gwaine. 'I'll be back in a minute.'
'Do you want me to come with you?'
'I'll be fine,' she assured him, and then looked for an exit other than having to go through the main part of the party. She spotted a small fire exit in the corner and escaped through it the darkness of outside, stepping into the woods, which were right next to the exit she had just used.
She did nothing but lean back against a tree and closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her disappear out of the fire exit. 'I'll be back in a minute,' he said shortly to Vivian, but she wasn't listening: she was too busy reapplying her make-up with a small compact mirror. He also ducked out of the fire exit and went into the trees.
Searching.
'Guinevere.' She opened her eyes; he was standing before her. She'd known he would follow her in.
'I hate you,' she whispered. 'How dare you make me feel this way?'
'Oh, so now it's my fault?'
'Of course it's your fault! You're the one that kissed me first; you're the one that brainwashed me into sleeping with you!'
'Brainwashed? I brainwashed you into sleeping with me? Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?'
'I don't care how I sound to you, Arthur Pendragon. I hate you so much right now! I'm so angry, I could hit you – I hate what you've made me into -'
'The feeling's mutual,' he snarled. 'Honestly, I just -'
'I swear, if you say one more word -'
He couldn't take it any longer.
He kissed her with more passion than he ever had before, seizing her face with both hands. She gasped at his touch, and their tongues slid into each other's mouths. With mere moments she had jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist (a difficult feat given the tightness of her dress, which led to it riding up her thighs until it was more like a top than a dress), allowing him to carry her further into the woods. He threw her down onto the dirty ground, landing on top of her; luckily, the shelter of the trees had protected the floor from the recent rain. 'I – hate – you -' she gasped out between kisses, fumbling with his belt.
'I don't care,' he growled. 'Need you... now.' He could taste the alcohol on her breath, and she on his, but neither cared. This wasn't gentle at all.
His kisses were hard against her mouth; they almost felt bruised.
They kept their top halves covered due to both the cold and the lack of time they knew they had, but tore each others' underwear – and in Arthur's case, trousers – off with such enthusiasm that it was a wonder nothing got ripped.
Her nails dug into his back as she cried out, leaving marks in the skin.
Finally, when they were finished, they made themselves decent once more and lay side by side on the bracken, catching their breaths. 'I hate you,' Gwen muttered once more, fixing her hair. She paused. 'That really was the last time, you know. I can't – I just can't carry on.'
'So... that was our goodbye sex?'
She hesitated, and then smiled. 'That was our goodbye sex. I think... I really do think it's time to put this... mistake... behind us.'
A mistake. The words echoed around his head before he finally nodded. 'All right,' he said eventually. 'You go back inside, then, and I'll just... wait here for a few minutes. Have a good night.'
She squeezed his hand. 'You too. I'm glad we ended on good terms. I'll see you soon.' And with that, she stood up, straightened her dress, smoothed down her hair, and disappeared back to the marquee.
Once again, she had left him.
He lay on the floor for a while after, not caring that he was starting to shiver, until a voice calling out his name made him jump to his feet. A moment later, Merlin appeared through the trees.
'Arthur!' he said again, looking relieved. 'You've been gone ages, I was beginning to think something had happened...' then he looked Arthur up and down properly, squinting in the darkness. 'What have you been doing?'
'None of your business,' said Arthur numbly. Gwen didn't want to be with him anymore. He felt hollow and... lonely.
'But -'
'Piss off, Merlin. For once in your life, will you just do what you're told and leave me alone?' he barked. There was a shocked silence for a moment and then Merlin took a step back.
'Fine,' he said quietly. 'I'll be inside if you need me.' He turned on his heel and strode off in the same direction that Gwen had gone.
Once he was out of sight, Arthur sank down onto his knees. He knew Gwen was right – it wasn't working. But still, even though he knew it was wrong, he didn't want it to stop. He enjoyed their time alone together. He loved how she had looked when he had woken up to find her asleep, her skin practically glowing. He loved the sound of her laugh when she was with Morgana, he loved the twinkle in her eye when she was teasing someone (usually him), he loved her confidence when they played poker, he loved how her hair shone in the sun, how she presented herself, how she dressed herself, how she held herself...
'Shit,' he whispered what he'd done. 'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.'
He'd done the one thing that he'd promised himself would never happen.
He'd fallen in love with Guinevere Leodgrace.
Breakfast the next morning was practically silent.
Everyone had the day off, which was lucky, as nobody had even attempted to get out of bed before eleven. Some hadn't even made it back to their own rooms – after the theme park had closed its gates at three in the morning, Gwaine, Leon, Percival, Steve (one of the cameramen) and Gwen had all ended up staying in Morgana's room, making themselves comfortable on the floor – except Gwaine, who had somehow managed to get the entire bed to himself.
Eventually, they had dragged themselves down to the restaurant at half eleven to take full advantage of the all-you-can-eat English breakfast buffet that had been laid out especially for them: they each stacked a plate with greasy bacon, sausages, eggs and beans and poured themselves the strongest black coffees imaginable. No one spoke as they ate – Gwaine and Morgana had both put on sunglasses to help with the pain, and like the rest of them they were slumped so far down in their seats they were practically horizontal.
Merlin, the lucky sod, was the only one who wasn't hungover. He sat between Gwen and Leon, beaming round at all of them as he took in their pale, sickly appearances. 'I keep telling you,' he said in a sing-song voice, 'alcohol is a poison. I don't know why you insist on poisoning yourself nearly every time we go out...'
Gwen felt like throwing up, preferably all over Merlin. The smug man didn't drink – or eat meat, for that matter. He said he didn't agree with slaughtering innocent animals just to feed someone's appetite.
'Merlin, my friend,' groaned Gwaine, closing his eyes and slumping back in his seat, 'you're right. I'm never drinking again, for as long as I live.'
Merlin rolled his eyes and took a sip of his orange juice. 'You say that every time you have a hangover this bad, Gwaine. How much did you drink last night? I've never seen you in such a bad state before.'
Gwaine jerked his thumb in Gwen's direction. 'Ask this one. I'm telling you, she's a bad influence on me.'
Gwen would have smiled at this, but she was too focused on not throwing up.
'Morning.'
They all looked up to see Arthur standing by their table, dressed in tracksuit bottoms, a t-shirt and trainers.
Morgana narrowed her eyes at him. 'Why don't you look as if you're about to die, too?'
Arthur smirked. 'Because I had the sense not to go completely out of my mind last night, because I knew what today would be like if I did. Besides, the tiny bit of a hangover I had has gone – I've been in the gym all morning.'
They all stared at him.
'You're not human,' whispered Leon hoarsely, taking a large sip of his coffee.
'You mean I'm not stupid. I'm off to the castle – father wanted me for a meeting at twelve. Have fun at your hangovers.' He grinned at them and then (or so it seemed to them) flew out of the restaurant and into the lobby.
Gwen stared after him, a strange feeling of regret settling in her stomach.
For the next month and a bit, Arthur tried really hard.
He really did – he was trying to be nice. Since that night at the theme park, he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. He held doors open for people; he tidied up his own mess instead of leaving it all for Merlin to sort out. He became more involved with the making of the film, something that pleased Uther and Aggravaine greatly – he was set to take over the company, after all.
And it was all to impress Guinevere.
He had stopped trying to deny his love for her long ago – it was pointless to deny it, he had soon realised. All he could do now was try and make her feel the same way. He kept a safe distance, of course, making sure no one else knew how he felt. Unfortunately, he was running out of time.
The twentieth of December was the last day of filming in France – the next day, everyone was getting the train back to England for Christmas before filming resumed, this time in Wales. For some reason, Arthur had a feeling that if Guinevere didn't love him by the time they returned to England, she never would.
But for once, luck was on his side. The end of filming in France marked the halfway point in filming the entire film, meaning the legendary mid-point party was approaching, which would take place on the night of the last shoot. The moment Aggravaine had called "cut" for the last time, the crew had gone into fast-forward to get packed away as quickly as possible to give them as much time as they could get to prepare for the party. The cars brought them back to the hotel in record time, and Gwen and Morgana rushed up to Gwen's room to get changed. They had four hours before the cars would pick them up – just enough time.
'Put this on,' Gwen commanded, handing a blindfold over to Morgana. Her palms were slightly sweaty – this was the night she would give Morgana her surprise Christmas present – a dress she had made especially for the actress for tonight's party. The dress code was very strict – formal, with all dresses touching the floor. To Gwen, it sounded more like a ball than a party – Uther had even managed to book the castle's Great Hall as the venue.
'Gwen?' said Morgana, bemused as she put the blindfold on. 'What are you doing?'
Gwen took the dress out of the bag with shaking hands and brushed the material over Morgana's hands. 'This is your Christmas present from me,' she said.
Morgana gasped. 'This isn't – this isn't a dress, is it?'
'It is.'
Morgana gasped. 'Guinevere Leodgrace, you are the best friend I could have ever wished for, and I love you.'
Even though she knew she couldn't see it, Gwen smiled. 'No problem. Now, take your jeans and t-shirt off so I can put it on you.'
Morgana obeyed, allowing her friend to sort the dress out around her. She felt a zip being slid up her side, and the ruffling of a skirt brushing against the floor. Finally, after five or ten minutes of silence, Gwen said, 'All right, you can take the blindfold off.'
She did as she was told.
Gwen saw Morgana's eyes fill with tears as she stared at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. The dress was a shimmering gold, swirling tightly around her chest and then spilling out towards the bottom onto the floor. The hem of the dress was lifted up and attached to the golden glittering bangle on her wrist, and the thick straps at the top were crystallised with thousands of tiny sequins. 'I love it,' Morgana whispered, turning slightly so she could see the back. 'Thank you so much...'
Gwen smiled. 'You're welcome. You wait until you see your dress for the premiere!'
Morgana sniffed, and dried her eyes. 'You're going to have a challenge, making a dress more beautiful than this. What about you? What are you wearing?'
Gwen grinned and got another dress out of the wardrobe. 'Here's one I made earlier.'
They arrived at the castle just in time, shivering as they stepped out into the cold. Luckily, the cars had been given special permission to drive up to the courtyard, meaning they had hardly any distance to walk. Both women gasped when they saw what had been done with the Great Hall: small hexagonal tables had been set up around the edge of a giant dancefloor, which was lit with candles. An orchestra was set up in the far corner, tuning their instruments as the room began to fill.
'Blimey.'
Arthur looked over at Merlin, who was staring at something with an open mouth. Arthur followed his gaze, and felt his own mouth open, too.
Guinevere and Morgana were stood on the other side of the room, talking to each other, and Arthur could honestly say he had never seen two more beautiful women in his life. Morgana was wearing something golden which would no doubt make Leon a very happy man tonight, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Guinevere.
She had let her hair stay curly tonight, cascading down her back and shining in the candlelight. The dress she wore... it was exquisite. The material was a deep, rich red – Pendragon red, even. It flowed down to the ground, each sequin catching the light as she moved, while the top half clung to her figure, enhancing her cleavage subtly enough to still be deemed decent.
The orchestra started to play a waltz, and he watched, dazed, as she accepted Gwaine's hand and began to dance with the charmer. That old feeling of jealousy began to creep up on him again. Tonight.
He would have to tell her tonight.
'Gwen!' someone whispered her name and she looked into the dark corner of the room. The party had been going for a good hour and a half now, and she had spent most of it with Gwaine – as friends, of course. He was quickly becoming one of her favourite people to be around, as he told fantastic stories and was an excellent dancer. She squinted slightly and saw it was Morgana who had called her.
'Gwen, I just heard Leon's going to ask me to dance,' Morgana hissed once her friend had come closer. 'What do I do?'
Gwen laughed. 'You dance, of course. Tonight's the night – go for it.' She winked, and then saw Leon approaching, looking more nervous than he had ever looked before. 'I'll leave you to it. Have fun...'
She went back to join where she had been standing with Gwaine, Percival and Merlin.
An hour later, and she was ready to leave. It had been a long day, and she still had to pack for the train tomorrow morning. She had said her goodbyes to Morgana, just before her second dance with Leon, and to the boys, but now it was time for sleep. She would call for a taxi to take her back to the hotel – as she stepped back into the courtyard, she realised just how cold it was. Even as she thought this, she realised it was beginning to snow. Unfortunately, there was no one else out here to share her childhood joy with.
She couldn't believe they'd already been filming for six months – it had flown by unbelievably quickly. But now it was time to return to England, and, for a precious few days, her family. And Arthur – Arthur, who had been almost pleasant to be around these last few weeks. Speaking of which...
'Guinevere!'
She turned round to see Arthur hurrying towards her, looking extremely handsome in his suit with its open white collar. 'You're not leaving already, are you?' he asked slightly breathlessly.
'Er... yes. I'm tired, and I've got an early train tomorrow...'
'Don't go,' he said quickly.
She stared him. 'Pardon?'
'Don't go,' he repeated with more certainty. 'You see, over the past few weeks, since we stopped... you know... I've begun to see you in a different light. You're funny, and you're clever, and you're kind – not that I didn't think these things about you before – I just mean -'
'Arthur, have you been drinking?' she asked, slightly amused.
'No!' he paused. 'Oh, this really isn't how I planned this.'
'Planned what?'
'I – I don't know -'
'Arthur, I've really got to go now, I'm freezing. If you want to talk, then we'll catch up after Christmas, okay?' she touched his arm gently and then began to walk away.
'No, I – Guinevere Leodgrace, I'm in love with you!'
She stopped in her tracks. Around her, the snow was beginning to fall more thickly, settling on the ground. Slowly, she turned back round to face him. 'What did you just say?' she whispered.
'I said – I said I'm in love with you,' he said again. 'I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way, but I've felt like this for too long now, and I don't think either of us can escape from the fact that -' he stopped talking and swallowed. Suddenly, she was a lot closer. 'The fact that -' he tried again, but once more fell silent.
She might have said something, but he didn't care, because suddenly her lips were on his for the briefest of moments and then she had pulled away, but then their lips met again, and then for a third time, and her fingers had become laced through his –
'Does that mean – does that mean you feel the same way?' he whispered.
She laughed quietly. 'I think it's safe to say I've felt that way for longer for longer than I'd care to admit.'
'Really?' he raised an eyebrow. 'And how long would that be, exactly?'
'How long have you got?'
He grinned and kissed her again. 'We've got all night.'
Yep, you're not hallucinating. This is the quickest – and by far the longest – update I've ever done.
So here's the thing. When I began this story, I was aiming for about fifty reviews – sixty, if I was lucky. But after just six chapters, I have ninety two reviews – and we're only halfway there. Could we get to one hundred reviews with this chapter? Go on, let's do it! The more reviews I get, the quicker I update, as you can see...
Words cannot express how much I love you guys. Seriously, you're the best. See you soon (maybe ;)) and please review!
xxxxx
