Chapter 8
He was staring. He knew he was, but he had no intention of stopping.
He didn't bother to hide his budding obsession.
He was subjected to strict bed rest, the wound to his side so serious it was difficult to sit upright. Not that he would know it, he was in complete didn't know how it had come to this; at first he had just been grateful for her help.
But his mind had a way of complicating things in ways he still couldn't comprehend. He didn't know if she volunteered, or if she had been assigned to care for him over the past few days. She was with him at every point of time, only a call away.
His eyes couldn't get enough. She had shown him such kindness, despite the fact that she knew him for little less than a week. He had seen it before when she repaired his armor, and now he saw it when she nursed him around the clock. She possessed genuine concern for him as a person, not really a prince. She simply wanted to help.
His gaze followed her hand as another warm towel pressed against his bare chest, bandage wound around his torso. Their bodies illuminated by the dim flickering of candles around them.
And though he didn't intend on disguising his attention for her, she didn't seem to notice.
When she realized that he had been looking at her, she only felt insecure.
"Is there anything wrong?"
If he knew anything, there was very little wrong with that moment.
"The water, it's too hot?" she wondered.
A smile crept across his face. Never before had he witnessed a person that exhibited so much effort for another, and it was adorable.
"Your wound, has it become too painful?"
He didn't answer, too captivated by her appearance. Her beauty went past her sweet face, it went into her nurturing personality, her kind heart.
Her eyes filled with fear, "I'll go fetch some herbs to help," Her body began to pull away from his, but before she could get too far, his hand stretched out to catch her wrist. He firmly, but gently, placed the hand with towel over his chest again.
"I'm fine," he assured, "nothing is wrong,"
She let out a breath of relief. Princes were demanding beings, she couldn't understand begin what was going on in his head.
The sudden realization of the intimate content dawned, and she instinctively removed her hand. He released her wrist as she felt her moving away.
It was always like this, they would get a bit close, and she would be the first one to stop.
Her back was turned to him now, she set the small bucket of water on the ground. Her hands went to prepare something on the wooden table on the other side of the small house."I overheard some things when I was at the well," the clinging of plates between her fingers, "Your knights, the ones that survived, they are all doing well,"
He leaned his head on the wall behind him, closing his eyes. The resulting casualties from the beast's attack weren't limited to villagers, he had lost a good number of his loyal men.
"It seems they have been making preparations to ride out, back to Camelot,"
His eyelids snapped open, looking at her form. It was quiet, the entire community around them filled with silence. A somber mood hung over the village, the losses too great to ignore.
"Rumors of your injury have reached past the borders,"
The news didn't surprise him, he had been expecting such.
"There are people looking for you," She turned around, carrying a wooden bowl filled with an unidentifiable paste. "It's not safe for your majesty to be staying in a place like this, in a state like this," She sat herself back down on a short stool next to the bed.
"The gash to your side hasn't healed yet, but I will try to alleviate the pain so you will be able to travel back,"
Gwen wasn't one to indulge her every desire; but she was beginning to run out of ways to deny the way she was feeling around the young Pendragon. There was definite truth in the words she had heard about him before their first encounter; he was indeed a womanizing prat. But gossip had failed to mention his noble qualities.
He had risked his own life to protect the village, running and luring the monster alone into a wood he was unfamiliar with. He wanted to defend the lives of his people and his knights. No matter what reputation he had earned in the past, she couldn't help but admire his bravery and sacrifice.
She didn't want him to leave.
She took out a spoon and began to mush the mixture in the bowl, her eyes concentrating on blending. She scooped a reasonably sized helping, and raised it carefully to his looked at her, looking as if he was going to say something in purely Arthur fashion, he took a deep breath, and changed pace.
"I hope that's not for me," his chin inclined upwards, like a stubborn child that didn't want to finish his dinner.
She glanced up at him, her eyes jumping from the wooden utensil, and back to his face.
"It's your evening meal," she stated plainly and innocently.
"It looks the same as my morning meal," he paused, playfully pensive, "actually it looks the same as my midday meal too," he joked again.
"That's because it is," she felt the edges of her lips tug upwards, "It's best you stick to consistent foods while you recover,"
Seeing her heightened mood, he relaxed. For some reason, he always felt uneasy when she did. "I think I'll take my chances without it,"
She laughed cheerfully, somehow he knew how to lift her spirits in any situation.
"Well if you can pick what you want to eat, then I'm sure you could prepare your own food, feed yourself, and care for yourself"She set the bowl back down on her lap, the spoon joining it. She picked it up to place it in his hands, when he stopped her.
"I'm only kidding," blue orbs met brown ones, "I don't think I would have survived if it weren't for you,"
Her heart skipped a beat, even though she wished it hadn't. She was well aware that developing any affections for this man would only end in upheaval.
"I've grown so accustomed to your company, I'm not sure how I would be able to continue on without it,"
"I'm sure you'll manage," concentrating on the spoon again, she raised another helping up.
"What if I don't have to?"
"Of course you do," she held it in place, waiting for him to open his mouth to take a bite.
"But what if I don't?"
She tilted her head, puzzled by his words. Slowly, the spoon found itself submerged in mush again.
"But you do," she reaffirmed.
"Come with me"
It spilled out on its own. He wasn't sure how to say it, so he just let it eyes rounded, her mouth parting slightly. "What?" her whisper barely audible.
This time more determined, his voice stronger, "Come back with me," The hold his eyes had on hers refused to let go.
His request was tantalizing, calling her in, far too tempting to resist.
Time stopped at the moment, as the two youths stared the one another. They wondered how to react, they waited for a response. But like she had done every time before, Gwen pulled away. She stood up abruptly, pushing the bowl into his arms.
"Would you like some water?" She quickly rushed up, and hastily threw her cloak over her shoulders, bringing the hood over her curls.
"Guinevere—"
"It's a little late, but I think I could head over to another hut and ask for some," She made her way towards the exit, her hands nervously clasped together tightly.
"Guinevere,"
"I'll only be gone for a bit—"
"Guinevere," this time with more authority, his voice deeper. He rose an eyebrow as she turned around, biting her lower lip hestitantly.
"Sire," she breathed breathlessly. She didn't look him in the eye, almost trying to conceal herself.
"Come here," he gestured back to the chair beside him.
She obeyed without a word, her head down the entire time.
He took a deep breath, slouching back further, his body slightly sliding down the bed. As soon as she had been seated, he began again, "I didn't mean to be so," he searched for a way to convey his cluttered thoughts, "blunt."
She nodded, he continued, "I was just thinking, because of your situation, maybe it would be in your best interest if you returned with me to Camelot." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either. Sure, without a father to support her, she was penniless; but his main reasons for wanting her to come back with him were completely selfish.
He craved her presence, he didn't even like to think of parting with it.
"No," she said softly.
He looked at her, almost thinking that he might of heard her wrong.
"No, I can't," she cleared her throat, "I wouldn't be able to follow you to the city, and leave everything behind,"
He narrowed his eyes, accidently unleashing the worst response possible, "Leave what?" He regretted it the moment he said it. He momentarily forgot how fresh the pain of being orphaned and abandoned was for her.
The look on her face literally split his heart in two.
"I didn't mean it like that, I was just—"
"No, you're perfectly right," she felt the tears stinging her eyes. She rose to her feet again, but this time he knew no matter how many times he called her name, she wouldn't turn around. "I'll return in the morning to redress your bandage," her voice cracked in between.
Before he could think of anything to say, the door slammed shut with a soft thud.
A hand ran through his blond hair in frustration.
That could have gone better, much better.
End Chapter 9
A/N: Really just a look into Arthur and Gwen and how they've grown while she's been taking care of him. They've definitely developed a more comfortable dynamic, but as the question comes up of what to do when it's time for Arthur to leave is causing friction. I debated whether or not I should post this, as it doesn't really meet the substance standard for a chapter. But seeing as how long it's been since I've posted for this story, I updated. I hope you liked it, review if you want more! Thanks for reading.
