AN: Hey, here's the next chapter. I know a lot of you are getting sick of the slow burn, but there's a lot of progression in this chapter! (i think)Yay! I also know a lot of you want longer chapters, and it's just really hard for me to make them longer, mostly because I have so much school work and it just isn't a good use of time. If that makes any sense. 2,000 words per chapter will probably be the average. I'm sorry, but that's real life for you. I still really appreciate your feedback! And… I think I'll throw a party and make an extra-long chapter once I get to 100 reviews just to show my appreciation for your reviews and input. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :D
Chapter 6: The Kiss.
They'd carried on pretending, it gotten progressively easier the more they did it. The more they pretended to perform the act whilst secretly getting to know one another, learn more about how the other thought. Guinevere's guilt grew as their secret did. Arthur's lack of guilt came as a surprise to him. He wanted to feel bad about lying to Caroline, but he didn't. Caroline was becoming increasingly distant, not talking to him, obsessed with her flowers. Arthur didn't know why she loved her flowers so much, why she paid them more attention than she did him. Did she still love him? In all honesty, Arthur wasn't sure if he cared anymore. He wasn't even sure why he and Guinevere were still pretending. He wasn't sure if he still wanted an heir. The more he and Guinevere spoke, the more he'd began to question Camelot's traditions and customs, the more he began to find flaws in his late father. He felt like he was either losing himself, or finding himself. He wasn't sure which of the two he preferred.
"I saw Caroline crying today." Guinevere says, sitting on the king's bed, her veil next to her. Arthur is staring at himself in the mirror. He found himself staring at his reflection more often recently. It was almost involuntary.
"Really?" Arthur tries to find the perfect tone. He has to sound concerned, but not too concerned.
"Yes. She didn't see me. But I saw her. Sobbing. Uncontrollably." Guinevere pauses, staring at her commander. "I don't think she's coping well."
"She's fine." Arthur lies. "I'm sure she is."
"With all due respect, sire. You didn't see her."
"She cut your hair." Arthur interrupts Guinevere, making his way closer to her.
"I wanted her to."
"That's not what you said yesterday. You said she did it against your will. That's what you said." Arthur sits next to his surrogate.
"I know what I said, and what I said is the truth... but sire-"
"Aren't we beyond that?"
"Excuse me? " Guinevere is bewildered.
"Titles. Sire. There's no need. Not when it's just us." Arthur smiles softly at her. Guinevere smiles back. She shouldn't be smiling back.
"What should I call you then?"
Arthur laughs.
"Arthur. My name is Arthur, your name is Guinevere, and that is how we shall address each other as of now." Guinevere shakes her head. This wasn't done.
"Sire, as much as I appreciate your efforts to make me feel comfortable, this isn't appropriate."
"What isn't appropriate? Us pretending to perform the act? Or you calling me by my first name?" Arthur moves a little closer to her, his eyes fixated on hers. "Just call me Arthur."
"Okay, Arthur." Guinevere says. Arthur smiles. "I saw your wife crying today. Do you not care?" Arthur moves away from her.
"Of course I care."
"You have a funny way of showing it."
"How am I meant to show it?" Arthur turns to stare at her.
"I don't know..."
"Of course you don't know, Guinevere. You do not have the faintest idea. You haven't a clue. I married Caroline because I loved her-"
"I wasn't implying that you didn't, Arthur."
"I loved her. I did..." Arthur stands up from the bed, walking slowly back to the mirror.
"But..." Guinevere persists.
"But, things haven't been the same for a while now. I've tried everything. I have. I love her. I do... but. I don't know, Guinevere. She's just... she's just not the girl I fell in love with. She's not funny. She doesn't smile. I can't make her laugh. She's always looking down. My touch doesn't please her anymore. Nothing is the same, and I can barely take it."
Guinevere walks over to Arthur, placing her hand softly on his shoulder. He turns around to face her, their eyes meeting. Locked.
"I have no idea what that must feel like." Guinevere's voice is dry. She's nervous. She doesn't know why.
"I wouldn't wish it upon you." Arthur smiles at her. He leans his head closer. Wanting to kiss her. Guinevere notices. She knows what he wants to do, and yet, she doesn't move. She doesn't stop him.
"I am going to kiss you." Arthur lets out before swallowing hard. "I mean, only if you'll let me."
She nods.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure." Guinevere smiles. Arthur places his hands softly on her neck, her soft curls tickling his fingers. Leaning closer, his lips brush softly against hers. He continues down her face, reaching her neck. Breathing her in. Soaking in her scent. Returning back to her lips, he brushes against them again, her lips part... and they kiss. Their tongues meet, and it's blissful. Wrong. But wonderful. Frowned upon. But nice.
Arthur doesn't know where to put his hands. Where do I put my hands? He raises his left hand, placing it softly on her small waist, not wanting to break her. She seems so fragile. His eyes closed, he deepens the kiss, and Guinevere reciprocates. She's enjoying it. And she hates herself for it. But it's just so amazing.
They stop. Pulling away, their eyes still closed. Their breaths heavy and their minds blurred.
They'd kissed.
How could they have been stupid? How could they have done so something so intimate?
"That was..." Arthur pauses, his hand still resting on Guinevere's soft neck. "... nice."
Guinevere is frozen. She can't speak.
"... but it was a mistake. It can never happen again." Guinevere nods. Still in shock. What had they done?
"You can go."
Guinevere walks out. She can still taste his lips on hers.
The Queen had requested Guinevere's presence. She knew, Guinevere was sure of it. She wasn't sure how'd she'd found out, but she knew that she knew. Why else would she request her presence? They hadn't spoken since she cut her hair, Guinevere had been avoiding Caroline. But now she couldn't. Because she'd requested her presence. She'd been summoned. She was going to be killed. Having romantic relations with your Commander was punishable by death. Guinevere was going to die. It didn't matter that her commander was the king, it was the rules; break the rules, and you die. That's how King Uther ruled, and that's how King Arthur would be persuaded to rule. He'd kill her, even though they were both at fault.
Guinevere swallows hard, waiting in the throne room. Sweat dripping from her fingers. Her pulse racing.
"Ofarthur." Caroline's voice startles Guinevere. Keeping her head down, Guinevere nods.
"I'm glad you came quickly. I have something of importance I wish to discuss with you."
She knew. She definitely knew.
"You have been acting as our surrogate for over a month now, nearly two, and still you show no signs of pregnancy." Caroline walks closer to Guinevere. "It's understandable. But…" Caroline pauses in a dramatic fashion.
"But?" Guinevere questions.
"But, I can't help but wonder if…" She shakes her head. "No. No. It's a stupid idea."
"What? What's a stupid idea?" Guinevere's anxiety grows.
"Well, I've had my doubts for a while now, and I can't help but wonder if my worst fears may be coming true."
"You're being very cryptic, my lady. I'm not quite sure I understand."
Caroline smiles wickedly.
"My husband." She pauses. "I fear he may be… sterile."
She doesn't know. A sigh of relief escape Guinevere's lips.
"Sterile?"
"Yes. You know. Unable to bear children." Caroline smiles softly. "I wouldn't you to take the blame for his incompetence."
"Incompetence?" Was she going to sack her? Was this her way out?
"I'd suggest you try… with the guardian." Caroline finally lets out. She wanted her to sleep with Lancelot. That wasn't allowed.
"Try what?"
"Don't act so innocent, Ofarthur. It isn't unheard of."
"I'm not sure I can do this…"
"I'm afraid you don't have a say in the matter, I've already spoken to Lancelot, and he's agreed to it." Guinevere feels her face burning. "I've arranged a room for you tonight. Near the kitchen. Meet him there shortly after sundown."
Guinevere stops herself from weeping. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. It made her feel sick. She was going to be physically sick.
"I can't. Please don't make me. I can't. Please. Please." She hated begging Guinevere always hated begging. But she had to. She couldn't sleep with Lancelot. She couldn't. She wouldn't. He made her feel sick. He turned her stomach. She didn't want to. She didn't love him. How could she do it with someone she didn't love?
How was she ever planning on doing it with the king?
"Pull yourself together, girl." Girl. Caroline's voice is stern. "You're not the only one suffering here. You're not the victim here. I am." Caroline's warm spit lands on Guinevere's face.
She can no longer stop herself, and she begins crying. Caroline's is unnerved by this. Studying Guinevere's face, which is now wet with tears, she walks out of the throne room, a blank expression on her face.
Dinner.
"Where's Guin-Ofarthur?" He'd let it slip. Had his wife noticed? Was she even listening?
"I let her have the night off." Caroline forces a smile at her husband. "You don't mind, do you?"
She'd noticed.
"No. Of course not."
He'd called her Guinevere. He knew her name, and Caroline had noticed. It made her blood boil. It made her want to rip the rest of Guinevere's hair out with her bare hands. Her loathing grew and her sanity was beginning to diminish.
It would be fine though. That harlot would soon be pregnant, with the guardian's baby, they'd get their heir, she'd be gone, and Caroline would get her husband back, her life back, her happiness back. She just needed to have more patience. Not lose her cool. Ensure that Arthur still loved her. He had to still love her. Ofarthur was just there to ease his needs, his desires, it was her he loved. Not that surrogate. Surrogates are cheap, there's no way he could love her. Him saying her name meant nothing. Of course it did. It had to mean nothing.
Guinevere didn't show up. Lancelot was disappointed, but he'd been expecting it. He wasn't going to do anything to her, not unless she wanted to, not unless she was okay with it. But she didn't even arrive. Lancelot was left waiting for her arrival but to no avail. He'd wanted to talk to her, learn more about her, understand why she was so quiet, but she didn't even give him the chance, she didn't want anything to do with him. Why? Why was she so against him? Was it his face? Was he ugly? He wasn't King Arthur, he knew that, but surely he wasn't that bad.
He didn't see a gargoyle when he looked in the mirror. He saw someone decent. Someone worthy of love and companionship, and yet Guinevere was so reluctant to even look him in the eye. Maybe he shouldn't have called her beautiful. But he couldn't help it. She was beautiful to him.
Sometimes he wished he was Arthur. Most of the time he was glad he wasn't. There was no way he'd be able to detach himself from her. He was drawn to her. It was magnetic. She intrigued him. Physically and mentally.
He knew he shouldn't be having such thoughts. He knew it was wrong. He knew the eyes could probably hear him… but they weren't positive thoughts, they weren't patriotic, though they weren't completely against Camelot's regime either.
Lancelot didn't know what he felt towards the Pendragons. He wasn't sure of much anymore.
Arthur had decided to visit Guinevere. They should talk about what happened. It was the decent thing to do. The right thing to do. Right. Wrong. The line was so blurred now, but he knew he had to see her. Speak to her. He wanted to.
Three knocks on the door.
"Arthur?" Guinevere was expecting Merlin. She was crying, and now Arthur could see. She felt stupid. Arthur was worried.
"You're crying."
"No I'm not." She wipes her tears as she allows him to enter her chambers.
"Yes. You are." Arthur goes to touch her shoulder, but stops himself before his hands reach it.
"Arthur, please."
"Why are you crying? Is it because of what happened before? Because we kissed?" Arthur wants her to say no.
"Yes."
"Oh."
"Arthur, please. I just want to be alone." She was calling him Arthur. He liked it.
"We both know that kiss was a mistake." Arthur says, convincing himself. "I'm sorry I did it."
"It's okay." She wipes her tears. "I kissed you back, and I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me."
Arthur nods awkwardly. He wants to hold her. He doesn't know why. But he does. He wants to embrace her, rock her back and forth until she stops crying. He wants to move the stray curl sprayed across her face. He doesn't know why. But he wants to.
"Did Caroline say why she let you have the night off?"
"No." She lies.
"She was just feeling generous?"
"Possibly."
"See. Told you she wasn't sad. She was probably crying about something silly. Probably about her flowers." Arthur knew that was a lie.
"Probably."
Guinevere's one word replies were beginning to irritate Arthur.
"Are things always going to be like this between us now?"
"Like what?" Guinevere wipes her face, turning to face him.
"Tense."
"No. Things aren't tense between us."
"Yes they are."
"No they aren't."
"Yes. They are, Guinevere." Arthur smiles at her. She smiles back. Almost laughing.
"Maybe a little."
"A little?" Arthur laughs. "A little? You could cut the tension in here with one of my swords." Arthur's somewhat pathetic attempt at a joke makes Guinevere giggle. Arthur likes her laugh. The pair study one another.
"I'm sorry I kissed you, Guinevere."
Arthur walks over to her, and places a soft kiss on her cheek. He lingers, letting his skin brush against hers. Her body is stiff. This annoys him. Locking eyes with her, he smiles before walking backwards, making his way out of the chambers.
He was falling for her.
