"Sire." The midwife's voice is quiet, but it rings through the corridor.

The king stops pacing and spins on his bare feet to look at her, his blue eyes wide.

"The queen is asking for you, my lord," Evelyn says, smiling. Her hair is slightly disheveled, her skin has a light sheen of sweat, and there is blood on her apron, but she appears pleased. Happy.

Without a word, Arthur hurries into the royal chambers.

Four hours earlier, Guinevere had woken with a start. Her stomach was tight and uncomfortable, and it seemed the baby was especially active. "Hush now," she whispered, pressing her hand against the side of her stomach. She turned onto her other side, tucking an extra pillow under her belly in an attempt to get more comfortable. She closed her eyes, and a few minutes later, she felt her baby move again, as though he was rolling his entire body around. My goodness, she had thought.

Then, there was a sudden, warm wetness between her legs.

Oh.

Her eyes flew open and her hand reached out to her husband, her palm finding his solid torso beside her. "Arthur," she said. Pushing his shoulder again, she cried, "Arthur."

"Hmm?" Arthur pried his eyes open, and his wife's startled expression told him exactly what was happening. "It's time?" he asked, scrambling out of bed, becoming tangled in the sheets, and nearly falling to the floor. "Bugger…" he cursed, then found his feet. "I'll send for Evelyn," he said, hastily pulling on a shirt.

"Thank you," she said, curling around her stomach.

Arthur started toward the door, hesitated, and rushed back. "Everything is going to be fine, Love. I promise," he whispered more confidently than he actually felt, kissed her forehead, cheek, and, when she turned her head, lips. "I love you," he said, then dashed to the door.

He spent the next four hours pacing the corridor. Gaius arrived shortly after Evelyn, hovering nearby in case his assistance was needed.

A short time later, a tired, rumpled Merlin joined them, accompanied by Sir Percival.

Arthur nodded at the knight, a slight smile of understanding on his face.

"I was on night patrol when Merlin collided with me," Percival explained, leaning against the wall, watching his king anxiously walk back and forth. "Thought you might like some support."

The king paused in front of the large knight, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," Arthur quietly said. A groan sounded from the other side of the doors, and his head snapped in that direction.

He dropped his hand and resumed pacing. Each time there was a sound from inside the royal chambers, he would stop, his eyes fixed on the entrance.

After the first hour, it became apparent to the three other men that their king needed only their presence, not their words, so they stopped trying to reassure him. But, they stayed.

In the small hours of the morning, the cry of a baby reached their ears. Arthur stopped pacing for about 30 seconds, his eyes glued to the doors. When no one came to fetch him, he resumed, waiting with as much patience as he could muster.

It was another 30 minutes before the latch moved and the doors creaked open.

The king enters the royal chambers, nodding at Evelyn as he passes. The midwife steps into the corridor to speak with Gaius and give the royal couple some privacy.

"Guinevere," Arthur says as soon as he sees her. She is sitting up in bed, looking tired and a bit bedraggled, but there is a peaceful smile on her face as she gazes down at the blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. She looks more beautiful than he's ever seen her.

"Arthur, my love… we have a son. A beautiful, healthy son," Guinevere says, her voice soft.

He stops a few feet from the bed, unable to move, overwhelmed. "A son?" he asks, his voice breaking. She nods. "And... you're all right?"

"Yes, Arthur, I'm as fine as I can be, given what I've just done," she answers, smiling. "We are both well and healthy. Come see."

He steps closer, his eyes glued to the blanket in his wife's arms. He sees a curl of light brown hair. A tiny nose. A tawny cheek. Then, a little fist breaks free, and the entire bundle squirms and squeaks.

"Oh," he sighs, his eyes misting.

"Come," Guinevere prompts, patting the bed beside her. "You won't hurt either of us, I promise."

Arthur gently sits on the bed, moving carefully until he is beside Guinevere. "He's beautiful," he says, reaching down to touch his cheek. It feels like warm velvet. "I can't believe he's really here."

"I know," she agrees. "It's so strange." Their son fusses a moment, then yawns.

"Why so sleepy? You've only just arrived," Arthur says, talking to his child. He reaches over and captures the little fist, holding it gently. The baby grasps his father's thumb and tries to pull it to his mouth. Guinevere chuckles softly, and Arthur kisses her cheek. "Thank you, my love," he whispers. "Thank you for giving me a beautiful son."

"You're welcome, Arthur," she replies, not quite sure why he's thanking her. I did not do this all by myself.

There is a soft knock at the door and it opens before either of them can answer. "My lady?" Evelyn quietly calls.

"Yes, please come in, Evelyn," Guinevere answers. "I think the prince may be hungry."

The midwife appears, followed by the prince's nursemaid, Hunith, who also happens to be Merlin's mother.

The door closed behind the final prospective nursemaid. They had seen approximately 20 women, and, to Arthur, they were all starting to look and sound alike.

"I like her," Guinevere had immediately said.

"You do? We know almost nothing about her," Arthur countered.

"Yes, I know, but… I just have a good feeling about her. She seems lovely and sweet. Some of the others came across as simply wanting the position to be able to say they are the royal nursemaid. She appeared to be more concerned with actually taking care of our child."

There was a knock at the door, and Arthur turned. "Come in, Merlin," he called.

"How did you know it was me?" the servant asked. "You knock the same way every time," Arthur answered.

"Hmm," Merlin replied and went about serving their lunch while they continued to discuss the last woman they interviewed.

"She is not from Camelot. We know almost nothing about her," Arthur said.

"Yes, so you've said," Guinevere gently reminded him.

"Well, it's important," he pressed. "How do we know she isn't a spy for Odin?"

"Arthur, she's from Cenred's kingdom, not Odin's. And, Hunith has a good heart," Guinevere argued.

"She's not a spy, Sire," Merlin quietly interjected.

Arthur looked up at him. "And, how do you know this?" he asked, skeptical.

"She's my mother," the servant admitted.

"Well, why didn't she say so?"

"She wished to earn the position on her own merits, not based on the fact that she is my mother and Gaius' niece," Merlin answered, pouring wine into the king's goblet.

Guinevere looks expectantly towards her husband, waiting for his response.

Arthur sighed. "You truly wish for the woman who raised him to help raise our child?" he asked.

"Arthur!" Guinevere exclaimed, but Merlin was laughing. "Yes. Merlin, is your mother alone then?"

"Yes, my lady. My… my father died before I was born," he quietly informed.

"Oh, I am sorry," she answered, looking from the servant to her husband. It was clear Arthur already knew this, and suddenly the strange, but firm friendship between the king and his servant made a little more sense to the queen. She smiled at Merlin, then turned to Arthur, waiting expectantly.

"I did like her," the king admitted. "And, with Merlin as a son, she would have an unending supply of patience..."

"Standing right here," Merlin said, a half-smile still playing about his lips.

"So, we are agreed?" Guinevere asked.

"Yes. Merlin, please go tell your mother the good news, and find out when she will be able to permanently return," Arthur declared. Merlin grinned and dashed out the door.

"He does appear to be hungry," Evelyn assesses, watching the prince fuss and smack his lips. She turns her gaze to the queen. "You are certain you wish to nurse him yourself, my lady?" she cautiously asks. It has been a topic of discussion between the midwife and the queen for awhile, and she wants to make sure the queen is completely resolute.

"Yes. I am certain," Guinevere firmly answers. To her relief (and mild surprise), Arthur agreed with her when she broached the topic of nursing their baby herself. "I understand there may be times when I may not be able to, and we will hire a wet nurse for those times. But, I wish to nurse him myself as much as possible," she had said. Arthur nodded and said he always found the custom of healthy, able queens using wet nurses to be a bit unnecessary.

"Very well, my lady. Sire, if I may?" Evelyn asks, waiting to approach the bed in order to assist the queen.

"Of course," Arthur moves to a chair beside the bed.

The midwife would have preferred that the king move further away, but says nothing, focusing her attention on Guinevere and the prince.

"Did Merlin wake you?" Arthur asks Hunith, who is hovering near the foot of the bed, busying herself by sorting through cloths for diapers, pulling out the softest ones and setting them aside. She looks remarkably alert considering the time.

"Yes, Sire. I asked him to wake me if the prince decided to make his arrival during the night," Hunith answers. "To be perfectly honest, I have been sleeping with one eye open all week," she adds with a smile.

Arthur glances over to see his son nursing at his wife's breast. The child seems to be taking to it well as far as the king can judge. "We have all been waiting rather anxiously," he agrees.

"What have you decided to call the prince, Sire?" Evelyn asks, stepping back now that the baby is nursing contentedly.

Arthur looks at Guinevere, and she smiles. "Llacheu Arthur Leodegrance," the king says.

Evelyn nods. "That is a good, strong name for a prince, my lord," she replies, helping the queen switch her son to nurse on the other side.

"Thank you," Arthur says, turning his attention back to his wife and son. As he gazes upon the two of them, the most precious people in his world, he feels a sense of contentment he's never experienced before.

The queen, feeling her husband's eyes on her, looks over at him and smiles, the same feeling of peace reflected on her face. "Please come," she says, wanting him to resume his place beside her.

He moves back to the bed, grateful to be close to his wife and son again. He reaches out and caresses Llacheu's head, feeling his soft, wispy curls under his palm. "I wish he would open his eyes," he says.

"He will," she assures him. "They are blue, like yours." He smiles, and she adds, "Evelyn says they may not stay blue, but we shall see."

"I would not mind if they turned brown like your beautiful eyes," Arthur says, looking up at his wife. He carefully leans over and kisses her. "I love you, Guinevere," he softly says, his lips hovering near hers.

"I love you too, Arthur," she answers, kissing him in return.

xXx

Prince Llacheu's first two months seemed to fly by, yet, for Arthur and Guinevere, there were times where it seemed as if the clock was ticking much slower than normal.

Guinevere's insistence on nursing her son herself meant that the prince would sleep in the royal chambers until he could sleep through the night without needing to be fed. And, he was quite vocal about needing to be fed, so if Guinevere was up, so was Arthur.

The queen, sequestered in the royal chambers for the first month, would nap when the prince napped to make up for lost sleep. The king was occasionally seen ducking into vacant guest rooms for a quick snooze just out of convenience. One morning before training, Percival discovered his king asleep on a bench in the armory. "I am very glad it is you who found me like this," Arthur had groggily said, sitting up. The large knight merely responded with an understanding smile.

Arthur insisted on being very involved in his son's care. Guinevere was initially surprised at her husband's actions, but after a moment's thought, they made perfect sense. He knows how it feels to have a disinterested father. He was forced to be away from his son more than the queen, especially during the first month, but whenever he returned, he would scoop Llacheu into his arms as soon as he was able. If the baby was nursing, he would have to wait, but even then, he would put a cloth on his shoulder and lift his son into his arms, patting and rubbing his back until the child let out a satisfactory burp.

Arthur would bring Llacheu to Guinevere in the middle of the night to feed so she wouldn't always be the one to have to get out of bed. The king even insisted Hunith show him how to change the prince's diaper, "Just in case."

Once Guinevere's lying-in was complete and she was cleared by Gaius and Evelyn to move about the castle again, Arthur insisted that his wife's return to her duties be a gradual one and has made sure she took some time for herself. Hunith would regularly care for Llacheu to give the king and queen time alone together as well. If he was awake, she would often take him to see Merlin and Gaius, who both doted on the little prince.

"Guinevere, watch this," Arthur greets her one bright spring afternoon. She had just returned from a walk in the royal gardens, where things were just beginning to turn green and come to life. She loves following the progress of the plants as they grow, noting which flowers are budding and which plants are starting to show signs of bearing fruit.

As she watches, Arthur lifts Llacheu in front of his face and moves him closer until the baby latches onto his nose, suckling it.

"Arthur!" she exclaims, laughing. "Don't let him do that too long, or your nose will turn red."

"Oh!" He gently disengages his son from his nose. "You're right. I wouldn't want to go around looking like I have a... love bite on my nose. That won't do at all," he says, chuckling. "Will it, Little Man?" he asks Llacheu, who fusses in reply. "I think he's hungry."

"What gives you that notion?" she laughingly asks as she holds out her arms. "Let's get some food in that round belly, shall we?" She takes her son and kisses his cheek, then moves to the bench she has lately favored for nursing when she is not in bed. She opens her bodice and settles in with Llacheu, who eats hungrily.

Arthur moves over to the bench and joins them, lifting the queen's feet onto his lap. He removes her slippers and gently massages her feet. "We received word that Caerleon will be coming for Llacheu's blessing. They sent apologies for replying so late as well," Arthur says.

"Oh, good. I should like to see Mithian again," Guinevere says. "She will be coming, will she not?"

"I cannot imagine why she would not," he says. "She loves children. I've heard her say that she would like to have as many as her body will bear." After a pause, he adds, "Of course, she had consumed rather a lot of wine that night..."

Guinevere laughs. "Then, it is probably true. I have often found wine and ale makes people rather more truthful than they would normally be."

Arthur joins her laughter. His strong hands are soothing on her small feet, and she sighs happily.

"Any word from Olaf?" she asks.

"Oh, yes. He declined. I think he is still embarrassed."

"I hope he does not brood over the incident for too much longer. It is forgiven and forgotten," Guinevere says. "I simply hope Vivian finds happiness."

Arthur nods. "I am pleased Elyan is coming."

"Yes, and he is bringing Princess Elena. Have you met her?" she asks.

"No, I haven't," he answers, his hands slowly moving higher on her legs, rubbing her ankles. "But, if Elyan intends to make her his wife, I am sure she is lovely."

"She is very kind. Reminds me a bit of Mithian actually. No airs, no pretense." She smiles, and switches the prince to her other breast. "A trifle clumsy, but rides better than some of the knights of Cameliard," she adds, chuckling.

"Very interesting," he replies, his hand moving up to her calves.

"Arthur," she says, giving him a sideways look, "what are you doing?"

"Massaging your lovely legs," he answers, his thumb stroking the back of her knee.

She moves the prince to her shoulder and gently pats his back. His eyes are heavy and she's a little worried he's going to nod off before he burps. "It's starting to feel less like a massage and more like a caress," she says, trying not to smile.

He slyly moves her skirts up, then bends down and kisses her knee. "Perhaps," he allows. "I was merely thinking... Llacheu is nearly asleep... he'll nap for a while with a full belly..." he pauses, kissing her other knee. The prince burps and Arthur laughs, but he is undeterred. "We might take advantage of the time for ourselves."

"Well, yes, it is important for us to have time for ourselves," Guinevere allows, softly rubbing the baby's back. "Perhaps, if you call for Hunith..."

"Mmm," he agrees, kissing her leg once more, just above her knee, then sliding out from under her legs to go to the door.

A few minutes later, Hunith arrives, happy to take the sleeping prince to his nursery.

Arthur turns from the door to find Guinevere has already moved to the bed. "Now," he rumbles, stalking towards her with a sly smile on his face, "where were we?"

xXx

The prince's blessing and presentation went smoothly and with minimal fussing from Llacheu. They intentionally scheduled it right after his mid-morning feeding so he would be content. He slept through most of the ceremony, but woke up to see his subjects gathered in the courtyard from the same balcony his parents greeted the people, just over a year ago, on their wedding day.

There is to be a feast that evening in Llacheu's honor, a feast at which the prince will make a token appearance before being bundled away, up to bed, but the afternoon is free.

Guinevere returns to the royal chambers for a few moments of quiet. Hunith is with her, carrying the prince. She has thus far been an exemplary nursemaid. Llacheu likes her, and she is very good with him. And, Merlin seems very happy to have his mother living in the castle near him.

"Sefa, would you spread that blanket on the floor for the prince?" Guinevere asks.

"Yes, my lady," the maidservant answers. She is only too happy to help with the prince's care, especially when Hunith's hands are full.

Hunith sets Llacheu on his stomach on the blanket, then sits on a chair beside him. She gives him several toys to keep him occupied, but instead, he fusses.

"He doesn't like his tummy time," Guinevere says, smiling. "It is good for you, Dumpling," she tells her cranky son.

"Yes, listen to your mummy, my little lord," Hunith agrees, nudging a stuffed dog closer to him.

Arthur enters the room, Merlin on his heels. "Ah, it sounds like someone is enjoying himself," he says, chuckling. He stands over his squirming son. "It will help make you strong, my lad," he tells the boy. Then, he bends down and scoops up his son, kissing his chubby cheek. Seeing his wife's surprised expression, he kisses his son again, says, "Just for a minute," cuddles the boy, then sets him back down on the blanket. Llacheu squawks, but then grabs a toy.

The queen laughs, shaking her head. "Honestly, I wouldn't have thought you would be such a soft touch."

He moves closer to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Honestly, you should be the first person to realize that about me," he softly replies, keeping his voice low enough for only her to hear.

She giggles. He kisses, then releases her. "Merlin, would you go make sure the seats are all set up in the hall for the feast? I don't want a repeat of the spring festival," the king says.

"Yes, Sire," Merlin replies from his spot beside his mother, where he had taken a moment to chat with her. "One would think things could be done in this castle without my overseeing every detail," he mutters as he walks out.

Hunith smiles, proud of her son. Guinevere sees this and says, "He really is very important to all of us. You are right to be proud of him."

The nursemaid blushes and answers, "Thank you, my lady. He is my greatest joy."

The queen smiles, then turns away to wipe an unexpected tear from her eye at the woman's words, her gaze falling to rest on Llacheu. Arthur sees this and takes her hand, kissing her wrist. He clears his throat and decides to change the subject. "Guinevere," he begins, walking her to her favorite bench.

"Yes?"

"Lady Corliss is going to be at the feast tonight. Garrett will be staying home with his nursemaid."

"Oh, how lovely. Garrett must be nearly a year old now," she says.

"You should consider asking Corliss to be your lady-in-waiting. You've been here more than a year now and still haven't chosen one," he suggests.

"I know. I really should have at least one," she agrees. "It simply hasn't been in the forefront of my mind."

"Are you not lonely for female companionship?" he asks.

"Occasionally, but I am quite content with your companionship," she says, smiling. "I do like Corliss, and we have much to discuss whenever we see one another... and, it is quite likely Llacheu and Garrett will one day be as close as you and Sir Leon." Arthur smiles at this, and she adds. "She could even bring him with her to the castle. Once Llacheu is old enough, I am sure he will enjoy having Garrett as a playmate."

"So, you'll ask Lady Corliss?" Arthur asks.

"I will see if I can get a moment to speak with her at the feast tonight," Guinevere answers. "Thank you for the suggestion, Love. It is a very good idea." She leans over and kisses him.

From the rug, they hear Hunith clucking at the prince for throwing his toys off the blanket, and their kiss ends in laughter.

xXx

Later that afternoon, Arthur returns to the royal chambers. After lunch, the men had decided to head out to the training field for some recreation and friendly competition. Morgana had retired to her rooms with a headache and a draught from Gaius. Mithian and Elena decided to watch the knights, and Guinevere stayed in the royal chambers to feed Llacheu before his afternoon nap.

"Sir Lancelot is quite the knight," Arthur quietly says as he enters the room.

Guinevere looks up from her needlepoint. "Yes, Elyan says he has to work very hard to stay ahead of him," she says with a smile.

"Yes, I can understand that. He very nearly knocked me on my arse," he comments. "Of course, he may have been trying extra hard because of who I am…" he muses.

"The king?" Guinevere asks, not giving it much thought. She pokes the needle through the material and pulls the thread upwards, finishing the stitch she was halfway through when her husband entered.

"Your husband," Arthur answers, chuckling. "I am not certain he is quite over his infatuation with you yet."

"Hmm," she replies. "He will have to find his way there at some point." She looks up as Arthur approaches her. "It still does not trouble you? His… feelings?"

He shakes his head. "It will only trouble me if he decides to act on those feelings," he declares, bending to kiss her forehead. "What are you adding now?" he asks, knowing she has already stitched Llacheu's name on the tapestry. He leans over to see a nearly-completed medicine bottle stitched near their names. He smiles and kisses her.

"An unusual reminder of our love, but a reminder nevertheless," she says.

"Oh, it definitely must be included," he agrees. "How long has he been sleeping?" he asks, looking towards the crib.

"Not as long as he should have been," she sighs. "All this excitement."

He sits beside her. "I had expected to see you join Mithian and Elena on the fields," he says, mildly disappointed.

She sets her sewing aside and strokes his cheek. "I'm sorry, Dearest, I had intended to. Queen Annis paid me a visit."

"Oh?"

"We had a lovely talk," she explains. "Well, at first, she merely wished for a private glimpse of Llacheu – the woman is quite mad for grandchildren, you know – and it turned into a very nice conversation."

Arthur smiles. "I imagine she is, especially now that Allard is taking a wife." The party from Caerleon arrived the previous afternoon with a surprise: The prince has been betrothed to Princess Cyneburg of Mercia, King Creoda's daughter, and this is what caused their reply to arrive later than usual. Allard agreed to the union on the condition that the wedding will be held in six months' time, so that he and the princess could get to know one another before they are wed.

"Yes. She's very pleased, but is still unsure what to do about Mithian. She fears her daughter is getting too old," Guinevere says.

He makes a face. "That is preposterous," he exclaims. "Mithian has just turned 21!"

"Arthur, do you know how old Annis was when she was sent to be Caerleon's bride?" she asks.

"No."

"She was 23. Her parents were frantic. They knew Caerleon wasn't an ideal match for her, but they accepted the offer for fear their daughter would become a spinster," Guinevere says.

"Annis told you this?" Arthur asks.

"She did. She also told me that she and Caerleon had rather a rough start to their marriage. They didn't get on at first," she says.

His face turns thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I suppose I can see that," he allows.

"Because of this, it was very important to her to make sure we are still happy after a year. Now that we've had some time to get to know one another, she said." Guinevere reaches over and takes her husband's hands in hers. "I assured her we are. I told her about my illness before Llacheu was born."

Arthur smiles and lifts their joined hands to his lips. "Was she surprised?"

"Yes and no," she chuckles. "She said she could see the beginnings of love blossoming between us when we had only known each other for one week."

"Are we that obvious?" he asks, laughing a little as well.

"Only to those who know us well, apparently. Leon could see it with you. Elyan said much the same to me," she replies.

Arthur shyly smiles and looks down at their hands for a moment, stroking her soft skin with his thumb. "What else did you and Annis discuss?" he asks, looking up.

"Children. She is quite charmed by Llacheu. She held him for a while, and he was quite fascinated with her auburn hair," she says, chuckling. "She thinks he looks more like me than you," she adds.

"He does," Arthur says. "He has your eyes, both in shape and color. His hair and skin are a trifle lighter than yours, and I think he has my nose, but he is mostly you." He smiles. "Let us just hope that he will inherit my height."

"Oh!" Guinevere feigns offense and attempts to remove her hands from his. He simply pulls her closer and kisses her. "Don't let my brother hear you say that," she warns, knowing Elyan is not gifted with height either.

"Your brother would likely be the first to agree with me," Arthur counters. Turning serious again, he asks, "Did Annis say how she and Caerleon found a way to get along? They did eventually grow to love one another; Allard has said he's heard them declare their love to one another on more than one occasion. Did she give any insight as to how they worked through their differences?"

Guinevere thinks a moment, then realizes why he is asking. "You're thinking about Morgana," she says. He nods. "Do you think Annis would speak with her?"

"Actually, I was hoping you might speak with Morgana first," Arthur says. "She holds Annis in high regard, but... I think she might open up to you more, seeing as how you are closer to her age."

The queen thinks for a moment, carefully considering her husband's words. "Annis said she started listening to Caerleon when he spoke. Really listening. She took note when he conversed with others. His servants, his knights. She said that is how she got to know him, by watching him interact with others. And, when they conversed, she made sure to give him her undivided attention, hoping to convey that his words were important. Hoping he would notice and, eventually reciprocate by listening to her. Valuing her thoughts and words." She pauses a moment. "Caerleon is older by nearly seven years, and had already been ruling as king for some time when he married Annis."

Arthur nods, having known this much.

"She made a point to say that I am truly fortunate to have such a husband as you, Arthur. I thought it might please you to hear," Guinevere volunteers.

He smiles and leans over to kiss her cheek. "It does. However, I had only been king for about a year before taking you as my wife, so suddenly having someone with whom to share the burden of rule was not a very large adjustment. In fact, I welcomed it," he says, kissing her again. "And, you have exceeded my expectations in every possible way, my love."

Guinevere smiles and caresses his cheek. "Thank you. Your words mean so much and I am very grateful that I did not have to fight for my voice here in Camelot. I couldn't have asked for a better husband or king."

"Nor I for a wife or queen," Arthur agrees. His face grows thoughtful as he remembers the topic of Annis and Caerleon again. "But, what of Caerleon? Did he reciprocate Annis' efforts?"

She nods. "Yes. Gradually. She said he has a tendency towards arrogance, so a few well-placed but sincere compliments here and there didn't hurt either. But, when he started noticing her interest, how she truly wished to be part of his life both as wife and queen, he began to answer her questions more fully, and even began asking questions of her."

"I wonder if that would work for Morgana and Cenred. Cenred is… well, he's pretty pompous," Arthur chuckles.

"Possibly," Guinevere allows. "However, I think the most important point is they both wanted to make their marriage work. I am not sure about Morgana and Cenred. I am fairly sure Morgana wants to, but Cenred… I don't know." she says.

"She does," Arthur interjects. "She does not find Cenred unattractive. She says he is a good king. However, he simply does not seem interested in having a wife. Or, possibly he is not interested in having her as his wife."

"Oh, dear," Guinevere says with a frown. "I hope they are not doomed to be unhappy forever."

Arthur nods and squeezes her hands. "Will you talk to Morgana, please?"

"I suppose I could go and ask how her head is feeling, and... see where the conversation takes us," she agrees. "If you will stay here with Llacheu. Hunith is helping Merlin."

"Hmm, stay in here with my sleeping son, in the quiet? Ooo, difficult choice..." Arthur says, pretending to mull it over. He smiles and kisses his wife. "Thank you, my love."

"All I can do is try," Guinevere says. "Annis is very happy for both of us, by the way. She reminded me of how fortunate we are to have been so well matched."

"I can think of no one more fortunate than me," Arthur says. Guinevere knows he is not boasting; he is simply grateful for everything with which he has been blessed.

xXx

Guinevere softly knocks on Morgana's door, not wishing to disturb her if she is sleeping or her head still aches. She is just about to leave when she hears a voice.

"Yes?"

"It's Gwen," she answers.

The door opens immediately. Morgana is smiling. "Gwen, how lovely to see you. Please, come in," she says.

"How is your head?" Guinevere asks. Morgana indicates a chair, and the queen sits.

"Much better, thank you," Morgana answers, sitting in the other chair. "I had a lovely nap. I always sleep well here in my old bed." She wistfully smiles, clearly thinking of her former life in Camelot.

"Yes, I can understand how doing so would be a comfort," Guinevere replies.

"Did you go watch the boys at play?" Morgana asks, a lightly-teasing smile on her face.

"No, I didn't. Annis paid me a visit just as I finished nursing Llacheu, and we fell to talking," the queen answers, folding her hands on her knee.

"She wasn't lamenting about Mithian again, was she?"

Guinevere smiles. "Only a little. Mostly, she wanted to see the prince. And, ask me if Arthur and I are still as happy after a year as we were after a week." She holds her breath, having set out the bait.

"Are you?" Morgana asks, her face growing tense.

"Yes. Um, more so actually," she answers. Morgana looks down and away. "Morgana, I'm not telling you this to... flaunt my happy marriage to your cousin, I promise," she starts.

"I know you're not, Gwen," Morgana answers. "You are not that kind of person at all."

Guinevere reaches across for the other queen's hand. "Do you know Annis and Caerleon did not get along when they were first married?" she softly asks.

Morgana nods. "That is the general belief, yes."

"It is more than rumor. It is the truth. Annis told me so herself. And, her story sounded remarkably similar to yours. Now, I've been fortunate, and I haven't been married very long, but surely that should give you some hope?" Guinevere asks.

Morgana sighs. "Perhaps. However, Cenred is not Caerleon."

"Is he proud, arrogant, and accustomed to ruling alone?"

Morgana looks up. "Yes."

Guinevere raises her eyebrows. Morgana chuckles softly.

"Morgana, may I ask... do you want to be married to him?" Guinevere asks.

The Queen of Cenred sighs. "That's the strange thing, isn't it? I do. I don't dislike him. When he summons me to his bed, I go willingly. He has never forced me to do anything I do not wish to do."

"That's good."

"On the other hand, he has never asked me if there is something I would wish to do. He never seeks out my thoughts or opinions on anything. I... it's so complicated, and it shouldn't be. He is good to me... when he remembers I exist. And, now..." she hesitates, tears shimmering in her green eyes.

"What is it, Morgana?" Guinevere asks, releasing her cousin's hands so she can retrieve a handkerchief from her vanity.

"I am with child," Morgana whispers, dabbing her eyes. "I haven't told him yet. I... I'm afraid he's going to accuse me of adultery because we've been married three years and I haven't yet given him an heir."

"Oh, Morgana," Guinevere says, standing and going over to her. She hugs her, and says, "This is a blessing. You must look at this event as such."

"I do not wish to bring a child into an unhappy marriage," Morgana replies. "It is not fair to the child. I..."

"Morgana, don't you see? This is an opportunity. You now have a very important reason to go to him, to speak with him. We cannot know why you were unable to conceive until recently, but all we know is that it happened. It is simply a mystery, and if your husband doesn't see the baby for the gift that he or she is, then... he may need more time to think about it and become acquainted with the idea," Guinevere says. "Come back and sit," she urges.

Morgana nods and moves back to their seats. "I am nearly three months, Gwen. I need to tell him soon," she sighs. "I'm just so frightened."

Guinevere presses her lips together. "Do you know what Arthur told me about you?" Morgana's eyes widen slightly, and Guinevere raises her hand reassuringly. "He said you were exuberant. 'Like a bright light.' He fears Cenred has snuffed out your light." Morgana is touched by Arthur's heartfelt assessment of her and blinks back more tears as Guinevere continues. "Everything he has told me about you indicates you are an intelligent, brave woman who values fairness and justice." She bends her head and looks Morgana in the eyes. "Find that person again. She's still in there."

A tear drops onto Morgana's lap. "I'll try. I just... never know what to say to him."

Guinevere thinks a moment. "Well, you said you wished he would ask you for your thoughts. That he would ask you if there is anything you wish to do." Morgana nods, and the Queen of Camelot continues. "Have you tried asking him if there is anything he wishes for you to do?"

"Once, when we were first married," Morgana answers. "He shrugged."

Guinevere winces slightly. "Ask again. Perhaps... try phrasing it differently. 'With what can I aid you, my lord?' instead of 'Is there anything I can do?' might help. You are clever. Arthur has told me you were the only person to whom Uther would actually listen. Surely that person isn't gone."

"Arthur's view of Uther is a little twisted," Morgana laughs. "Uther would move a mountain for Arthur if he wished it. Arthur simply never saw it. It's quite sad." She frowns, then sighs. "I do not wish for my child to grow up thinking his father does not love or want him. It nearly broke Arthur before he was able to understand that it wasn't his fault."

"I know," Guinevere slowly nods. "He has told me."

"Of course, he has." Morgana sadly smiles. "I am envious of you, Gwen. I want the kind of relationship with Cenred that you have with Arthur."

Guinevere takes Morgana's hands again. "Then, fight for it. If not for you, then for your child. Tell him. Tonight, if you must. He may be quite pleased by the news. It may be the bridge the two of you need to find your way to one another." She pauses a moment, then adds, "However, if he accuses you of lying with another man to become with child and turns you away... well, you always have a home here. I know Arthur will gladly take you in."

Morgana sniffles and nods. "Thank you, Gwen."

"You're welcome, Morgana. And, perhaps you should try to find a few moments to talk to Annis. I know she would be happy to share any advice she has. You know she thinks of you and Arthur as her own."

"I know," Morgana agrees. "I will try." The sound of a slamming door makes her head snap in the direction of her husband's adjoining quarters. "Should I talk to him now?" she asks, her voice a hushed whisper. "Here? Before the feast?"

"That is up to you," Guinevere answers. "You may, if you wish to begin while it's fresh in your mind and before you lose your nerve," she says, smiling. "But, if you need time to prepare, to think about what you would like to say, or feel another time to be more suitable for this conversation, you may choose to wait."

Morgana chews her lower lip, thinking it over. "It may be easier to keep his attention undivided since we are away from home," she muses.

"Arthur and I will understand if you are late to the feast. Or, even completely absent. I will send two meals up if necessary," Guinevere suggests, getting the distinct feeling her fellow queen is leaning towards talking to her husband immediately.

Morgana hugs Guinevere. "You are too smart to be married to Arthur," she jokes in her ear.

Guinevere allows a short laugh, slowly shakes her head, and gently responds, "I know you meant that in jest, Morgana. But, you and I both know it is not true."

Her cousin stills, then smiles and nods her head. "Indeed," she sighs. "Thank you, Gwen. For everything."

xXx

At the feast, several things become clear.

Prince Llacheu has inherited his father's disposition for responding to crowds. Even at two months old, he soaks up the attention, charming everyone for the short time he is in attendance.

Elyan and Elena are very well matched. Raucous laughter rises from their table at regular intervals, and the couple is seen continually gazing adoringly at one another.

Lady Corliss is thrilled to be asked to be the queen's lady-in-waiting, and admits to having been secretly hoping Guinevere would choose her.

Annis no longer needs to worry about finding a husband for Mithian. The princess and Sir Gwaine have been nearly inseparable since that afternoon's training exercise, and the Queen of Caerleon has learned that the handsome knight isn't truly as roguish as his reputation suggests. "He's a flirt, but a harmless one," Mithian had promised. "We've been corresponding since the coronation," she quietly added, much to her parents' surprise.

Morgana and Cenred are late to the feast, but arrive holding hands. Only Guinevere and Arthur can see the last vestiges of redness around her eyes, and when Morgana smiles at them, Guinevere exhales, relieved. Arthur, having been filled in on the details when his wife returned to their quarters, squeezes her hand reassuringly. Later, Morgana finds a moment to quietly tell the queen, "He was overjoyed about the baby. He also didn't realize he was neglecting me as much as he has. All is not yet sorted, but we're on the right path."

"It cannot all be repaired with one conversation," Guinevere replies. "You will need to be patient with one another."

"I will write and tell you how we are faring," Morgana says. "Oh, and Gwen?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for not asking me if the baby is his."

Guinevere smiles understandingly. "I know you were unhappy, but I also know you would not dishonor your wedding vows."

"Cenred just told me the news," Arthur says. "He did not have the slightest idea that I already knew."

Morgana smiles. "Thank you, Arthur."

"You're going to have to name the baby after me now, you realize," he teases.

"Hmm, I don't know... 'Prince Toadface of Cenred' doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?" Morgana returns, laughing.

Guinevere claps her hand over her mouth, but Arthur laughs openly, his spirits too high to be offended.