"This is your what? Third dinner in a week?" Merlin asked as he leaned casually against the bed post, arms crossed.
"Yes and so?" Arthur brushed down his shirt and picked up his sword.
"It sounds like things are going well. Gwen was in quite a good mood yesterday, humming as she washed the dishes."
Arthur couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Things were going well with him and Gwen. Their first dinner together was slightly awkward but by the time Gwen brought out the custard tart she had made for dessert, it was almost like old times. Conversation flowed easily, casual touches between them seemed natural and when Arthur stepped out of her house that evening, he was drunk with happiness.
"Don't forget that the ceremonial cloak needs to be ready tomorrow to send Lord Cheswick off."
"Yes, yes. Enjoy your dinner with Gwen. Tell her I said hi."
"You just saw her this afternoon." Arthur shook his head as he left his room. He fully intended to enjoy his dinner with Gwen, with or without Merlin's permission.
Dinner was a simple stew, not that Arthur minded.
"I've been meaning to ask you this." A slight blush coloured Gwen's cheeks, piquing his curiosity. "When … how did we start?"
"Start what?" He mumbled with a mouthful of stew which he swallowed hurriedly when Gwen frowned. "Oh … start. Huh. Well, I was staying at your place and apparently being a bit of an ass."
The frown deepened. "Why were you staying at my place?"
"It's a long story. I was hiding."
Gwen raised her eyebrows.
"And Merlin offered your place and as I said, I was a bit of an ass and you took me to task about it, and I guess that's how it started. You're the first person, aside from Morgana and Merlin, to see me as a person and not just the King of Camelot."
"I told you off and we fell in love?" Arthur could see the smile tugging at her lips.
"Well, it's probably more that you told me off and I fell in love with you. You didn't seem to fall as quickly." He grinned. "We did have a very lovely first kiss."
The pink returned to her cheeks and she broke eye contact. "I don't think kissing was ever a problem."
"No."
For a moment, they gazed at each other until Gwen looked away. "Eat your stew before it gets cold," she chided.
Arthur knew the warmth that burned in his chest wasn't a result of the stew.
Some time later, it was with great reluctance that Arthur said goodbye.
"I was thinking that if you still needed someone to look over the castle's budget for you, maybe I could help." Gwen stood at her door as Arthur slipped his cloak on.
"Will you?"
"If it is not overstepping my boundaries."
"Never," Arthur murmured. And not for the first time, Arthur felt a surge of fondness for the tiny woman standing in front of him, staring at him with earnest, brown eyes. He cupped her face and, like always, she swayed towards him. Like Gwen said kissing was was never a problem for them. Her lips parted and he explored the familiar warmth of her mouth. A moan escaped and Gwen shifted closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms more tightly around her waist.
When their kiss broke, Arthur looked down at Gwen, his heart feeling like it was bursting.
"I love you."
The slight smile on her face faded and she stepped out from the circle of his arms. "Arthur -"
"No," Arthur placed a finger on her lips. "It's okay if you can't say it yet."
"I'm sorry. I really like spending time with you and -"
"It's fine Gwen. It's fine." Arthur whispered even as his heart sank slightly. He didn't expect her to say it but it still hurt when she didnt.
Arthur sat on the steps of the courtyard and stared up at the sky. Guinevere's earlier uncertainty had made him wonder if she was still in love with Merlin, if she was hoping still that she had a chance with Merlin. He couldn't help the bitterness that wrapped around his heart - he was doomed to always be second in her heart. There was no doubt, even now, that she cared for him nor was there much doubt that she was attracted, physically at least, to him. Perhaps, he told himself, that could be enough. It was enough before when it was Lancelot.
Except this time Merlin was alive and well and living in Camelot. And Arthur knew first hand how hard it was to be so close to someone you loved but didn't share the same feelings. He sighed, rubbed his face and stood up. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.
The sun was barely in the sky when Lord Cheswick and his huge entourage departed Camelot. After the gesture of giving the token to Lady Clara, Lord Cheswick was true to his word and negotiations went quite smoothly. It was quite the relief to have one less thing to worry about. He had had Merlin pass Guinevere the necessary documents so she could look through the budget. Having been part of the castle staff for so long, he was sure she would have a better idea how the castle could be more frugal. Or at least she would know who to talk to.
His duties took up much of his day and aside from a few glimpses along the corridors of the castle, he saw nothing of Guinevere. They hadn't exactly quarrelled but he suspected last night was playing on both their minds and there seemed to be a mutual decision to keep a distance. So it was with a little surprise that he opened the door to her that evening after dinner.
"Guinevere! I wasn't expecting you."
"Is this a bad time?"
"It's never a bad time for you," he smiled, thinking that perhaps his day would end on a pleasant note. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"
"I was looking through the castle budget and I thought that perhaps I could discuss some things with you. After all, I can't go to the council with my thoughts."
Arthur nodded and stepped back so she could enter his room.
For the first time, talking about the budget didn't frustrate or annoy him. Guinevere, as expected, was knowledgeable, sensible and insightful. By the end of the evening, he had a better idea of how to keep Camelot functioning on a stricter budget.
"I've cleaned the stables and collected your laundry," Merlin burst into the room, buried in a pile of clothes which he dumped unceremoniously onto the dinning table. "I swear that new knight of yours, Sir Hector or something is - oh Gwen! Didn't realise you were here."
Arthur saw the smile that grew on her face and the fondness in her eyes before turning his attention to Merlin.
"Put the clothes away then you can go." The words came out harsher than he meant and he noticed Gwen frown. "What about Sir Hector?"
Merlin, head in Arthur's closet, his voice muffled, replied, "I don't trust him. He's up to no good. What do you know of his background anyway?"
"I've heard the servants speak of him. He's been very elusive about his background, other than the fact that he had been wandering around for a long time since his parents were murdered by Morgana's forces several years ago." Gwen moved forward and began to help Merlin with the clothes.
Jealousy reared his ugly head as Arthur watched how comfortably they worked together. "We take in a lot of such knights like him. Many have lost their families in the wars around us. Hopefully, they find a family with the other knights."
Merlin finally got out of the closet. "I know and most of them are very grateful for the opportunity. But Sir Hector, he says the right things but I don't think he means it. Elyan and Percival have been keeping an eye on him. They caught him nosing around the armoury yesterday."
"Perhaps he has a keen interest in weapons. You should show the same interest."
"Weapons aren't terribly interesting if all you get to do is polish them. But seriously, watch out for him. Anyway, I'm going now. I know when I'm intruding. Have a good night." Merlin said suggestively as he ducked out of the room before Arthur had enough time to chuck a pillow at him.
"I should go too." Arthur turned to Gwen and he wondered if she was hoping to catch up with Merlin.
"Can I - Are you still in love with Merlin?"
He supposed that if she was no longer in love with Merlin, a denial would be easy to express so her silence only confirmed his worst fears. It was one thing to come second to someone dead. It was another to come second to someone who was still alive and around.
"I -"
"You're right. It's late. You should go." He cut her off, not wanting to hear the words. Vaguely, he remembered how the next step in the book was to recite poetry he wrote to her. Even if he could write half-decent poetry, he doubted words were going to win her heart.
"Arthur." Instead of leaving, she grabbed his hands and he felt the usual shiver of excitement run through him. "I like Merlin and I admit for a while, after I woke from unconsciousness, I believed I was in love with him. He was nice, kind and gentle - the kind of person I've always hoped to be with."
Kind, nice, gentle. Three words no one would use to describe him Arthur thought. How did they even come close to marrying when he was clearly not the man she dreamt of?
"But," She moved even closer to him, one hand cupping his face, "I've realised he doesn't make me feel the way you do."
The only thing to do was obviously to kiss her.
And he did, with all his heart.
"I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be laughing." Arthur tried his best to glare at Gwen who was sitting on a rock near the stream, legs swinging and eyes full of amusement.
"You just compared me to beer." Her words came out between giggles, and any mock offense Arthur took at her laughing at his poetry was easily outweighed by the satisfaction of making Guinevere laugh.
"It was the only word that rhymed with Guinevere!" Poetry was impossible. When she opened her mouth, he quickly continued, "at least, it was the only one I could think of."
"You're hopeless. And why the sudden need to write me poetry? Not that I'm not flattered. I just thought you'd rather kill me a chicken than serenade me with poetry."
"I," he said as he settled down next to her, "was trying to be romantic. I guess that wasn't terribly successful." Her laugh was light and full of affection and he figured he was willing to write the worst poetry if it amused her so.
"I have a tip for you Mr Romantic." Gwen leaned so she was pressed against his side and whispered into his ear. "Beer is very rarely romantic."
Her breath tickled the side of his face and he felt himself tense. They never did much more than kiss and despite him wanting more, he was reluctant to push her. Still, he draped one arm across her shoulders and pulled her to him. He loved how naturally she fit into his side. Things seemed to be progressing well. Still, he never said those three words to her again and she still hadn't said them to him.
"So if not poetry, what should I do to win your heart?"
"Picnics are nice." She turned her face towards the sun. "This is nice. Being out of the castle, away from all the responsibilities."
Her eyes closed and she leaned into him. It was moments like this that he was glad she didn't remember some of the things from the past.
"Tell me, what happened to our first wedding? I assume that it was Morgana's attack that interrupted it?" Her hand was in his and her thumb stroked him lazily.
The sun was shining. Things in Camelot were calm and people seemed happy. Why did such a perfect day have to be marred with this?
When he failed to answer, she sat up straight, worry clouding her eyes. "It was Morgana's attack right? Because why else would we call it off?"
He could spin a lie and then swear everyone to secrecy but this was Guinevere and he'd lost her trust before. He wasn't about to lie to her. "I called it off."
And the whole awful story came pouring out of his mouth as she stared at him - Lancelot's return from the dead, her and Lancelot caught in a passionate kiss. Even as he related the story, as dispassionately as possible, hurt, anger and guilt churned in his stomach. It was worse when Guinevere's eyes reflected the growing horror she was feeling.
"You caught me kissing someone else the night before our wedding? What kind of person was I?" Her hand was no longer in his and the distance between them suddenly seemed unbreachable.
"A normal person. Lancelot was your great love. He was just never around. Then you thought he was dead and you had sent him to his death. I guess the emotions of seeing him alive again and the love you had for him was overwhelming." Arthur paused. He'd been through these thoughts over and over again but giving them voice tore his heart to bits. Hearing himself acknowledge that Lancelot was the love of Guinevere's life, seeing the way she looked at him now - it all coalesced into a huge mess of emotions in him. He cleared his throat and looked blankly at the rushing stream. "You told me you couldn't help yourself. I know what it is like to be in the grip of emotions. You didn't mean to." After all the months of replaying that scene, it was the only explanation that made sense to Arthur.
She said nothing, staring instead at her tightly clasped hands.
He took a breath. "And I selfishly banished you after that." The admittance was just as painful and the guilt he had kept at bay came back to him.
For a while, Guinevere just stared at him. Confusion in her eyes, then anger and hurt. Arthur didn't expect anything less. "Where would I go? My whole life is here!"
He had no answer for that aside from telling her he was sorry. The apology was useless, and Arthur knew it but what else was there to say. In awkward silence, they packed up and returned to the castle. There was none of their usual farewell kiss, no warm looks or gentle words as they parted ways. As he watched her walk away towards her home, he wondered if all the progress they made were for naught, if his mistakes were too large to ever get past.
